From my travelling friends I had heard of Costa Rica's largest active vocano, called Arenal, that was half way between here and the border with Nicaragua, and so I was determined that it being further north and west, there was a better chance of finding dry weather.
M' was going off to the beach to the south of San Jose, and her bus left even earlier than mine, so thankfully her getting up and getting ready was enough to rouse me and then I myself had to dash to clear out, check out and make my way to the bus terminal for a 6.15 departure.
The taxi driver spoke no English, but asked if he could pick up a second passenger who wanted to be dropped off halfway towards the bus terminal, and looking at the other passenger and the fact that he worked at the hostel opposite ours I figured that he would probably be a safe bet, and it turned out ok in the end as I did indeed manage to reach the terminal in time for the bus.
As the time was very early, the ticket booth was not yet open, so I just had to queue up along with everyone else and hope that there would be enough space on the bus for me. The fare for the taxi was 2000 colones and the bus fare was 2100 colones, and the four and a half hour journey should see me arrive before midday and have plenty of time to wander around the town before taking a tour up the volcano at 2pm.
The journey started promising with some Americans, which meant english conversation, and enough time to grab a coke and chocolate bar before we left ( as I had had to forgo a lovely pancake breakfast due to the early start needed ) and the sun even crept out from behind the clouds for a few moments and I could not but help thinking that this was going to be a very good day.
However, my hopes were soon dashed when the sun slipped away agin, the rain began and was soon falling harder than ever and then to make matters worse a car ahead slipped in the bad weather and went into one of the frequent mud slides that seemed to be on every corner and the wait for the police, the ambulance and the insurance agent delayed us over two hours and by this time we should already have arrived and I was busting for a pit stop.
In fact the delay was so long that the bus driver decided that he did not have neough time to take us all the way, so at the next large terminal he set us all down, changed his sign and sped off into the gloom, leaving us all on the platform unaware of what was going on, or how long we would have to wait for the next bus to La Fortuna. The only slight good thing to come out of all the delay was that the bus driver refunded half the bus fare, however that was nothing compared to the money lost by the Americans who would have to cancel a complete trip with little or no chance of a refund.
Whilst most of us made a dash for the rest rooms, a sneak theif used the confusion to pick the pocket of the American tourists that I was talking to, and she was frustrated and annoyed as although she had only lost a few dollars in actual money, it was also the fact that in the wallet was her credit cards, her student ID and a few other bits and bobs that were inconveniencing and at the same time worth virtually nothing at all to the person who stole them.
After a delay of over half an hour we managed to get on the next bus, although I ended up being right by the door and so every time that it stopped ( which it frequently did ) to let anyone off I had to get out and stand by the bus before remounting the steps just before it sped off again into the drissling rain.
When it finally reached La Fortuna the rain had easily matched our progress and instead of a nice clear sky all that could be seen of the volcano was its lowest crest amid the gloom and invisibility that the rain, fog and cloud offered it. Looking up at the sky I knew that I was not going to be able to see any lava flow today or tonight, and so I checked in for two nights with a feint hope of a sunnier tomorrow but also with a growing hatred of rain and an almost desperate urge to just jump on a plane and fly to anywhere further along my route that promised a dry sky and a chance to relax and lift the depression that was closing in all around me.
The hostel had some very good facilities, except that it didnt have a tv room, a book exchange and the computers were locked away so that you cannot use a usb memory stick or camera memory card, but it looked good from the outside, had a few hammocks and a kick arse pool that in the summer would be packed full for frolicking travellers from sun up to sundown.
I checked into my room, after a tiny bit of confusion, and then want for a walk and a massage to try and unwind and unstress as I had reached my limit of rain and problems and with allt he hassle back home inthe UK with my banks being stupid I was beginning to get just pissed off with being away and paying for a trip that was turning over very different to what I had imagined it.
The age old saying of "Be careful of what you wish for as you might just get it" was coming back to haunt me, as many a time I have wished to be able to travel around the world, but I never thought to add a clause about the weather conditions or lacking in any of the problems that can often accompany travelling for any serious length of time.
The massage did wonders for my battered spirit, and was helped in that it was the masseuse was a friendly young lass who decided instead of giving me a swedish massage that was was going to give me a hot stone massage, which was the first time that I had ever tried one and in the cool climate that I am in, due to the ever present rain, the hot stones was a welcome change and I could feel the healing powers of the hot rocks rejuvinate me, and all for the price of 2100 colonas.
After the massage I went for a walk around the super market to get a few bits to eat and was disguested at the prepacked bread and scones that were not sealed properly and had so many tiny insects crawling all over it that I can still see them when I close my eyes. Walking to the other end of the shop I picked up some factory vacuum packed crisps and fizzy pop and then headed on back to the hostel wearing my new yellow rainproof poncho, that was only good enough to my chest and upper arms and legs. My jacket was drenched and my trousers looked like I had interrupted the washing machine cycle and taken them out prematurely.
In my room I was joined but some week long travelling American boys, down for an awesome and radical time with white water rafting, volcano trekking and a few other semi extreme sports, and I hoped for them as much as myself that the weather would start to brighten up over the next few days.
Updating my blog to include today I did my best to keep my mood jovial, but I am seriouly thinking of skipping out on nicaragua altogher and flying early to San PEdro Sula in Honduras, which almost has to be warmer and drier ( as it could not be much wetter ) and at least there is more to do there and my friend there is looking forward to meeting me.
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