I’m feeling a bit square tonight. It’s 10.30pm and, in the ‘Gran-Kahuna’ hostel where I’ve ended up in Bocas Del Toro (I’m now in Panama by the way), everyone seems to be heading out to party. I don’t really feel like it this evening, though, so I’m sat in my bunk hoping, with the help of my earplugs, that I’ll be able to get some sleep when they all come crashing back into the dorm in several hours time.
I’ve found that my levels of sociability really wax and wane when I’m hostelling. Sometimes I’m so up for mingling, chatting and going out on the town with the other travellers I meet. At other times, however, I just don’t gel with them and get serious ‘hostel/backpackers fatigue’. When I’m feeling like this the last thing I want to do is compare itineraries with another flip-flopped over-earnest German, or love-bead sporting, dreadlocked Canadian. Nor do I want to tell them where I come from and what I do, knowing that, out of courtesy, I’ll then have to ask them the same. Sorry, I know that sounds really grumpy, but it really does take a considerable amount of energy and enthusiasm to go through all of that stuff time and time again whenever you land somewhere new. Of course, it can reap rich rewards if you find yourself in the company of really engaging people, who you can cut through all of that routine with. Sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn’t, though, and that’s just travelling life… Plus, some hostels foster a far more pleasant sociable vibe than others. I find that I prefer the smaller ones, with communal meals and cosy little bars, and actually some rules to stop people making a din after a certain time (oh dear, I'm sounding like such an old grandma!). This particular hostel I’m currently staying in doesn’t seem to fall into that category sadly. It just seems to be full of quite cliquey surfer/partying types determined to look cool behind their shades and go out and get wasted.
Nevermind though… I had the good fortune to spend the last two nights in Cahuita, Costa Rica, Couchsurfing with the kinds of people I would never have met in a hostel (or under any other circumstances I imagine, other than through the travellers’ website). They were Judy and Bob – a couple from British Columbia in Canada, who were slightly older than my parents, and recently retired (well, Judy still does some work, but it's not perhaps what you'd imagine - I’ll go on to describe it...).
I requested to stay with them as my plans to meet up with Jordan again in Puerto Viejo didn’t work out. This was due to her heading off on a last minute holiday to Trinidad with her Costa Rican man (who she’s had some dramas with lately – but I won’t go into them). It was a shame, but in spite of this, I decided I still wanted to go up to the Caribbean coast anyway, remembering what she had told me about how lovely it was. When I saw that Judy and Bob (who spend half their year on a boat in British Columbia and half in Costa Rica) were up for hosting travellers in Cahuita – a little town 15 minutes further down the coast - I sent them a request and, luckily for me, they said I could come to stay.
It was a great stop-off, and I was made most welcome in their lovely ‘Casa Amarilla’ (Yellow House). No sooner than I had arrived on Tuesday, than Judy was giving me a tour around her beautiful garden, and Bob had cut down a coconut from a nearby tree to serve me fresh coconut milk while I lay back in their hammock! It really felt like going to stay with family or something – I was so looked after, with Judy in particular being a sort of Mum/Grandma substitute (and that’s a compliment if she’s reading)!
They were a very interesting pair. Bob was ex-army (he, Judy and their kids had spent a lot of time stationed in Germany in the past so I could relate to them about being from a forces family) and Judy was a writer of romantic novels, with numerous titles to her name and ongoing part-time work editing new writers. She’s told me how I can get my hands on some of her work, and therefore I will definitely be giving it a read at some point in the future (I’m not sure romantic fiction is the way I want to go with my writing, nor my natural choice of reading material – but it was certainly very enlightening talking to Judy about what she does and how she first got published).
Judy and Bob’s house was not far from Cahuita’s beautiful National Park. Therefore yesterday morning I took the bus there and spent an enjoyable, if rather sweaty, morning walking along the tangled coastline, looking out for monkeys, racoons, and snakes (and I saw some – although my photos aren’t great!). Then, when I returned to the ‘Casa Amarilla’, I knocked up an apple crumble for Judy and Bob to thank them for their hospitality and to (I hope!) give them a taste of British cuisine.
One of the nicest things about staying with them was just sitting down to some decent homely meals, which we enjoyed with a couple of glasses of wine and some good conversation. One of Judy and Bobs’ culinary specialities was ‘can-up-it’s-a*se chicken’ – something so novel and clever that I had to take a photo of it (as you can see, if you, er, stick a beer can up the chicken’s bottom it conducts the heat and helps it to cook)! Judy also produced a delicious beef and vegetable stew yesterday evening. That may sound like a strange thing to eat in the steamy Caribbean jungle. However, last night (and most of today) it has been very grey and raining torrentially, so it kind of seemed fitting (there – I’m sure some of you will be glad to read that I’ve had some rubbish weather too!).
So, this morning I headed off to the strangely named border town of Sixaola in Costa Rica and made my way over the rickety-rackety bridge that leads into Panama. Now I’m back in a country that uses dollars (a relief because I had trouble with Costa Rican colones – with about 860 to the pound I was always feeling like a millionaire, but simultaneously always alarmed at how much things initially seemed to cost). I’m also back in a place where English seems to be widely spoken – or at least that patoisy Creole/Caribbean English that I heard so much of in Belize. Bocas Del Toro, at least from what I’ve seen of it so far, reminds me a lot of Caye Caulker.
I’m not quite sure what I’m going to do with myself here – maybe hire a bike and cycle round a bit, or do a boat tour if the weather clears up. Come Saturday I’ll be heading on to Panama City on an overnight coach, and I feel slightly regretful that I won’t have more time there (my flight to Bogota is on Monday). I hope I’ll get the chance to see something of the canal and get a feel for the history of the place, though. Then, once I’m in Colombia, I’ll be back on track with my schedule and hopefully won’t have to rush through places so much.
The other good news to report is that the Latino spirit has evidently gripped my Mum and Dad and they now want to come out to Brazil and Argentina in the spring. I’ll hopefully be able to meet up with them at Iguacu Falls and then in Buenos Aires. That’ll be nice – we can eat some juicy steaks together, drink red wine, and maybe Mum can bring me some supplies out (I’m beginning to realise what British things I miss out here – certain brands of toiletries you can only get in ‘Boots’, sad-but-true ‘Horlicks’, decent books that just can’t be found in hostel book exchanges or Latin-American bookstores). Good for them… I know my Mum has been working really hard (as always) in the run up to her retirement this summer, so she definitely deserves a good break, and I’m really looking forward to seeing them again.
|  | 
|
