The Wild Bus Chase OR My Faith in Humanity OR So this is why you’re supposed to carry US$100 hidden in your bag so that you forget about it until that crucial moment when you’re really grateful you have it

I apologize for how long this post is, but it was a long adventure.  I really need to map this all out, but I haven’t done that yet so words will have to suffice.  Oh, and keep in mind that this happened almost entirely in Spanish.

Also, one quick note about the national park: When planning what you will do each day, make sure you remember somewhat early on Sunday that your plans to go on Monday morning before you leave will not work because Manuel Antonio National Park is closed on Mondays.  We forgot until after the park had already closed on Sunday.  Oops.

Well, come Monday afternoon, and it was time to leave Manuel Antonio and head back to San Jose so that my friend could fly back home today.  We went to the bus station earlier in the day to make sure we had tickets like we were told, hung out at the hotel a bit, my friend bought some souvenirs in the gift shop (I just now saw all the same stuff at a little market in San Jose), and then we headed back to Quepos to catch our 5:00 bus.  We got there around 4:30 and it was raining, so we sat down on some benches that were covered and in a spot where we could see all the buses.  Or so we thought.  Around 5:25 we started getting a little nervous.  Yes, the bus was coming from Manuel Antonio so it wasn’t supposed to be there exactly at 5, but this felt a little late.  We asked around and our fears were confirmed: We had missed our bus, which was the last bus from Quepos to San Jose of the day.

The bus driver, his assistant, and one of his passengers who had confirmed that our bus had simply passed through and somehow we didn’t see it were very helpful.  They told us that if we got on that bus, it would take us to Puntarenas where we could catch a bus at 9 that would take us to San Jose.  If you look at a map, this is a very roundabout way to get from Quepos to San Jose, but we decided it would be much better to be in San Jose Monday night.  We got on the bus.

Three hours later, we pull up to a very closed-looking bus station at about 8:40, with only three passengers on the bus.  The other lady just needed a taxi to go a few blocks, but we needed to get to San Jose and the station looked deserted.  The driver’s assistant wandered around, talking to people that I never saw and making phone calls, and learned that there had been an accident on the freeway from Puntarenas to San Jose and that the bus we needed had been canceled.

Continuing to be super nice and helpful (I mean how should they have known our bus would be canceled due to an accident on a freeway their route doesn’t use?) the bus driver and his assistant told us that there is a bus that goes from Liberia to San Jose, that would pass the Restaurante Tavares in Caldera around 10.  Since it was only 9 and they said that a taxi ride there would only take about half an hour, giving us time to grab some quick food and use the bathrooms before getting on another bus, we decided to head to Caldera.  They called us a cab, explained our situation to him, and we were on our way.  Well, almost.  When we mentioned that we might need a bit more cash to pay him, he turned around to take us to an ATM (or ATH here) rather than find one by our destination.  I guess taxi drivers want to know you have the money before they make the drive.

We pulled up to the restaurant around 9:20, and proceeded to make sure we had everything figured out since our luck had been so bad.  Our driver went inside to pass on our story to a waiter there, who came out to help us make sure we understood everything.  The bus sometimes pulled into the restaurant lot (which seemed to be a truckstop), but in case it didn’t, we should wait across the street and wave it down.  It would go by between 9:45 and 10:05.  As our driver was about to leave, he stopped and warned us that this wasn’t a very safe area.  He said if anyone came up to us while we were waiting, to run back to the restaurant across the street.  This was a little worrying, but we figured we wouldn’t be waiting too long, and the restaurant really wasn’t that far.  Ready to be done with our adventure, we hurried inside, used the bathrooms (saw a cockroach), got some sandwiches hoping we weren’t about to add food poisoning to our problems, and crossed the street to wait at 9:35.

Of course, we didn’t forget our driver’s warnings, and so we stood so that we could see all around us if anyone was coming.  A little paranoid because of how our night had been going, we waited.  And waited.  9:45.  10:00.  10:15.  Oh look the restaurant is closed.  Hope nothing happens now.  And then our bus comes around the corner!  We go up to the edge of the sidewalk, waving our arms, and it passes us.  The last bus of the night passes us.  Now what?

Luckily, two waiters from the restaurant, one being the waiter who our driver had talked to earlier, were just leaving on their scooters.  The restaurant was closed, and they were the last people we could see.  There was literally nothing else in view, other than the cars and trucks going by, and some trucks parked just off the road.  They had seen the bus pass us, and so they came over to help us figure out what to do.  We decide that we don’t care how much it costs, we will just take a taxi to San Jose.  He gives me a phone number to call, and I am very happy that I set up my AT&T phone to work down here (even though it is expensive and I now have a Costa Rica phone number to use that is cheaper).  Anyway, first number I try, the lady hangs up on me when I say I need a taxi from Caldera to San Jose.  I try another number, but again they get frustrated and hang up.  The waiter asks me to try the second number again and to let him talk.  I am staring at this waiter, sitting on his scooter, asking me to give him my phone, thinking how easy it would be for him to ride off with it, and decide I don’t really have any other choice.  I give him my phone, and he talks to the taxi company for about 5 minutes.  I can hear him telling the person on the other end our entire journey, which he knows from our taxi driver, who heard it from the bus driver.  Finally, he hangs up, hands me my phone, and tells us to wait 20 minutes for Esparza cab number 39 (the number ensures that you get the legitimate cab you wanted, and not some scam cab you don’t).  He makes me repeat it over and over, and tells us very sternly, “Do not get into any other cab”, which was frankly a little hard to agree to since we were basically stranded in the middle of nowhere with no safety restaurant to go to anymore.  And then they ride away, leaving us alone in this dangerous place, with no safe zone.

I know this doesn’t exactly count as a near-death experience, but it was the most scared for my safety I have ever been.  Two travelers with all of our stuff, standing on the sidewalk by this closed truck stop, with a dark beach behind us, and no sign of anyone who could help us if something happened.  Fearfully waiting and thinking a continuous string of “Don’t panics”, watching boats slink under the nearby bridge, a couple of pairs of guys on bicycles riding past us, and finally at 10:45 we see a cab come around the corner: Esparza 39.

With a huge sigh of relief, we get in the cab and head on our way to San Jose.  We ask him how much it will cost, and he calculates around US$100.  Knowing that we don’t carry that much money around with us, we tell him that we need an ATH.  He starts to look worried, and so do we.  We remember the taxi driver who didn’t seem to want to take us to our destination if we didn’t already have his money, and the last thing we want to do is make another stop after everything that had happened.  Getting legitimately worried that our night is about to take another wrong turn, I suddenly remember the US$100 I have (well, had) in an envelope in my backpack, stashed away for emergencies.  When I tell him that I have the money, he relaxes, and we are finally, really on our way.

7 hours after missing our bus and US$100 later, we finally arrived at our hostel in San Jose, relieved that we made it all that way without anything truly terrible happening.  With a renewed sense that bad things can turn out okay, and that there really are some truly nice people in the world (except for the jerk bus driver who left us stranded in Caldera), we celebrate our safety and my friend’s last night in Costa Rica before passing out after our exhausting adventure.