Saturday Day 12

One couple we met at movie night was Peter and Melissa from Ontario, Canada. Peter is originally from Kenya and worked in Canada running a drug and alcohol rehab program. They offered to take us to the farmers market or feria and a tour of Puriscal today. In addition to the feria we saw the Post Office la oficina de correos and a Pharmacy la farmacia, both of which should come in handy during our stay.

Knowing where to find things and how to get around town is a necessity. Puriscal is a town of only 8,ooo people but it is loaded with driving traps—not speed traps—one-way streets, illegible road signs, and a total lack of visible street names. That can make even an experienced big-city U.S. driver quiver with apprehension.

Some of the signs make no sense even for Spanish speakers. No Hay Paso means do not enter or one way and the sign is usually seen fifty meters after you have already entered the intersection! I have made some nice three-point U-turns when I’ve found myself going the wrong way on a one-way street—and heard the shouts and jeers from pedestrians on the side of the street. (Mostly I think they are just laughing at the gringo driver going the wrong way.)

Which brings up another interesting tidbit—there are no sidewalks in the entire country! Instead there are large cement drainage culverts and drivers park their cars over them—straddling  the ditch—and people walk between the narrow  space between road and ditch. Whether on country roads or in the towns and cities it can make for a nail biting ride for my passengers.

In the evening we drove to Santa Marta for dinner at Centro Touristico. What a great place—bar, restaurant, and community pool, and a few guest rooms for visitors and travelers. The food was good, but the margaritas made with Blue Curacao were outstanding.  As we sat in the open-air terrace, we met two expats, Porter and his wife Jennie, from Cheyenne Wyoming. They are friends of Peter’s and guessed that we might also know him.

Meeting people here is going to be easy. The expat community is close and friendly. But understanding the Ticos will be a challenge.

Friday Day 11

Movie night at the Altos de Antigua swimming pool was our first social event in Costa Rica. We met several expat residents and watched the “Best Exotic Marigold Hotel”.

The Real Best Exotic Marigold Hotel

Funny how appropriate that movie seemed to be—race relations, care for the elderly, medical tourism, bigotry—it hit many of the themes you find in an expat community living in a foreign land  and this group loved it. As the new kids on the block we felt right at home among this group of North Americans—Canadians, as well as a few Indians and Africans mixed in for good measure.

Experiencing the different cultures of Costa Rica is one of the reasons we are here.

Thursday Day 10

Nothing tests our resolve quite like flying, creeping, crawly, burrowing insects and the next morning we were tested to the max. It was the Invasion of the Army Ants, first thing in the morning, marching across our terrace and under the screen door and into our casa.  Hundreds of ants—thousands, maybe even tens of thousands and for nearly an hour we were both busy stomping, swatting, spraying, and defending our turf against the invading hoards. It was "Leiningen Versus the Ants" all over again.

To get away from the resultant carnage we drove into Alajuela to trade our rental car with Wild Rides for something less expensive. Our Nissan X-Trail had served its purpose by getting us and our luggage to Puriscal in one piece but now we didn’t need something so large, and we wanted to save some money. Our “new” vehicle was a ten-year old Hyundai Tucson 4x4 with a 5-speed stick. It was okay but back home this would kindly be referred to as a POJ. It reinforced my decision NOT to pursue a used car purchase in Costa Rica—if this car was any indication of what we might get in a used car.

While in Alajuela we went shopping at Wal-Mart which was pretty much what you would expect in the States. However, parking at stores like Wal-Mart, Maxi Pali, or Price Smart, is a prized commodity. At this Wal-Mart there was covered parking on the first level, with the store above, and there was surface parking in front. Armed guards patrolled the grounds and gave grave looks to anyone who appeared to be using their parking space for purposes other than shopping at their store.

People often used these parking lots to drop their cars and then take a taxi into San Jose for the day. Driving inside the San Jose beltway is controlled by your vehicles license number—the last digits of your tag determine when you can drive in the central business district. It is your turn to not be able to go on or the inside of the beltway from 6:30 am – 7:00 pm from Monday to Friday.

Your Tag Day is determined by the last number of your tag.

