A few observations on Costa Rica

Before I bore you all with my travelogue I have a few things I want to get out of the way.

First of all, in my admittedly limited experience, Costa Rica is an absolutely wonderful place. Every day was better than the last. We were sad to leave. I just wanted to get that out of the way.

Ok. So. In Costa Rica, the roads are not as uniformly horrible as the guidebooks indicate, though the food *is* generally uninspiring no matter where you go. But where the roads are bad, they're very, very bad. Our car ride from the airport at Tambor to the town of Montezuma was rather harrowing. The road that brings you there is positioned roughly an 80 degree angle, and at the bottom of the hill, a giant gulf appears every time it rains. I expected the car to start tumbling ass over teakettle. I have newfound appreciation for the Jesus bar.

One of the things the guidebooks neglect to mention is the matter of toilet paper. I hope I'm not breaking some international pact by bringing it up. See, in Costa Rica, you can't put it in the toilet after you've used it. You put it in the garbage can (which is hopefully) next to the toilet. If you're not someone who gives much thought to the color, texture, and consistency of your shit, you will become so after a week.

Speaking of shitting, a fun fact: I barely did any of it. Yes, I of the sensitive stomach spent a week in Central America and pooped twice. Toward the end of the trip I was making a concerted effort to consume all the tap water and unwashed fruit I could. I blame the rice.

Finally, the music: Costa Rica is apparently where the 80s go to die. If you have a hankering for some Nu Shooz or Rick Astley, I cannot recommend visiting Costa Rica high enough. I am almost certain that the music is an effort to appease tourists, however, an informal poll of our neighbors at the bars suggested that this noble attempt fell short of its intent.

After 6 days of keyboards and computerized handclaps, I was ecstatic to hear a live John Fogerty record.