My Prima, Brookie, and I drove to Porto Jimenez down the Pacific coast to the Osa Peninsula where we stayed in a damp hotel on the water overlooking this little view of a dock and then part of the Gulfo Dulce. We could have taken a ferry across the Gulfo but decided to catch a collectivo down to the bitter end of the road in Carate.
The collectivo turned out to be a truck with two benches in it, and it picked passengers up along the way, so it was crowded with SRO folks swaying and ji
ggling over the bumpy, pot-holed, dirt roads. The journey seemed endless as we crossed over rushing rivers and swirling streams, but we stopped for coffee towards the end; all piled out for a stretch and a breath of f
resh air. But once 
we arrived in Carate, our journey had really just begun...
ggling over the bumpy, pot-holed, dirt roads. The journey seemed endless as we crossed over rushing rivers and swirling streams, but we stopped for coffee towards the end; all piled out for a stretch and a breath of f
resh air. But once 
we arrived in Carate, our journey had really just begun...
No comments:
Post a Comment