Is it Time yet?

 

 

While riding around on a bus I met and talked to a couple guys that were on their way back to San Jose to fly out and go home. I started thinking about how it would feel if I was on my way back home and it felt very exciting, I tingled with anticipation to visit that remote place I call home. It had more allure than any other CentroAmerican destination I had seen on the map so I cashed in some mileage and got a ticket back to the great city of Anchorage Alaska.

 

It was good to relax in Tamarindo for bit. The good old dusty city with American prices and seemingly endless population of Gringos. In all of my travels I haven’t found a location that resembled an American town more than Tamarindo. For good reason though, it had a majestic beach that stretched as far as the eye could see in either direction, clean warm water and plenty of activities.

 

 

 

 

After a couple final days in the sun I headed off to the huge metro center now visited twice called San Jose.

 

San Jose is a city that could be anywhere, it is huge vast with everything from ancient history museums to Ferrari dealerships. One thing that was a little odd about the place was the amount of cows they had scattered around downtown all painted or sculpted from different artists in some type of art contest.

 

 

I took a couple pictures of the first dozen or so cows thinking it was a novel idea, later I realized that the number of these cows was infinite, they went on for miles in a kind of endless treasure hunt around the city. I finally forced myself to stop photographing this plague of painted cows when I found myself wandering in some dangerous barrio in the dark trying to get a shot of maybe the 70^th display.

 

 

 

While trying to decide where to eat in San Jose there is just about every option available to a traveler including all the American restaurant chains. I couldn’t fathom having the opportunity to be in a foreign land such as this and eating at an American chain such as Outback steakhouse or Mcdonalds. As I was walking down the street I noticed a crowd around a small entrance to a brightly light restaurant with a sweet home cooked aroma emanating from it.

 

 

I pushed my way inside and wasn’t the least bit surprised to see that colonel Sanders had wooed this town with his delectable 11 secret spiced pollo frito. I had to wait in line for the better part of a half hour to get my hands on the precisely cooked chicken but it was a little slice of heaven in this far away land. I am pretty sure the staff at the KFC wanted to throw me some CentroAmerican curve ball so they included a tub of a mysterious white cream that I didn’t have the courage to try. I tried to ask some patrons what this substance was but I didn’t understand when they explained it to me, and they didn’t want it, so I was pretty sure it was dangerous.

 

 

 

I don’t know who’s idea it was to start making Capri pants for boys but I just can’t get onboard this train.

 

 

 

 

My flight out in the morning was at 6:30 am so I tucked in at the luxurious Presidente Hotel and enjoyed some 4 star comforts for the sweet low price of $55.