I had organised with the hostel owner boat transport to Tortuguero, my next port of call. I was hoping to get on a 10am boat, but he told me the night before he could only manage to get me on a 1pm one. Hence, I had plenty of time in the morning to get to the boat dock in Moin. I looked up Google Maps to see how far it was and decided to walk the 6.5kms instead of taking a taxi. Having everything that packs into one 35L pack weighing only 10kg really makes decisions like these most manageable. I cringe when I think about my early backpacking ventures with huge 20kg packs. I certainly have whittled it all down to the essentials these days and appreciate it every time I’m on the move.
Even though it was the heat of the day, the route down to the boat dock was most picturesque. It started through Puerto Limón suburbia where I was staying which eventually transformed into fringe dwellings. More basic little casas clung to the side of the ridge I ended up walking, affording beautiful views down into steep valleys. The ridge morphed into a spur and I followed it down to the coastal plain where the main road to Moins ran.
Once I hit the main road which ran along the coast, it was very easy to see where all the money is in Puerto Limón. I ran straight into coastal high-end resort hotels, multi-rise luxury condos and gated communities. There was much in the way of development going on as well. Raucous callings of howler monkeys emanating from the tiny little National Park in its midst reminds one the vital habitats that will be destroyed when all this development is at an end.
Eventually, I reached my end point with time to spare. Cheekily, a taxi driver pulled up next to me to offer a ride to the dock a mere 100m away! I showed him off with a grin. After a short wait, the boat arrived full with passengers from Tortuguero. It would appear that the morning boat is the more popular as there were only a German couple, myself and a local hombre as passengers on the return voyage.
Reloaded, our little boat turned to make the journey back up to Tortuguero via the Tortuguero Canal system. This feat of fluvial engineering was completed in the early 1970s to join the numerous and varied waterways to make transport easier for the remote communities that relied upon it. As such, it is a labyrinth of channels spanning a large area. Signage one might expect on roadsides indicate directions and distances to settlements as I imagine it would be very easy to get lost in this aquatic maze.
Shortly into our trip we stopped to pick up a young hombre, his mother and his grandmother. It was really sweet watching him help his far from fit mother and frail grandmother onto the boat and settling them into their seats. The tiny settlement we collected them from had rustic shacks fringing the waterway; many with small fishing boats tied up in front.
Continuing on our journey, we sped along the river and passed many interconnecting waterways en route. Occasionally we came to an opening to the sea and had to circle around the intersection to continue our route. The banks were lined with dense jungle vegetation which dripped into the tannin-rich water, obscuring sight of the muddy riverbanks. Overhead at intervals ran the remains of old fruit-train bridges and one could almost imagine what it would have been like back in those days when it was only steam train, boats and animal-driven carts available to traverse the steamy, tropical jungle.
After a couple of hours, the sky clouded up and the temperature dropped. It was getting decidedly chilly on our little boat, but with spray jacket firmly tucked inside compression bag in pack I decided to just suck it up. But then it started to rain. Fortunately, the boat had plastic sides it could roll down which actually made everything much more comfortable inside. By the time we got to Tortuguero though, it was bucketing down. The boat pulled up alongside the dock and we piled out into the rain and straight into an adjacent dock-side restaurant to await our bags. I had paid the deposit for my trip to the hostel owner and handed over a 20 colones note for the remainder of the fare to the señora collecting. She said she would get change but it ended up being a shitfight with her claiming she didn’t owe me anything. I had taken a photograph of the text messages between the hostel owner and whoever he booked it with and stood my ground. It was only about AUD12 but I was determined. Eventually, she gave in and I got my change.
By this time, I was soaked so decided just to walk straight to the hostel in the pouring rain. With water cascading off me, I found reception and checked in. The dorm I was staying in was a nine bed one but very roomy with fairly good amenities. Peter, who I had met in Cahuita and travelled to Puerto Limón was staying there as well so was good to catch up and swap stories. I straight away organised my roomies for a New Years celebration, then had a much needed shower and put on some dry clothes.
We met up with some Uruguayan girls staying at the hostel in a private room and they joined us for drinks in the common area. It was a great evening swapping life and travel stories and generally having a laugh. Come 12.00am, we did the usual Happy New Year and continued the party over the road at the local nightclub. The music had been pumping all night and now it was notched up. With a killer light show and energetic DJ, it certainly got the punters moving. I left with the last of my party peeps at 2.15am after a pretty big day.
Wild Woman Wandering 