Costa Rica, 5/3-5/4

Where in the world is the librarian? You may very well ask… Has she been in the brig? Has she been drinking too much grog? Has Johnny Depp taken her captive? The answer is not quite so interesting: I have been focused on deriving the most enjoyment possible out of my last Semester At Sea weeks, so much so that I have neglected my faithful readers. But I’m back in the saddle, so to speak. The photos are up and up-to-date (well, almost, we’re still labeling) and my formerly-dead laptop has been resurrected, making my online life a bit easier.

Costa Rica was but a brief respite on our journey toward home. Our last port! Finals are over, grading is done. No more school, no more books, no more teachers’ dirty looks. (Somebody please tell me how that little ditty really goes.) Puntarenas is a sleepy little town on the Pacific side of Costa Rica. As with most of our other ports, tourism is a large component of the area’s plan for economic growth. We took an afternoon bus tour into the mountains at the center of the country to Sarchi where the locals are known for their beautiful craftwork. Our tour guide, Vicky, was knowledgeable and gregarious, and we enjoyed wandering around the craft markets for a few hours. We marveled at a church made entirely of riveted steel (a precaution against earthquakes which toppled the previous newly-constructed church early in the twentieth century). Many of the church doors and windows stood open, and birds swooped in and out. Several parrots pondered us from lofty heights. The mountain temperatures were noticeably cooler than at sea level, and we arrived back at the ship laden with souvenirs, tired but refreshed and happy. Dinner that night was at an outdoor restaurant on the main drag that blared Latin American MTV versions of American songs from the 1980’s. I was in heaven! I never actually got out of my chair, but much chair-dancing occurred, to the entertainment of my dining companions. The local beer, Imperial, was consumed but pronounced inferior to Tiger, a favorite beer from numerous Asian ports. The seafood was deemed fresh and tasty (although I must here confess that I gave in to my craving for a hamburger).

The next day was a lazy one for the intrepid travelers. We wandered down the main drag (pretty much the only drag) to The Point, where we found what looked like a decrepit, abandoned YMCA on the edge of the peninsula. My capitalist brain started thinking of possible lucrative applications for this prime piece of real estate that came with a swimming pool. It was hot, and near here is where this photo was taken, which I like to title: “Which one looks closer to dead?” As we walked from The Point we saw many local families spreading out lunch on the beach, parking their cars close enough to blast the live football (AKA soccer) game from the radio. I was so hoping to hear G-O-O-O-O-O-O-A-A-L! (the international language!) but the match was apparently more about strategy than scoring. We ate at an outdoor restaurant that was showing the match on TV but again, no one scored. We chose the place because it had the word ‘espresso’ in the window, and that seemed a good omen for snobby coffee drinkers. In fact, I had a mocha iced coffee that was more dessert than drink, and it was delicious. See my rapture. The food wasn’t bad, either, whatever we had. I decided that the place was either an American tourist trap or a gay bar after noticing a prominent photo of those hotties from Bonanza.

After returning to the ship we ventured out again for dinner at Kiosko el BumBum, an establishment right on the beach. We were served by the owner, who seemed to take a special pride in providing service to us. It was flattering, and it was delicious! We then headed back for the ship, well-aware that the sooner we got back, the more likely we were to avoid long lines. Staff were worried about our last port, post-finals, being a problem but they were ultra-prepared and the ship was cleared for departure 10 minutes after ‘on-ship time’ of 8pm. That means all were on board, all had their passports, and we had a relatively uneventful departure from Costa Rica. We all drew a collective sigh of relief, and it was on to Miami!