When are we gonna be at the beach Dad..huh Dad. If I had not been a passenger on a bright clean Tico bus seated beside a beautiful and engaging Tica I too may have wondered when we would be at the beach.
My companion did not join me until the bus reached the city of Alajuela north west of San Jose and close to the Juan Santamaria International Aeroport. This very serene location is about 300 meters lower than San Jose and so became an indicator of what humidity changes I could expect as we descended from 3800 meters (11,000 ft.) to sea level in about 80 kilometers (50 miles).
Alajuela has many gentle parks, without the crisp maintenance evident in North American green space. The park benches encircling the trees and gardens are regularly occupied with Alajuelians in relief of the humid Costa Rican summer or the odd Canadian or American escaping a northern winter.

My brief break invited me to lunch of "Burger and Fries" (availablity due in part to the imported winter clientel) before setting off again to Montezuma Beach on the Nicoya Peninsula, home to many 'bask and barf' resorts on the north Coast.
The humidity was getting to me.

The bus had loaded its cargo of boxes and luggage and all the passengers were literally squeezed into place we gently descended into the pacific valley on the way stopping briefly for passengers from the towns of Grecia, Sarchi and Naranjo. At each station there were hawkers of juice bags and home made potato chips, creating more opportunity to spend my colones. My mind was some distance from my stomach as I had found a ready listener to my adventures in a pretty business student returning home for the weekend from her studies in Alajuela.

The next several hours were spent in conversation of Costa Rica and Canada, and what lie in store for each. As with many younger people, this young ladies vision of reality was distorted by the apparent wealth of tourists and their ability to spend endless American Dollars on property or entertainment.
There seems to exist, either because of media fabrication or just eternal faith, that there is a nirvana but somewhere else other than here.
Television has been the "great persuader" in the developing world where aspirations seem to be more the product of marketing initiatives than real needs. Cultures have been growing within their communication limitations for centuries and until the advent of satellite signals, were paced to the evolution of social interdependence.
"I will be going to New Orleans with my sister next week, we have never been there." my seat partner said in her deliberate execution of English.
She was very excited at the prospect of her trip and I asked what other countries she had been to.
"This will be our first trip, we are very anxious to go shopping at a mall".
My reaction was to ask other questions which may have dampened her spirit of adventure but I curbed my paternal advice knowing that experience provided the most coveted diplomas. The humidity had begun to show itself as we reached sea level. Rosa departed the bus and walking down a lush tropical side street she turned to flash another bright smile.
Puntarenas has its own charm, and is a favorite for Costa Ricans on holidays or weekends such as this. An attempt to get a room at the prime town Inn failed by a matter of moments and my overnight digs were backstreet and very hostelish. Sleep for an early departure the next morning was frequently interrupted by the romantic musings of my room neighbours from which I was separated by a single wall of paperboard. My mind was flipping back to earlier in my day to a face that would not stop smiling.

Starting my uneventful 2 hour trip at 6 am eventually landed me in Paquera along with supplies for the many small resorts and communities on the south coast of the Nicoya peninsula as well as a handful of adventure seekers who appeared as sleepy as me. Visitors from North America, Germany, Sweden and South Africa have created, in spite of distance and lack of services, a development boom on this remote peninsula bringing prosperity and all the ensuing pitfalls. With the bus not quite filled the driver began navigating the pitted dusty roads dropping the passengers and produce where required, climbing into recently reclaimed forest. The demand for more beef has created more economic opportunity for the marginal fincas (farms) with forced expansion of grazing land resulting in increased erosion of fragile forest soil and reduced habitat for native bird and animal species.

Many languages can be heard as the bus lunges around bends and shutters down steep valleys on it's way down to Montezuma Beach, a favorite haunt of the universal backpacker. Reaching Montezuma each of the remaining passengers exits the bus strutting in confidence toward clapboard hotels and tropical eateries to the gazes and assessment of last weeks guests. The muggy air brings me to dead stop at a beach bar where I find the beer only momentarily staves off my thirst, better dealt with some time later at my hotel with bottled water and total immobility until 4 pm.

By late afternoon I had regained enough muscle coordination to search out a restaurant close to the Hotel Lucy that served up a decent platter of pan fried red snapper and vegetables. This was a familiar combination in the several straw roofed bar/cantinas that circled the bay of Montezuma and were frequently full with people spinning interesting tales like my table mates, an adventurous couple in their 50's and their teenage daughter. They had just arrived from Manuel Antonio, a popular protected National Park south of Puntarenas and had gone immediately to the only hotel in town with air conditioning after a week of camping in punishing humidity and only to learn after settling in that the cooling devices were themselves being re-air-conditioned. My second evening meal was at the vegetarian and alcohol free El Sano Banano restaurant in the centre of town and directly opposite to the infamous and rowdy Chicos Bar. A visit to both would be in order to catch all of the flavor of this still gently primitive southern coast.

Going east along the beach for 30 minutes will take you to fresh mountain streams with waterfalls and bathing pools. Large twisted roots provide guidance for your creekbank stroll while high above in the forest canopy and usually well out of site you can hear howler monkeys screeching, always wary of a well aimed pee.
They are best seen 12kms further south at the Cabo Blanco Wildlife Reserve.

I stood aside as the hikers crept past me over the slippery rocks holding tight to huge roots. "Come on in Big Hat ! "
shouted the Dutch girls from the center of the pool. (In reference to my oversized caballero (cowboy) hat).

" Get in the water, it will cool you down ".
I believe that for every degree in body temperature I would have lost in that cool water would have been more than offset by my proximity to young naked women.

Billy and Ferril had taken 10 days away from the Florida correctional institution where they worked as guards to experience, for the third time, the beach life at Montezuma. Ferril used his time for reflection to plan his upcoming marriage and Billy found Chicos' bar had all the ladies and entertainment to put Tallahasee a million miles behind him.
Travel has the capacity to transform an individual from a state of frustration and sometimes, despair, to an elevated level of power and confidence. Running far away from your troubles seems to be the answer. It is more probable that the physical separation from your aggravations improves your focus on the real problems that plague you and as time passes you improve your relationship with reality.
Another twosome on leave from planet earth were in Chico's perched high atop bar stools and appearing just a tad out of their element. The San Francisco Magazine they worked for had just done a piece on the new resorts of the Costa Rican pacific coast and they were here to find out first hand about the "Nuevo Playas". Unlike the development in the Caribbean and Mexico there are no big hotel players here and the development further up the peninsula is more low key than most blue water poolpuffs are expecting. I could not imagine these two urbanites casting their bikinis onto the rocks for a plunge in the local forest pool, not without the help of a few more rum fizzes.

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