Costa Rica is renown for being a magnet for Americans, obviously meaning it's the last place that I would want to be hanging around for too long. It's also a complete rip off compared to the rest of Central America's countries, which I think proves Americans are the ones who set the Gringo standard, and just love to be ripped off. Despite this, San Jose, the capital, really struck me as quite an interesting place. Streets lined with all types of tranny prostitutes, a whole lot of really cool street art, and a subtle hint of violence looming in the air were just some of the eerie and peculiar things that can turn another boring city into exactly the opposite.

We arrived in San Jose only minutes before midnight, and stumbled into Tranquillo hostel, instantly drawn in by the relaxed and welcoming vibes. A few people from Byron were having a jam in the foyer, with the sound of the familiar but almost forgotten didgeridoo vibrating down the hallway and out into the silent streets. We straightaway felt at home.

Tranquillo Hostel

Another reason why Ness and I fell in love with this wayward city? More Ropa Americana's. In my opinion the only good thing that's ever come out of America, besides Johnny Depp. We spent a whole day frolicking around the somewhat contemporary streets of San Jose, in and out of every thrift store we could find. Every time we walked into a store our hearts would be thumping from desire - there was just too much good stuff to take in. Obviously, this was our version of the finest of heavens, and of course we did go a little overboard with our spendings, resulting in us both leaving a ridiculous pile of old but eternally loved clothes behind at the hostel for others to have a chance to enjoy.

Two days in San Jose proved to be enough, so we packed up our things and were bound again for the bright and beautiful Caribbean coast. Puerto Veijo was the desired destination, another gorgeous coastal town with the right kind of laid-back attitude. Our home for the next three days was Rocking J's, one of those hostels that really stands out from the rest. Covered head to toe in mosaic tiles, enlightening quotations, and more abstract art that you could poke a stick at, this place was hands down my favourite hostel to date.

One of the best things about Puerto Viejo are the miles and miles of beach stretching along the coast in both directions from the middle. Another plus, our hostel had a prime beachfront location. A 10 minute walk through down an ambient shady path lead us to the always picture perfect white sand beaches of the Caribbean. Five minutes at this pristine beach and we all knew how hard it was going to be to leave.


We spent the afternoon doing what all travellers learn to do so well... nothing. We laid on the green grass all afternoon smoking doobies, drinking rum, and having the best conversations about life and its mysterious ways. That's another thing that you often find yourself frequently doing whilst travelling, getting in depth with the best kind of thoughts about life, and reflecting on all it's glory. Unhappy days generally don't exist whilst you happen to be living the dream in paradise.


After a delicious taco dinner at the hostel restaurant, Ness and I set off into town to satisfy one of our many stoner traditions: eating snickers. At about 9pm and half way into town we were stopped by the owner of a Greek restaurant who seemed ready to do just about anything to get us to come into his restaurant for dinner. First he gave us samples of his delicious tapas food, and said we could eat as much as we wanted for half the price, only $6 each. We refused his kind offer, over and over again having to inform him we'd already eaten. ''Ok ok ok, what if I give you free alcohol, and you can both eat for $3 each.'' He obviously couldn't take a hint and we tried apologising again and walking away.

''OKAY,'' he shouted after us ''what if you both eat and drink here for free, and just leave my staff a tip.'' This was evidently an offer that full bellies aside, we obviously could not refuse. So we ate a scrumptious second dinner for the evening, whilst being entertained by a middle aged crazy American hippie who seemed to be on the run from something, who had countless card tricks and lame jokes for our amusement. We left what we thought was a rather generous tip of $2 for the waiter, and set off home. We were so ridiculously full on the walk back that we both ended up leaving a trail of spew behind us... Only to make room for more beer of course.

More updates to come!
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