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View Diary: Life is hard, even in Cahuita (151 comments)

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  •  You're taking me back here, OPOL.... (9+ / 0-)

    This was our favorite part of CR when we visited there probably 1994: the area on the Carribean south of Puerto Limon south to the border.  

    You spoke of Cahuita in an earlier installment.  I remember the sort of mellow surrealistic vibe of just walking into this packed dub reggae parlor one night on the main street in Cahuita.  It had no doors and just a lot of rooms with cement floors; it wasn't even clear to me it had ownership as such, bartenders seemed to be serving out of private stocks they were maintaining.

    We stayed at a place called the Jaguar Inn--it didn't look very different than the prior shot of the open-air place you were staying (same facility, different era? :).  No suicide shower, just cold water showers, but it was so hot I didn't miss it.  They had the most awesome sous chef who ran the place who just dropped out of the European culinary life for, yep, la pura vida.  I'm sure it's gone, but if not, let me know and I'll paypal you some sheckels for a dinner for you and your son--seriously, their curry sauce over curry with rice and nuts was to die for.

    CR is funny how the real danger spots shift quickly and hit hard.  We were so stoked about Cahuita that we recommended it to a friend of ours who was doing sort of a solo trip via bus and whatever.  When he got to Cahuita (this was probably....2001?) locals told him he'd better get out because a bunch of gringos had been murdered recently in separate incidents and it was considered highly unsafe.  Apparently the place to go then was, I believe it's called, Miguel Antonio state park on the Pacific coast, just south of Playa Jaco.  But when we were there seven years earlier, in a noted and grisly incident, several young US women had been assaulted and murdered in said state park, and they were recommending it only for locals!

    I still have a t-shirt from the place we hung at for an afternoon in PV--can't remember the name and too lay to look for it, classic design with a rasta-toucan-smoking-a-joint cartoon, sure it's gone.  They had a really nice slack bar and would sell you weed from behind the counter if you knew how to ask for it (we just observed this, didn't dive in).

    Puerto Limon was an interesting, um, feel.  Seedy and a bit scary maybe, even, a total provincial banana trading town with with a sort of 30's/40's noire groove to it--I felt like I could be in the early chapters of some forgotten Graham Greene novel.

    I think you'll have to get up high to see them (Monteverde is noted for a nesting ground, but you've never seen anything but anything like the bone-breaker road up there, much worse than anything you've documented so far), but the bird you've not seen yet in the quetzal.  Totally majestic and mind-blowing.

    Love this series you're on here, OPOL (just discovered it, I'm not around DKos much these days)--keep it up!  Best of luck!

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