June 8: Jaco (San Jose)

(1) The original plan was to check out of our digs at Hostel Pangea, cab it to the airport, rent a car that we had reserved, and drive to our next destination. When we got to the airport, we found that our car, a RAV-4, already had three flat tires. "It is no big deal, sir. This is what happens when a car sits for a week." He tried to pump the tires full of air and send us on our way, but I cancelled the reservation. It was definately for the best - all the cars were stick, so, sadly, only Jerome could have driven. Unfortunately, thanks to some prostitute, he no longer had a dirver's license. When it was all said and done, we decided to cut our losses, call a cab, and pay out for a lift to Jaco, an hour and a half away on the Pacific coast.

(2) Almost right away, the stress from Jerome's stolen wallet and the fiasco with the rental car fluttered away in the wind as we cruised down the highway listening to Bob Marley. Our driver, Eli Valdez Yanez, spoke great English, and pulled over along the way so we could buy a few beers for the ride. We were definately on easy street, cruising past gorgeous hillside coffee plantations... all for the low, low price of $55. Well, it wasn't as low as simply taking one of Costa Rica's infamous buses, but it was definately faster. And, really, that's what we needed - a quick escape from our rocky start. (photo: www.xscd.com)

(3) We arrived in Jaco with baited anticipiation after spying the ocean earlier in the drive. We couldn't wait to walk around the small, friendly town, tasting the salt-air and surrendering to the ocean breeze. To be honest, Jaco is somewhat touristy - especially with the surfers. That being said, it's still a great little place to hang out. We checked into a two-bed room at the Copa Cabana Hotel for $50 a night. Jerome had also heard positive things about this place from his friends... I only hoped that my wallet wasn't next. (photo: www.mycostarica.net)

(4) The Copa turned out to be a great hotel with a terrific location. We were literally on the beach. Finally finding ourselves nice and relaxed after Jerome called his credit card company, we spent some time by the ocean, had a meal in town, and became friendly with a firefighter from Boston named Fred. Fred would become our third amigo for the bulk of our trip, and Jerome and I found him to be a constant source of amusement. He was in Costa Rica for the relaxation, but he was also in a constant, lustful search for one of his "workhorses."