It was cool and quiet when leaving my lodgings, but it didn’t stay that way for long. Once back in the throng of this busy little town, the heat, humidity and bustle soon caught up. I had to recharge the data on my travel SIM card, so made my way to the Claro office I had passed the previous night en-route to my hotel. I also got directions to the bus terminal from the helpful señora behind the counter.
The bus station was only a few blocks away and I found it easily. What wasn’t as easy, however, was finding information about routes further south. I could get to Samara which was one of the places I wanted to check out, but there didn’t appear to be any way of getting further south from there. There was also no information of any other destinations south of Nicoya. I decided to chance it and take the bus to Samara and ask when I got there about possible on-going routes.
The journey down to Samara was spectacular, with the road winding through jungle clad hills and over small rivers and streams gently discharging their contents downstream. A fresh breeze cooled the bus when moving, however, it quickly heated back up again when stopping to pick up or drop off passengers en-route. All too soon, we arrived at Samara where I immediately started making enquiries as to how to get further south.
Despite my best efforts, there was no other way out of Samara except returning to Nicoya and trying again. I did manage to confirm there was a route down from Nicoya, albeit complicated, so decided to use the hour and a half I had before the bus left again to check out this sweet little coastal village. Samara was completing geared up for tourists, including a little tourist market, but it had a nice, chill vibe. I found a beachside bar and enjoyed an ice-cold cerveza whilst taking in the scenery.
Back in Nicoya I had the usual problem of struggling to find information about buses. This country is frustratingly difficult to traverse on public transport as the locals don’t rely on it as much as in other Central American countries, so don’t know about services. A myriad of bus companies ply different routes which adds another layer of complexity to the situation. After asking around a bit, a señor behind a counter at the bus station waved me over and asked where I was going. I explained I wanted to go to either Montezuma or Santa Teresa and he was finally able to give me the information I needed. It turned out I needed to catch a bus to Playa Naranjo, then a ferry to Puentarenas, another ferry to Paquera, then a bus to Montezuma. This was the route a señora had explained to me in Samara so I embraced it with some confidence. The only problem was that the next bus was at 5pm and it was only 2.30pm.
I wandered around trying to find a restaurant where I could while away the time over something to eat and a cerveza or two, but to no avail. This region is one of only five ‘Blue Zones’ in the world. Whilst its inhabitants may enjoy longer, healthier lifespans than most, it would seem they do it without beer. In the end, after killing another half hour in my holy grail of a quest, I had to settle for a fruit smoothie instead.
I wandered back to the bus terminal at the allotted time and didn’t have to wait long for my bus. I was hoping to be able to see out of the bus for at least half of my two hour ride, but unfortunately, this bus had tinted windows obscuring much of the vista in the gathering dusk. Eventually, I was able to move up behind the driver, so at least could get a better view from the front. It was lovely watching the locals interact with one another and it seemed many were regulars who knew the driver. One thing I am noticing is the Costa Rican catchphrase of ‘Pura Vida’ is not used by the locals unless in the tourism industry. By now, I have travelled nearly all over the country and never heard a local use it once.
It was well and truly dark when the bus arrived at the ferry terminal and parked up. I then had to wait another hour for the ferry’s departure, however, was able to board shortly after it arrived from Puentarenas. I found a seat on the top deck to gaze out at the distant lights and take advantage of fresh ocean breezes. An hour later we were in Puentarenas and I made my way to my accommodation for the night. It was late and I was well and truly ready for bed.
Wild Woman Wandering 