I love Montezuma and all of its pothead hippies. It's a fat tourist fest, but I think this is just what we all needed. I have spent these past two days with my nose stuck in a book, sunning by the pool or at the beach, and not eating gallo pinto. Instead, we've all been eating our weight in Italian food. Incredible pizza the first night, a good pasta fix last night, and tonight we are thinking calzones. Oh baby. Last night's restaurant was weird, though. About 10 minutes after we sat down for our dinner, they switched off the lights and pulled down a big projector screen and started playing "National Treasure 2" with the director's commentary running across the screen in Spanish. So yeah that was weird. I hadn't seen the second National Treasure, though, and I really liked it once I got over how annoyed I was that I couldn't see my food and that I couldn't hear anything but the movie. For breakfast, we frequent this restaurant/ bar that has the most gorgeous view of the beach and is cheap as dirt. I have been on four different occasions already. Yikes. The waitress knows us well now.
I am all freckled out. Not so much on the burn front, though, so go me.
The pool at our hotel is beautiful. It's got a little jacuzzi that waterfalls into the pool that is always a perfect temperature. It's tiled with these pretty little blue tiles and has this gorgeous view of the ocean. And it's usually empty. Probably my most favorite part of the hotel.
Our hotel advertises yoga classes and retreats, but we were informed yesterday that those things don't start up til next month. Freaking off season.
Tia-ita has made lots of new friends. Ricardo works here at the hotel and told Tia that we should all go and hang out with him and his friends at Playa Grande on Saturday. He also mentioned to her that he will be at Chico (Montezuma's version of Bar Amigo) tonight... Oh Tia-ita just don't do anything too crazy. She also made friends with Diego, the starving artist slash bracelet-maker. He is grungy and has really long hair and wears rocker tees with the sleeves cut off. He wants to take her out as well. Then today Tia was just walking around on the beach when three guys on a four-wheeler pulled up and asked her if she wanted to go to the waterfall with them. She said yes, hopped on the four-wheeler, and turned down a helmet. Tia-ita! So then she hiked up the waterfall trails with these three randos and jumped off the highest waterfall. She managed to bust her bikini top and land awkwardly enough in the water to walk away with commendable war wounds. She is now sporting a fatty purple and red bruise that covers her entire right thigh. The girl is loca. Straight up. She makes me laugh, though. I guess we'll keep her around.
Annie-poo is the model of the group. She is always camera-ready. Always. The cameras are having a hard time trying to keep up with her, though. But Momma Cross, be proud--Ann has been bathing in sunscreen, hanging in the shade, and she even whipped out the umbrella today. She's about as hardcore as they come.
Today we took a public bus over to Cobano, probably the trashiest place ever. Abby and I went into a few shops in search of Bar Amigo wear, and came out empty-handed and in need of a shower. This one place was so sketchy. We took the stairs to get up to it, and found a barren room that had all of about 30 pieces of clothing hung on the walls. And a sandbox that served as a purse display. I sincerely had the feeling that everything in there had been stolen. It took me back to New York, after following the little Chinese people to the back rooms of abandoned apartments to barter over knock-off slash stolen goods. Good times. Love for NHSMUN.
After the Cobano versions of Dollar Tree, Good Will, and New York sketchiness, Abs and I threw in the towel and headed over to Cafe Azucar. She was craving a Diet Coke and I was craving an iced latte. So we got those, and a brownie a la mode. It was the special (not to be confused with a special brownie). We had to get it.
We stole Boggle from the Ecolodge like the good junkies we are. We have been indulging in all of our favorite addictions: Boggle, One Tree Hill, and peanut butter. Between the six of us, we have four and a half jars of peanut butter (the half jar is this "goober" business that is beyond me--peanut butter and jelly in the same jar? That just isn't right.). I got 16 words in a round of Boggle yesterday. I was feeling pretty great about my life.
Tomorrow morning Ann, Tia, Tess, and Abby are going to have surfing lessons at Playa Grande. After considering the amount of money I have already blown in two days in addition to the fact that I will be taking surfing lessons all week when the fam gets here, I decided to sit this one out. I am perfectly content just sunning and reading and listening to my iPod. Plus Cayman told me this horrible story about how a friend of hers got her front teeth knocked out on a surfboard when she first was trying to learn and her nerves were like dangling from her gums. And let's face it: if I get my teeth knocked out in Costa Rica, chances are I will be toothless til I get back to the states. And then how would I eat all this delicious food? Slash I would look like a goon. But more importantly the food factor.
On the ferry ride over to Montezuma we met this guy who doesn't wear shoes. Like it's his thing. He quit his job in Montana a few years back to move to Costa Rica, but still has a solar-powered house back in the states. He showed me his fatty calluses and said that he never much cared for shoes. The man lived in Illinois. As in the ground is frequently covered in snow and ice. And now in Costa Rica, where everything is hot all the time. Crazy hippie.
On the ferry, I ate a taquito (meaning little taco, Tess). It made me miss Dave.
I haven't stopped sweating since we got to Montezuma. It's a problem.
peace love and hippies
