We are on the Inter-American highway headed west from San Jose. The road isn't in so nearly as bad a condition nor the drivers as we were led to believe. Dean is relaxed behind the wheel. Just have to watch for all the pot holes. The countryside toward the port town of Puntarenas is rugged but pleasant--not quite West Virginia-ish.

It seemed safe enough driven at a moderate speed. However, there are no safe shoulders or nicely maintained roadsides here. We pass several fruit stands but don't stop because we come up on them too quickly.  There is a rather large one maybe 20 miles out of San Jose on the left (south) side of the road, which looks worth stopping by, but without signs to let you know, it just appears in the trees as you come around a curve.

We finally stop at a small store at a crossroads to see if there is a bathroom. We are somewhere close to the continental divide. There are many people waiting for buses along side the road. This is their vacation time and they are heading to the beach. We get pop and use the bathroom. There is no sink for hand washing and no toilet paper--you need to remember to bring my own and carry lots of waterless hand sanitizer.  It is really hot here. I see Ticos packed into the buses along with assorted luggage (no a/c?) as we drive along in our rented a/c 4-wheel. They see us, but they do not look at us or make eye contact. I think I detect a little contempt or perhaps just misunderstanding for 'wealthy foreigners' who come to explore their country which they themselves cannot afford to see. This makes me quite-appropriately uncomfortable.

We seem to have lost most of the traffic at the Puntarenas cutoff as the Pan American Highway turns northward. I've read that that area is popular with the San Jose crowd since it isn't too far away and is the closest beach. Many large cruise lines stop here so it has little appeal to us. The countryside is now getting flat, the mountains are on our right. This area seems dry and brown. We arrive at Liberia about 2:30 and find the hotel the Canadian man picked out right on the main road. Los Boyeros. They have a open-air 24-hour restaurant and as we pull in I get a whiff of the fried everything smell. We check into a stark room, but it does have a/c. No TV or telephone. There is a nice-size pool with a water slide.  Jonathan and I head  right to the pool while Dean walks over to a semi-truck trailer in a parking lot with a 'Pizza Hut' sign on it and brings back a good tasting pizza. We had a fun time eating by the pool until after 6 when it started getting dark and the air turned chilly.  We talked with a few people between shivers. The room had plenty of hot water and the shower felt good. We read and went to bed early. Jonathan is really doing great. He reads in the backseat and seems very relaxed. It is such a joy to observe him.

March 27 - Thursday. We pack up and head back down the road a mile to Las Espuelas, a hotel/restaurant I read about in the travel book. Wish we had seen this place yesterday. It is lovely.  A huge guanacaste tree stands tall in the parking lot and the architecture is hacienda-style. The breakfast is pretty good - probably because it is American-style eggs, potatoes and toast.  Jonathan and I each had several glasses of fresh pineapple and orange juice. After breakfast we went out to look around—there is a nice pool, lovely gardens and all the units all connected by covered red tile walkways interplanted with tropical gardens. We met a woman who said she was from Nicaragua, now living in Escazu.  Her husband imports gasoline for Exxon and they own the bottled water company. She talked of going to college in California and of her now grown children.

Jonathan spent a good amount of time fishing coins out of this fountain and getting soaking wet only to be dismayed when his father made him through them all back.

Then its on to Playa Grande. At the main crossroad of the Inter-American Highway were a string of fruit vendors lined up along the rode and we stop for some fresh fruit. It was not a pleasant experience. A young boy held up a small watermelon and tells me the equivalent of about $5. I won’t pay that much at home, and after I react, I feel badly for not wanting to pay his price. The father soon appears and agrees to find me a nice small one for about $2. We also bought some bananas and oranges which taste differently then our imported ones.  Another young boy comes up to the vehicle wanting to sell a strange looking clay, sun-dried sculpture that looks primitive which is actually a whistle. Jonathan thinks it would be good to show at school. The boy says (in Spanish) $15, but when I tell Jonathan, no, that's too much, the boy all of a sudden can speak English and says 5 dollars! So we buy it. I later learned there is a nearby village, Guaitil, known for resident's handmade pottery with indigenous Chorotegan designs.

As we head west from Liberia out across the Guanacaste Province it is easy to see why this very dry, flat country is said to be reminiscent of 'West Texas'. It is wide-open country, perfect for the small herds of brahmas. Homes here are very humble. A few miles out of town is a new international airport here. The Guanacaste trees grace the landscape. The roads are not clearly marked, actually not even 'unclearly', but we find our way to Playa Grande and Las Tortugas Hotel and arrive about 2.

Guanacaste landscape, about 50 miles west of Liberia.

Click for large panarama photo.