Thursday, April 23, 2009

Sunday 4-19-2009 - Back to San Jose

Casa Brian in Playa Samara, Costa Rica

The Interbus shuttle to San Jose is supposed to pick me up at 9:30AM today. I wake up around 7:30AM, shower, and pack. I am about to step out of my room at 8:30AM to eat breakfast when I hear a knock on my door. I open the door and see Brian. Before he can say anything, I laugh and tell him “you must have thought I was going to sleep through everything this morning.” He smiles, says no, and then tells me that the private shuttles sometimes show up early and that he just wanted to make sure I was ready in case they showed up early this morning. I follow Brian into the living area and sit down at the dining table across from Catherine. She and I talk some about the last couple weeks and how I’ll be missed. I tell her that I’ll miss Playa Samara, but especially the homey, relaxing atmosphere at Casa Brian. The time passes quickly, and soon I am done with breakfast, packed, and ready to be picked up. The Interbus shuttle shows up five minutes late, honking to announce its presence. I hug Catherine and then Victoria, telling them both how happy I am to have met them. Brian comes out of his room then. I extend my hand saying, “it was a pleasure, Mr. Pearson.” He gives me a firm handshake and then firm hug, inviting me to come back and stay at Casa Brian again in the future. I’d come back even if he didn’t invite, I loved this place so much. I hug Sandra and tell her that I’ll miss her, Brian, and being here. The Interbus driver takes my luggage. Brian and Sandra drive off somwhere. I hop in the shuttle and wave goodbye to the hostel.
Five very bumpy hours later (Interbus shuttles rides are bumpier than GrayLine shuttle rides), I'm back at the Guesthouse at Costa Rica Backpackers in San Jose. I Skype Nicolas to tell him I have arrived, and he comes to the hostel and hour later. We walk into the city center because he has to run some errands. While we walk, he tells me about his robbery at gunpoint. His assailant only took some cash because Nicolas did not have his cards or passport with him at the time. Nicolas tells me he is completely ready to head back to Quebec and asks if I am interested in joining him. I tell him that I am not; I loved traveling through Costa Rica but I am now ready to be home for a while. He grudgingly accepts my refusal. We go eat dinner and have a few drinks at a restaurant inside a hotel on the Avenida Central. The food is good, but expensive. Nicolas tries to convince me to hit the town with him after dinner. Nicolas has been spending a lot of time alone in his room at the hostel. I can see that he is itching to make it a late night in San Jose and that he wants a sidekick. I'm tired from my ride from Playa Samara, and not in the mood to visit a casino or pound drinks somewhere. Besides, two and a half weeks in Playa Samara left me in a perfectly serene mood. Barhopping just does not appeal to me. We part ways around 7:30PM, agreeing to meet for lunch at the Mercado Central the next day.

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