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Goog looking dog and surfing crocodiles
Entry 3 of 20 | show all | print this entry |
So we finally arrived in Dominical, the trip there was easy and without events. We had been told of a hostel right on the beach, but had learnt that this could mean up to 10 minutes walk to surf depending on the nature of the coastal terrain. We pull up to the San Clemente hostel in our taxi and sure enough this one is right on the beach, as promised. The manager, Junior, speaks good english and shows us round a few dorm rooms and also a twin room with a view of the break on our doorstep, I manage to negotiate the twin for the same price as a dorm and we unpack our stuff with a happy grin on our faces. There is surf, right in front of us, ready for the taking, after pulling on the first pair of boardshorts you can find and unpacking and preparing your board its time to hit the waves...
The waves are a good size and the wind is not strong so we paddle out in anticipation. The journey out beyond the white water isnt too tough as there is a good time between waves and sets, but we soon realise it is a fair bit bigger than it looks from the shore. The waves quickly jack up into a steep face before breaking into a close out 9 times out of 10, I have tried to surf this kind of wave before in Morocco and got into trouble, I have progressed since then but I decide to be very cautious. I sit a bit outside where most of the sets are breaking to study them for a bit and also give me a chance to paddle over any nasty clean up sets coming through (for those not up on surf jargon, this is a set of waves that is bigger than the rest and breaks further out to sea). I see jb catch a few of the smaller waves, he paddles for a few of the larger ones but pulls out at the last moment, not liking the look of the drop on the other side....I dont blame him! I try for one wave, mess up the steep take-off and get sent to the bottom, my body hits the sand and is held there, I open my eyes and everything is black. After what seems like an eternity but is in reality only a few seconds I am released by the swirling water and free to kick for the surface. I paddle even further back out to get my breath back, I still have a big grin on my face, because even uncomfortable moments like that make surfing the incredible experience that it is.
After a while jb gets bored and decides to go for one of the beasts, he makes the drop but gets slammed by the lip, he paddles back out to me and I see he has blood running down his forehead from a cut and a nasty bruise developing. He shows me a long scratch down his armpit he also picked up. I think about how unfit I am and still very rusty after not having surfed properly in a while, it doesnt take me long to figure that whatever waves I try and catch are much more likely to end in pain than pleasure. I tell jb I am going to try and catch a small wave in and he doesnt hesitate in agreeing that is the best course of action for both of us. Catching a small one back in was a lot harder than it sounds, its a balance between getting inside of the sets to catch a smaller wave and trying not to get in the impact zone of the larger ones. We both catch waves in and view from the shore the heavy conditions we have just run from.
That evening we head to the closest bar/restaurant and murder some juicy burritos, we meet Will, an 18 yr old kid from the US who is near the end of a 4 month trip in Costa Rica. After watching him the next day, we see he is a damn good surfer and its no surprise that he regularly competes back home. That evening he gives us the lowdown on the wave at Dominical, he says it is the heaviest wave he has surfed so far in Costa Rica (good to know I wasnt just being a wimp!). He also informs us that it is not uncommon to see crocodiles alongside you in the line up, they feed in to the break from the wide river just to the right of where we were staying. He claims to have seen one already and to keep an eye out, I am sceptical, but that doesnt stop me from checking out some footage of the late and legendary Steve Irwin when I get on the internet next. I follow this up with practising Steves accent using the words 'whoa there!', 'easy tiger' and 'paddle for ya life mate, he´s comin for ya and he looks grrrrumpy!!' After mastering this and Steve's trademark headlock on my handy crocodile dummy (board bag), I feel ready to go out there and whatever the ocean can throw at me.
Before using the internet the next day I need some paper to write details down regarding replacing my passport etc.. I look round a few shops to no avail and when i ask where I can buy paper I am directed to the Pet Shop. I find this strange, but head over there to see for myself. Sure enough, alongside chewable toys, dog biscuits and crocodile name collars I find a nice selection of pads and notebooks.
We spend our days in Dominical doing the usual mix of surfing, reading and games to amuse ourselves. We meet some interesting people in our stay there. This includes two cyclists, one English and the other Australian. They are touring round Central America together on bikes laden with all their belongings, after seeing a lot of what Costa Rican roads have to offer, I am impressed! It seems to me like a great way to travel, its cheap, you get to see everything as you go by and you are not restricted by public transport times. However, the hard pedalling and fixing of your bikes would probably become less of a novelty after a while and as far as I know you cant get a surfrack for a bicycle.