1-2 Monday, 3-4 Tuesday, 5-6 Wednesday, 7-8 Thursday, 9-0 Friday

I’ve heard how crazy it is to drive in San Jose and have resolved NOT to experience that hassle unless on a weekend—or not at all.

After our Wal-Mart run, we had lunch at La Tereza in Atenas where we met Rosie and Chris—two other expats who had relocated from Washington State. They are friends by way of Dallas’ sister in San Francisco and we were interested in meeting up and hearing about their experiences. Currently, they live in Atenas and had decided to settle there so they will be leasing a place in Uvita in the Southern Pacific area, near the beach during the construction of their home in Atenas.

Both locations are places we have discussed for long-term living if Puriscal doesn’t work out.

Wednesday Day 9

We took a day for site-seeing and went on a wild ride to Jaco, just 38 miles south of our expat enclave but a two-hour drive on dusty dirt roads through the mountains to the Pacific.

On our first visit we stayed near Jaco at Playa Hermosa where we discovered a great out-of-the-way lunch stop—La Patio. A quiet little corner restaurant a block off the beach, La Patio had great fish tacos as well as a cold beer and wine selection and a friendly wait staff. 

But alas, La Patio didn’t survive. We found it closed for business, its tables and chairs sat empty, waiting for customers which it seems rarely came.

Our drive through the mountains was full of memorable sites and places; La Cangreja National Park, and a working chocolate plantation La Iguana, but the one that really stood out was in the middle of nowhere where a small shack with a red door and sign which said AA–Alcoholics Anonymous stood complete with a listing of their meeting times.

We marveled that there was much interest in AA especially in this desolate place—but even in Costa Rica alcoholics are getting their chips.

After lunch at another favorite beach spot from a previous trip, The Backyard Grill—we headed home by another way.

Tuesday Day 8

I had chosen to take our Subaru to Costa Rica with us and have it nationalized rather than selling it in the States and taking a chance on buying a used car in Costa Rica. Our car is a 2005 Outback with over 200,000 miles but it has All-Wheel-Drive and has been dependable and well maintained its whole life. I figured if it has mechanical issues in its future at least I’m familiar with its past and stand a better chance keeping it running than a car I find in Costa Rica.

I was forewarned that the market for used vehicles had been swamped with cars that survived recent hurricanes and floods in the States and that’s one concern I don’t want to have.

All trucks and cars brought into to Costa Rica are levied an import tax of 50-60% of the assigned value of the vehicle. The assigned or taxable value is determined by Costa Rican Customs Direccion General de Aduanas and bears no relation to the Kelly Blue Book or any other valuation you might expect—even an invoice. 

New imports and nationalized foreign cars both bear this import tax so it becomes a matter of what the pocket-book can afford.

Our shipping agent, Shipping Costa Rica, promised to handle the entire transaction for us—soup-to-nuts. They picked up the Subaru at our home in Jacksonville a day or two after we left for Costa Rica and are to deliver it to us complete with title, safety inspection, insurance, and import taxes paid.

The today the Subaru is in Miami awaiting shipment to Puerto Limon—to arrive on February 6^th. I was told it could be ten days before the car is nationalized and ready to drive. I am expecting it will be closer to March before we have the car. This entire transaction will cost close to ten-thousand dollars.

It remains to be seen if this was a wise decision or a blunder.

Monday Day 7

We have been trying to get our cats acquainted with the new area and the new living arrangements. Today, Black Cat (Will) decided to take matters into her own paws. She went outside and proceeded to scale a thirty-foot-tall embankment behind our casa.

It looked like she was going to make a move into the jungle she found at the top of the wall and I had visions of her running off with a tribe of native Costa Rican monkeys that live in the neighboring jungles. I imagined she would fit right in with their jungle calls and monkey-shenanigans, but it was not to be. She returned faithfully to the casa and slept the rest of the day away,

Heading back home after a quick trip to Puriscal and the Maxi Pali we stopped at Super Yigi, a Chinese market alleged to be well stocked with beer, wine, and liquor. We were in search of greater variety of vino than Maxi Pali’s selection—both options were lacking but I did spy a bottle of Smirnoff in the tall display rack behind the counter.

The cashier was a Chinese woman and talking with the Chinese cashier in a Spanish market trying to buy Vodka was challenging—I began the transaction by asking—

How much is the vodka?

