La Costa!

Happiness is a coconut batido and a hammock on the beach
I was expecting more beach photos because someone I met took photos of me later on and said they would email them to me... I wonder where those photos are now. Oh well, heres me and the beach!
Muddy streets of Canoa, the peach building in the back is the 2nd hostel I stayed at, off the main street.

After New Years I took a very long bus ride to the coast, arriving in Pedernales after 6 or so hours (lost track of time reading and knitting) which meant I was just in time to miss the bus to Canoa. Luckily, 3 other travelers from Norway and Ecuador were in the same situation and we could all share a cab. The bus ride was long, but what felt longer was the time the driver spent stopping and waiting all over hoping more people would get on the bus and pay their fare. I thought after New Years would be perfect for travel to the coast because everyone was returning or staying in town, but I didn´t realize that bus drivers don´t want to bother with a half empty bus. Anyway the ride in the taxi was relatively unevently besides several unexpected pot holes and seeing sparks of fire flies along the way.

It was dark when we arrived so I only got to explore the tiny town, made up mostly of restaurants and bars, muddy dirt streets and then the ocean. In the morning I ate the best crepe pancake filled with fruit salad for $1.50, I seriously love the prices and quality of food I have found traveling. I switched hostels after the first night because the main street was a bit too loud in the morning, and met Sammer, my new neighbor in the new hostel first at an internet cafe and then discovered my room was right next to his. Sammer is, and I mean really is Peter Nelson. Except he is a surfer. I am sure there may be some other slight differences, but after going out to lunch I was convinced of the incredible similarity.

My time in Canoa, a super tranquilo surfer and fisher town, was short and sweet. There was just enough cloud cover that the temperature remained at about room temperature all day, which was wonderful because laying out on the beach was more comfortable than the mid-day roasting of Costa Rica beaches. I really love wandering along beaches looking at sea shells, so I was in the right place. I also was fascinated by the pelicans. I had no idea that they fly in such large groups. There were other very silly looking birds and cranes, I really need to get some pictures up here.

The first two days I started by walking a block down to the beach and renting a body board. I have had some surfing adventures and misadventures in Hawaii, the grand finale invovling me practically naked clinging to a surf board while Steve and stranger attempted to guide me out of the rocks and coral. Sooo I was feeling a little wary of renting a board. I´ve never tried body boarding so I first went about using what I knew about surfing, so I was mostly tossed about and knocked down by waves farther out than I should have been. Oh but being right there when the pelicans swooped down low along the crest of the waves looking for fish was worth it. Soon I realized I needed to be scooting along with the tiny waves near shore, and although my board was pretty crappy I also realized that body boarding seems to be much more my pace than surfing.

I probably said this when I went to the beach in Costa Rica as well, but the beach is one place that I will admit is quite strange to go alone. I thought about this as I stood in the waves looking from time to time at the families and couples nearby. It was a moment of loneliness that I reasoned away, because I have really mostly gone to the ocean with family when I was little and as an only child I spent a majority of that time playing alone... So I thought, here I am playing alone, all that is really missing is the person watching me... Grandma for example. I missed my family, but I thought to myself, you know... this is okay. I´m okay. And then I caught a wave that took me all the way into shore, a body boarding ideal I believe.

Canoa is known for having the highest hammock per capita or something like that, and I did spend a good amount of time in hammocks with my book or journal and tall glasses of batididos de coco, or coconut smoothies. I hoped to watch the sunset on the beach alone, but the trouble with traveling alone and sitting silently is that is attracts attention. To my annoyance I was approached by a guy named Carlos, and then 2 other guys came to find out what I was doing alone on the beach as well. I was polite, I answered questions, smiled a bit, but mostly stared out at the ocean and the sky. Looking back it was still pleasant, because my sunset was supplimented by the Kapoera (spelling???) instrument playing and singing of my visitors.

The next day, which was supposed to be my last, I awoke to find that the bottoms for my bathing suit had disapeared. I had left my bathing suit out on the hostel balcony to dry near Sammer´s things, and the only thing missing were my bathing black ¨pirate¨ bathing suit bottoms (they have a little skull and crossed swords on them). I don´t think they fell off the balcony, and I can understand why no one would want my ¨bathingsuit top¨, it is far more puritan than the bottoms and doesn´t match them at all because it is really just a blue exercise top. I stood there for a moment wondering what exactly I should swim in, or if I should just catch the bus and skip the beach that day. There was no way I was going to let a missing bathing suit get in my way, I became determined to have an even better day than if nothing had happened. So I went an bought a whole new (much less Puritan) bathingsuit on the main street completely unsure if it would actually fit and put it on in the bathroom of the place I returned to every morning for fruit crepes. Except that morning I asked if I could take my plate down to the beach, which I did. It was 8 am and I was the only one on the beach besides fishing boats way down the beach and people setting up stands further away from the water. It was a sunnier day by far and I sat down in the sand close to the water and watched the waves while enjoying my breakfast. Afterwards I ran into the water and jumped in the waves, like a 5 year old, or in my case like a 22 year old.

After I returned my plate I came back to the beach and saw Carlos, the sunset guy getting ready to surf. He asked when I was leaving and I said in about 2 hours and he attempted to convince me to stay another day, to be in Canoa for the big Saturday night fiestas. I was not interested in the fiestas, but my train of thought was: would I rather have 1 more night in Canoa or 1 more night in Quito. Canoa won, and I told Carlos I would stay for the rest of the day if he gave me a surf lesson. It was all a matter of renting a board, which is easy and cheap in Canoa.

So I ended up surfing afterall! Thank you to whoever took my bathingsuit or knocked it off the balcony, you are my liberator! Surfing was great, followed by a delicious lunch and another glorious day at the beach, including a long lovely nap in the sun... and a bit of a sunburn. That night I danced a bit of salsa and then decided I´d rather go back to the hostel hammock than spend much more time around the bars. I am probably the only girl that orders coconut batidos past 10 pm. I am also beginning to realize just how much a cherish time to myself... and how strange this can seem to other travelers.

The next day I made it back to Quito thanks to a series of miracles. I went back a different way than I arrived, not knowing any of the times of the busses or boats. I took a bus as soon as I walked on the main street, then a boat to another town, then got a ride on one of those bicycle taxis to the bus terminal where the bus to Quito was not currently full but would be at a later stop... so it a lot of me looking confused and asking about the bus over and over until they let me ride to another major bus station where the person whose seat I was in would get on. At that bus station they told me the bus about to leave for Quito was full and that I would have to wait a few hours for the next. My flight was leaving the next day and I was anxious to get back to Quito ASAP so I asked the bus driver and his assistant a few times and was fortunately picked over a few others to get to just sit up front. A bit later I got to sit in an open seat that had again been purchased by someone getting on at a later stop, but for one reason or another I got to keep that seat. Eventually I was back in Quito... and ready to move on to Peru.