Its almost over
Trip Start Apr 10, 2005
12Trip End Jul 09, 2005
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i have now made my way over to my fourth country, in slivery shape of Panama, an unplanned venture to add to my threesome of other paises from the mysterious is-it-a-continent-or-what of central america. the second part of my time in costa rica was certainly no less mental. the second, and alas, last weekend id spend with the americans, we went to the caribbean town of puerto viejo, and you guessed right, partied it up on Guaro the whole time, had lornett the da tij negr go on a darioush-style cringe dancing rampage, followed by chasing huge crabs who then ganged up on him. having been left behind the band of yanks that had me in their lock of freedom and liberty for all, as they all went back, i promptly ate far too much marijuana ice cream, plus an equally 'green' cookie, and went on a thirty hour trip. during that i was convinced id seen my kindergarden teacher from moscow, and proceeded to attempt to chat to mrs yevgenniya konstantinovna in very very stoned russian. whoever it was just stared back, uncomprehending. clearly.
aaanyway, after waking up from the hibernation that followed i went to meet up with the two more familiar peeps looking like a tall albino and a small bearded hobbit, but turned out to just be freddie and theo. we chilled in the coolest hostel ever on a hill on the pacific coast, being about ten minutes from the beach but us generally being way too cotched and lazy to actually venture as far as there in all our three days. this reminded me of what i heard of the native threetoed sloth, who cant be bothered to go down to get its baby if it ever falls down from the tree. fuck it, id rather sleep. fair play. we did play a bit of texas holdem though, with an american who took himself way too seriously, despite looking and talking uncannily like steve-o from jackass, and refused to pay me when he lost. hmmm. a single outing was actually undertaken, to the big local beach club in manuel antonio, where our yank friend scott was repeatedly 'cockblocked' trying to dance with a local girls, and we ended up skinny dipping in the sea at five am with some mexican chicas. since both thepid and freddie were flying out a day apart, we returned to san jose to have one last biggie together at the famed nightclubs there. first, however, freddies insatiable urge to visit a lesbian sex show had to be satisfied, so off to el pelufo we went, on a yanks recommendation, none other. arriving at a very dodge looking door with no sign, at the back of a dark car park, our expecations were somewhat diminished. walking in to a tiny stonewalled bar with a single stage, and being shushhed by the twenty or so tico men seated there with equally stony expressions while watching two ticas going at it, we werent impressed, and decided to take our two free drinks and dust. after consuming these peculiar infusions of ten parts rum to half a part coke...finding out a lapdance was a quid...and witnessing some acts involving hersheys chocolate syrup, lotion, and bottles of imperial, as well as a guy hilariously humiliated on stage, we stayed. por supuesto mate. ps. more will be told to specific people, some details are too ridiculous to type. we finally left this decadence and debauchery behind to head to a club, where after chatting to two unbelievably hot girls for a total of three hours, our worst fears were realised. damn, they were hookers. we decided to call it a night. the next day i accompanied freddie to do his bungee jump off an 80m bridge near san jose. alright, it was time to go after watching him do it and get a ludicrous 'certificate of courage'. hang on...maybe i should do it...seems like a should, huh?...i mean im here...damn its scary...ok...fuck it...im doing it. so i did. and it was undescribable, like nothing ive ever done. the ground coming at you and you think youre going to crash, until the elastic limit is reached and you are flung back up...and can finally breathe and start screaming. so much blood rushed to my head that i still now have a bust capillary in my eye. totally worth it though. freddie eventually left the next day, and before i could get on a bus to go somewhere else, i became ill, and had to spend four days stuck in a hostel in san jose, abeit a very cool one. i did however, manage to get out and go on a date with one of the two girls from the first night, who turned out not to be a hooker after all...only her friend, who is a bitch, apparently, and not her friend anymore. i hear a lot of 'yeah, sure's, so stoppit. candy is a very nice girl. hahaha. just kidding, thats not her name. yeah, so this made me feel a bit better, and i managed to get on a bus to panny m to meet my friend kelly.
so, the question is- what has this trip been for me? perhaps its been educational...ive learned never to try to find the way to san jose...never to say yes to a fifth bottle of guaro...never to agree to any drunken trips no matter how good the idea sounds at the time... never sit next to a woman breathing heavily before take-off on a plane...and never to chat never to talk to anyone calling himself alexander the great, because hes just average and also insane...
maybe its been a search...for something...seeking some pertinence amongst the crackheads, mayan ruins, crappy buses, jungle, and guaro. if so, im further than ever from finding it.