Ok, you speak Spanish. (It wasn’t a question so much as a command.)

No, I don’t. Do you speak English? I asked.  

No. I speak Spanish.

The was the extent of her Ingles.  

We managed to complete the transaction; a bottle of vodka and a baggie of homemade pastries for ₡8,000 or about $14.00.

Sunday Day 6

We had a restless night waking up several times to unexplained noises. You can expect that in a new environment. Your mind turns every strange noise into invading vermin, every click into a prowler opening a door, every wind gust into cyclonic gales.

We are beyond being near to our neighbors. There is a village nearby, a tobacco farm and cigar producer, and many cows, so I woke up feeling great and reasonably refreshed.

Black Cat (Will) is our feral cat we brought from home to Central America. She has so much personality that we couldn’t leave her behind—even though all our neighbors swore they would take care of her if only we would leave her home. 

I thought we would have a hard time keeping Will with us since she was used to living in the great outdoors. I think that she is intimidated by Jungle Cat, but she has a plan. She has lived on her own for so long no cat is going to get the best of her.

Saturday Day 5

Costa Rica is a tiny Central American nation north of Panama and south of Nicaragua. It’s conveniently located about 2-1/2 hours flying time from the South Florida airports and is in the Central Standard time zone.  Home to around five-million people, Costa Rica is about the size of West Virginia. About 80% of the population live in urban areas such as San Jose (333,000). The San Jose metropolitan area's population is over two-million people.

Google.com

The sun comes early near the equator where Costa Rica is located. By 6:00 am it has risen over the mountains in the east and by 9:00 am the temperature is climbing quickly. That said, the climate is still quite pleasant. At 3,000 feet elevation and 10 degrees North of the equator year-round averages are between 67-82 F. which is just about perfect for anyone—especially Floridian expats.

We took an early morning walk in Altos de Antigua, the gated community where we live.  It was only a half-hour walk but it was a steep climb half of the way---the way back! Morning walks will be nice, but we will need to be out and about early to avoid the heat, which is not that bad for Floridians—the difference between 70s and 80s. Maybe an early and a late walk will do the trick. 

We rise with the sun at about 5:30 or 6:00 am. It is cool at that time of day—and by nine o’clock the temperatures are climbing through the 70s to a day’s high of 80 degrees by noon. Very pleasant unless you happen to be hiking in the Costa Rican mountains—or up our street.

We spent most of the today relaxing and hanging out on the patio and taking in the awesome views. And even though our pantry had a weeks’ worth of food we still didn’t cook a real meal today. Snacks and the remains of the roast chicken we bought at the Maxi Pali was plenty.

Tonight someone shot-off a big display of fireworks just above our casa. There were aerial boomers that scared the devil out of the pets. It lasted about fifteen minutes—which was plenty! 

Must have been some unknown Costa Rican holiday.

Friday Day 4

Today we made a provision run to the Maxi Pali in Puriscal. We needed everything—the cupboard was bare. Groceries, household supplies, wine and beer and vodka; but maybe most importantly, we needed pet food and litter boxes for our menagerie of animals. Daphne is okay but the cats can get surly when they miss a meal or their facilities after the meal.

Damaged Santiago Apostle Church and Maxi Pali in Puriscal

We drove thirty minutes back to Puriscal. Maxi Pali is the Wal Mart of Costa Rica. There are Maxi Pali’s and regular Pali’s both owned by Wal Mart. They are mostly a grocery store, but they have a little of everything; school supplies, camping gear, bicycles, and bulk items like flour, sugar, and corn.

When you have a grocery list with specific items, Maxi Pali probably won’t have what you really want. They have salsa but not Pace. We found syrup but not pancake mix, and we bought the one and only jar of peanut butter, but they had cell phones and large screen televisions and tires.

Paying for groceries with a U.S. bank’s debit card provides a good exchange rate—Colons to dollars—but you may have to pay an International Exchange Fee. (3% at our bank; Wells Fargo.) Credit cards may not have an International Transaction fee, but Wells Fargo and most other banks just see the fee as another way to make some money. My advice, shop for the best deal and be prepared to use a MasterCard or Visa to pay for groceries.

