This is more like it. On the move with pace and gusto. Sweating in the mid morning sun, striding for the bus station. I’m going to be meeting two friends from Norway, and along with my Swedish companion Jacob, we shall be heading down to Monteverde and into the cloud forest. As is typical with me however, it doesn’t go all to plan, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
Jacob and the two girls decide to head straight to Bocas, which is a pretty mammoth journey in itself. Suddenly I’m torn between staying with friends, or striking out properly on my own. Over the course of the next hour I find myself alone at the terminal, and just managing to board a bus in time with all my gear, I feel exonerated that I stuck to my guns and decided to travel by myself. The partying can wait a few more days; I’ve heard Monteverde is beautiful.
So I settle into a seat when one finally becomes available, and I watch the trees play with the sunlight on my face. The windows are wide open, curtains flapping and hair flying in the needed breeze, and for the first time in as long as I can remember; everything is alright with the world. Leaving people behind and traveling on my own is something I should have tried a long time ago. I have stepped away from the handrail, and it feels pretty damn good.
The journey to Monteverde is punctuated with beauty. The scenery is breathtakingly green. When I say green, I mean GREEN. The hills are carpeted with lush foliage, which is highlighted by a brilliant blue sky. The bus winds up through mountain roads, snaking its way to our destination. As much as I should behold the view from my window, sleep overtakes me, ably assisted by the rumble of the diesel engine.
I awake twisting down into Monteverde and eventually pulling in to the curbside. The town is small, barely a triangle of buildings, but the area spans for many acres, dense with rain forest, thriving with adventure. Tomorrow I will attempt to face my fear of heights by zip lining through the jungle canopies, but today and for now, I am content to feel totally free.
Endless possibilities
This is more like it. On the move with pace and gusto. Sweating in the mid morning sun, striding for the bus station. I’m going to be meeting two friends from Norway, and along with my Swedish companion Jacob, we shall be heading down to Monteverde and into the cloud forest. As is typical with me however, it doesn’t go all to plan, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
Jacob and the two girls decide to head straight to Bocas, which is a pretty mammoth journey in itself. Suddenly I’m torn between staying with friends, or striking out properly on my own. Over the course of the next hour I find myself alone at the terminal, and just managing to board a bus in time with all my gear, I feel exonerated that I stuck to my guns and decided to travel by myself. The partying can wait a few more days; I’ve heard Monteverde is beautiful.
So I settle into a seat when one finally becomes available, and I watch the trees play with the sunlight on my face. The windows are wide open, curtains flapping and hair flying in the needed breeze, and for the first time in as long as I can remember; everything is alright with the world. Leaving people behind and traveling on my own is something I should have tried a long time ago. I have stepped away from the handrail, and it feels pretty damn good.
The journey to Monteverde is punctuated with beauty. The scenery is breathtakingly green. When I say green, I mean GREEN. The hills are carpeted with lush foliage, which is highlighted by a brilliant blue sky. The bus winds up through mountain roads, snaking its way to our destination. As much as I should behold the view from my window, sleep overtakes me, ably assisted by the rumble of the diesel engine.
I awake twisting down into Monteverde and eventually pulling in to the curbside. The town is small, barely a triangle of buildings, but the area spans for many acres, dense with rain forest, thriving with adventure. Tomorrow I will attempt to face my fear of heights by zip lining through the jungle canopies, but today and for now, I am content to feel totally free.