When I first arrived in the Caribbean, I cried.
Mum seemed a little offended by this, and I was quick to explain that they were not sad tears – although exactly what kind of tears they were I couldn’t say.
I think part of it was stress and exhaustion from a long day’s travelling. Our bus from San José to Cariari was three hours long, and once there, a man with a strong Caribbean accent and no official uniform stuffed me and our luggage in a taxi with a French couple and whisked Mum off on foot to the bus station on the other side of town, from where our next coach left. Turns out he was legit, but at the time I was less than at-ease. From this other bus station, it was another 90 minutes of bumpy, non-air-conditioned journeying to La Pavona where we waited an hour for a boat to come along and take us on the two-hour ride to final destination Tortuguero. Continue reading
Roamward Bound 