Even though we had somewhat caught up on our sleep we hadn’t eaten a good meal since the Chick-Filet that Lana had brought us when we missed our flight in Jax three days ago on Tuesday!  We made roasted chicken from the Maxi Pali our meal—along with a vodka screwdriver, an Imperial cerveza, some homemade toaster-oven nachos and a late-night bottle of Clos Cabernet from Chile. 

Sleep came easy that night.

Thursday Day 3

Nirvana Apartments  Alajuela, Costa Rica

We awoke early after a good night’s sleep in Alajuela, Costa Rica!

Everyone was happy to be out of their cages—even the humans—and the cats began to hiss at each other which continues to this day. Our black cat is Will—a converted feral cat who had lived on our front porch for several years. Essie is our indoor cat who has always been interested in but not welcoming of Will. We expected some issues with those two. Daphne is our aging black lab and is fine with both cats but is easily intimidated. Daphne tries to be the peacemaker—which is NOT a reference to the Colt Revolver.

Our rental car was delivered by Wild Rides—a car rental company we have used several times— we loaded up in the narrow alleyway outside the Nirvana and hit the road by 11:30 am. Our luggage containing our remaining earthly possessions was stuffed in the back and on the top of our Nissan Tracker, held in place by straps and bungees. I said a silent prayer that the roof-rack would stay in place. I had this mental picture of our stuff careening down some mountainside securely bound to the roof-rack which was not so securely bound to the luggage rack of the Nissan.

View from our new home
in Puriscal

We had been to Puriscal twice before and thought we knew the way—following the usually dependable “Waze” navigation app on our cell phones. But in the mountains of Puriscal “Waze” can be misleading and unless you download the maps for your area to your phone when the signal drops so do your navigational directions. After some missed turns on a remarkably long thirty-mile trip, we arrived at last at our new home—Altos de Antigua, La Palma Puriscal, San Jose, Costa Rica!

Every visitor should be greeted by a welcoming party, and we were. First was Brian, an original resident and developer of Antigua. Brian represented the owner of our casa and the development of Alto de Antigua. The second was “Jungle Cat”, a brown stripped tabby who was to become a de facto new member of our animal kingdom. Jungle Cat had been living on our patio and was happy to see us—he was VERY hungry—Welcome to Costa Rica, your new home—now feed me!

Wednesday Day 2

Daphne boards the plan in Jax

After being rebooked next day on American’s flight to Costa Rica through Miami at 3:30 pm, we were processed, paid fifteen-hundred dollars for excess baggage, screened by TIA, and finally seated—ready to travel!

A kind lady seated in the row in front noticed we were carrying cat kennels and remarked that she had seen the cargo handlers loading a large dog and had taken pictures in case they didn’t treat the dog well (they did). When we said the dog was ours as well, she shared the pictures with us. Daphne’s first plane ride, documented.

On this new flight, our arrival time in Costa Rica was late—after dark—and we didn’t want to travel the hour and a half it would take for us to get from San Jose (Alajuela), Costa Rica to our new home in the mountains of Puriscal so we had booked a room for the five of us at the Nirvana Apartments near the airport. 

Dallas and cats transfer in Miami

When we landed, we were prepared for a lengthy wait to clear customs with three animals and our excessive luggage, but we breezed right through with the help of one of the ever-present porters at baggage claim. Outside the airport Eric from the Nirvana  picked us up, lashed the baggage on the roof, and packed us all into his Nissan and off we went for the first sleep in two days! 

As I was giving our porter a generous tip for his help, he told me in his first attempt at Ingles—I like dog. I would keep for you.

Tuesday Day 1

We were supposed to depart Jax for our new home in Costa Rica today. Our house was under contract, our new hookup to city water was complete replacing the well water which we had used for the ten years we owned and lived in our home in the Jacksonville suburbs. Our animals had their papers in order to “immigrate” to Costa Rica, we had sold most of our possessions on various web and social network sites and what was not sold—our treasures and heirlooms, artwork, pictures, our baby grand—were stashed into a tiny 5x7 foot storage locker. It was sort of a lifeline which we could use if things did nor go as planned and we needed to return to the States and bail on our plan to retire in Central America.

The phrase “supposed to” serves as a premonition that things did not go exactly as planned. We had planned well and checked off all our to-do items. Many times, had we rehearsed in our minds what was to happen on that day of departure.