An American called David stayed at our hostel a few nights, he was a strange fella. He constantly wore what I can only describe as a hat in the style of Errol Flynn's Robin Hood, with a feather sticking out. He had a story for every occasion and told them with a great deal of excitement and arm waving, only he was the only one getting excited. It was hard to get a word in edge ways sometimes and before you had finished describing one of your experiences he chipped in with something bigger and better, but the same. After a while I got the feeling that he could tell you about how he cleaned his teeth that morning with the same level of enthusiasm and gusto!
Junior, the manager, was very friendly and offered good advice on local eateries. He introduced us to his friend, Guapa (good looking in Spanish). Guapa was a dog, he was small, brown and looked healthy (Junior looked after him even though he was a stray). However, the name Guapa was ironicly given, he had to be the single ugliest dog I had ever seen! His snout was long and thin, completely out of place on his tiny head. His eyes sat up on his head like they were an afterthought from the creator and somehow his ears were lower then them. I could see why Junior had took pity on him. I think he only refrained from claiming ownership of Guapa to avoid the inevitable 'owner looking like dog' consequence!
The wildlife here was more abundant than anywhere so far, and I couldnt help but yearn for my camera to take shots of thick lines of ants which carried tiny pieces of green leaves across the same route all day every day. In the evening, our balcony became a hunting ground for a gang of 10 to 15 geckos, the moths and other insects were attracted by the light and caught trying to fly through the ceiling. The geckos would scarper across the ceiling with their sticky feet and incredibly flexible jaws to capture the moths and swallow them whole, leaving them with a significant bump in there belly.
The weekend before we were leaving for San Jose, Dominical embraced Halloween with force. The majority of tourists and expats living there being American's explained a lot. Friday, Saturday and Sunday all had parties planned at different venues. On Friday, we arrived at the first party which happened to be at the San Clemente bar, in the centre of town away from the beach but owned by the same people as our hostel. Perhaps a third of the party goers had no costumes, including me and jb, that didnt stop us from getting into the thick of it and having a great time.
Near the end of the night the people who had made the most effort gathered on the stage above the dancefloor and took turns to dance, act out there characters or just shake there bum a lot. As is usual in these public contests, the winner was decided by levels of applause and hooting from the crowd. One guy in a Beetlejuice outfit didnt have the best get up, but he certainly made up for it with his performance. He positioned hinself sat at the front of the stage where he was free to add to other peoples performances or disrupt them depending on what charachter he was up against. He had my vote for the entertainment factor, but the dj and a big chunk of the crowd preferred Mr Bling Bling (basically a seventies disco dude with dollar medallion and funky affro, his act consisted of flexing and pointing to people in the crowd, grinning and pointing. He didnt even attempt to dance much). I couldnt help but think the less than attractive Beetlejuice had lost out to a crowd who valued looks over substance. After buying him a consolation drink and practising my Spanish despite the roar of the speakers I decide I have had enough and head back to the hostel, an hour or so after jb.
The next evening we walk to the far end of the beach and over a rocky headland to have a meal at a place recomended by Junior. Roca Verde was the location for the Saturday night party and was already rivaling San Clemente with the orange and black deckings, pumpkins, giant cobwebs and a huge sound system. near the end of our meal the weather changes and the familiar torrential downpour begins. We try and wait it out but its clear its not going to stop anytime soon. The walk back over the rocks in the dark is too risky, so we are stuck with a 20 minute walk along a mostly unlit road with lorries screaming past. I try and hitch a lift but the usual friendliness is not about this evening. Our walk is punctuated by flashes of lighting showing us the surrounding jungle briefly. In the dark, tiny lights flash and move in the undergrowth to the left of us which can only come from some form of life. I am insisting they come from the eyes of giant frogs, jb's nemesis, he ensures me they are fireflies and even convinced himself until he jumps and yelps as a frog crosses his path!
The next morning we are headed for San Jose to secure myself a new passport and replacement flight tickets.
Thats all for now..
Pete
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