Travel Talk

Juggling Machetes in the Jungle of Costa Rica


Greetings,

I’m writing this while sweat pours from every orifice of my tired and not so old but definitely not young body. I’ve been juggling machetes in the jungle for the last few days and I assure you, it’s harder than it sounds. To add potential insult to potential fatal injury, if you drop such said machete when you’re out here, you’re as good as dead. I’ve become vigilant like a Jedi and Kamikaze in a sense that I’m ready to die…

Oh yeah, that is the sunset where I’m staying from the 3rd floor, pretty awesome.

Seriously, it’s hot as hell’s kitchen with a side of humidity and I’ve been on vacation lately and now feel like that fat deadbeat who comes back filled with debt and a big belly. The only difference is I have no debt, I haven’t come back and my belly is bigger than that of a normal mother expecting quintuplets! Why is it that vacation is a synonym for “let yourself go?” or “make yourself feel gross inside and out in paradise?” I digress…

I’ve got lots on the go, things that actually make me cash unlike this blog which just gives me a bed rash from typing away while a hot laptop does it’s best to sterilize me as I stare into a matrix of bits and bytes. I’m really happy here in Puerto Jimenez despite not being the productive mofo I know I can be. I also have to deal with a great visa debacle which is totally my own fault, ehhhh….

When you enter a country always say I don’t know when I’m leaving and they will almost always say “cool” and give you a 30-60 day visa. I made the error of saying I had a flight on the 7th so they gave me a 10 day visa which expires tomorrow. As a result I must make my way back to the border of Panama and Costa Rica to that tiny little town and go through the whole process once more. To make matters more interesting, they may ask lots of questions and make me stay out of the country a few days which would suck.

I also want to mention that dead season around this part of the world is DEAD. If you EVER want to move somewhere, come visit in Dead Season to get a real taste. Also, now I know, oh I know why most of the local gents I meet go and party hard for the entire high season; it’s because when the tourists leave things die, seriously. It’s like they are bears who hibernate on beaches buried under barracuda carcases during the dead season all to come alive filled with fried fish drenched in rum and looking for fun and females who like a good fiesta!

It makes sense, doesn’t it?

Tomorrow is going to be an ordeal and I have much work to do but find it somewhat simple to just sit on the patio with a cold rum and coconut water while watching birds… That or passing out during sunset with a cold beer in my hand all to wake up and realize I’ve been attacked by a colony of insects and then spend the night scratching like that tweaker who thinks they have bugs on them but there are none…

Tips hat,

P.S: More on living in a jungle, it’s a different trip than staying at a resort…

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