Our flight was to depart at 6:00 am. on American Airlines out of Jacksonville International Airport. Lana our sweet Russian neighbor had been so helpful in so many ways volunteered (insisted) on taking us to the airport at the ungodly hour of 3:30 am. But her Lexus was not large enough to handle our baggage and the large dog kennel for Daphne our black Lab. We had eleven oversized pieces of luggage which we planned to check on the flight and pay the excess baggage fees. It was the day before when we discovered that even though our items would probably fit on the plane they wouldn’t fit in a Lexus SUV. In hindsight we should probably have researched this ahead of time but it wasn’t like we had a lot of time available for such things.

As luck would have it, our daughter and son-in-law, Emily and Dru, offered to drive us—well, Dru offered—then he came up with the idea of loaning us his crew-cab pickup truck which would easily fit a dog and her kennel, two cats, and eleven pieces of luggage—and us. A wonderful solution to an unforeseen, last-minute problem.

Our last night at home was a miserable night full of last-minute packing and sorting and ditching personal items and long-lost treasures. At 2:00 am we hadn’t gotten a single minute of sleep and we were hours away from finishing the final sort and tossing of personal effects. We each took time for a last shower at the old homestead and then it was 3:00 am! Scrambling to get it together, we raced through the house time and again looking into corners that hadn’t been cleared out yet. Still not yet finished, we gathered up the animals, loaded the borrowed truck, and started to the airport knowing that we would not make the four o’clock, two-hour check-in deadline for international flights, but willing to faithfully make the effort. We already felt as if we had been traveling for days.

Arriving at the ticket counter we were told that the airline approved kennel we had purchased from PetSmart was one inch too tall for the airplane that we were to take to Dallas and beyond! Two hours later we were sent home with a reservation for the next day—pending our obtaining a new kennel that fit the door opening on an American Airlines 737.

It is about here we should talk about the plan Dru had for getting his truck back from us after we had left JAX for Dallas and San Jose, CR. We were to park the truck in the terminal parking lot closest to the terminal and lock the key inside. As I was doing this, I mused to myself—gee I hope we get on this flight.

It was five-thirty in the morning when I called Dru from the airport. Knowing he wasn’t, I said—Sorry to call at this hour, I hope you were awake.

The rest of this day and half of tomorrow were spent finishing the chores we left undone at 3:30 this morning and returning to PetSmart to buy a smaller-large dog kennel. The big one we donated to a friend for use as an animal rescue transport. As I dropped the kennel off at her house, I thought to myself—that was a huge kennel. What kind of airplane would accommodate such a palace?

Escape to Pura Vida

December 29^th was my last Sunday to celebrate Holy Eucharist at St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church in Jacksonville, Florida.

I had fully expected to serve the parish until my 70 ^th birthday but once I passed that magical day of full retirement age it was harder and harder to answer the bell every Sunday morning, not to mention perform all the routine chores and decisions that are required of a solo clergy person in parish life. I was surrounded by smart and able-bodied staff and volunteers who love the church and supported their pastor in many wonderful ways. This was never about Jesus, God, or the Church but that no one lives forever and, in the end—in that final hour—no person ever has wished that they could have spent a little more time in the office. After finishing things up i the parish, a few pastoral situations, and a few baptisms, the last day of service came and went and Dallas and I were contemplating Pura Vida in Costa Ricaa

We both ended our careers on the last day of the year 2019 and moved our household to Costa Rica. What follows is a diary or blog about our experiences during this journey. I am writing in near real-time so that my memories are fresh and clear with the hope that you who read and follow this adventure will feel empowered to make the similar decision—before it’s too late!

Much of what I write will be about experiences we went through on this adventure. I hope to be able to offer insight which might be helpful to someone considering a similar journey. I want to be encouraging of the hopes and dreams you might have but not sugar-coat the ups and downs, the ‘goods’ and ‘bads’, the smart decisions we made and the knuckle-headed mistakes as well.

If all that we accomplish is to entertain you with our story of a couple nomads who left it all behind in search of a world full of beauty, peace, and love, that will be enough. How we did it, and what we might do differently—this is the story of our Great Escape to Pura Vida.