Getting There

My trip to CR was a bit of an adventure: I had two flights with an overnight layover in between. On my first flight, I was blessed with the company of Jerry (?), a rather inebriated Brazilian truck driver from Taunton. We chatted for most of the flight before he submitted to a hangover before landing. I also befriended a girl from Boston on her way to CR to spend her vacation volunteering with Sea Turtles, and a nice retired guy in the process of moving to CR. Thanks to some research (shoutout to sleepinginairports.com), I knew that the Orlando airport was not a bad place to crash; after all, I would have to be up and about less than five hours later. I found a nice padded bench in the food court (which was full of people with similar intentions) and zonked out for the night. On my second flight, I sat between some professional cyclists on their way home from a meet and a group of Orlandeans ready to party in Costa Rica. I took a taxi to the bus terminal I needed (I decided to spend a little extra to avoid an afternoon of bus terminal roulette with luggage), hopped on one two minutes to departure, and was on my way to Puerto Viejo! I was a little paranoid about not ending up in Puerto Viejo de Limon (where the tourists go) and instead making my way to Puerto Viejo de Sarapiqui, especially after the ticket clerk acted dubious and triple-checked that I knew where I wanted to go. However, I had boarded the right bus, and was met shortly after my arrival by Michelle, my new boss.

I recieved a driving tour of the surrounding towns as we made our way to the house. It's a very cute little two-bedroom cottage, with tile floors and a papaya tree outside. There is a mare with a young foal just beyond our backyard fence, and I am entirely enamored with them. I unpacked, spent most of the afternoon dozing and studying up the project, had a beer with a researcher friend of Michelle's, and went to bed early.