i don't know why, but from the minute i entered this city i felt something special about it. maybe it was the river that showed itself to me as i drove through the main street, or all the beautiful, beautiful buildings that were decorating the congested traffic. or maybe all the bicycles i saw people riding around or, maybe, maybe, the ridiculous amount of beautiful women allowed to wander the streets just like that, without realizing the safety hazard this might entail.
the city is beautiful, and the old city is gorgeous. there are many students around, and they seem to be quite happy to bath in the sun, ride their bikes and occasionally attend a class. you can rent a bike with one of those bike renting machines that are spread around the city, and you are good to go.
I wandered around and used the magical wifi and iphone to find a gorgeous hostel in a small little side street. it is a small building with colorful glass windows and greenery all over the place, and a round and narrow staircase is decorating its circumference. Breakfast is served on the roof, where you can actually see parts of the city and enjoy the sun... gorgeous!
so it was definitely one of those town you wish you can stay longer, but after a couple of nights it was time to move on to the next city, on my way to barcelona
Saturday, May 22, 2010
The country of semen. No, just kidding. The country of seamen
it's kind of hard to write a post about something that happened a few months ago. I wasn't quite in the mood for writing. still aren't, probably, but here i am.
the first thing that struck me when i saw lisbon from the air is how pretty it is. i was literally excited to see green stuff, and to know that the not too far away, just a few hours, actually, is my home.
the first thing that struck me when i landed was how small and not busy the biggest airport in the country was.
Portugal is, i think, a faded version of what used to be Portugal. is small, it's old, it's old-fashioned, and there isn't much renewing about it. it can be charming, but at the same time very sad. in european standards, this country is way behind. people are catholic, conservative, and don't like strangers.
in the airport i got a little black car and started driving around. at first i checked sintra, and then decided to drive all the way to the south. check out the beaches, why not.
I reached albufera, and was excited to finally touch the Mediterranean again, but then i realized, it's actually the atlantic. portugal actually doesn't have any Mediterranean beaches, which could explain the freezing cold waters and the relatively good waves.
so i kept going to sevilla, waiting to see what i will come up with
the first thing that struck me when i saw lisbon from the air is how pretty it is. i was literally excited to see green stuff, and to know that the not too far away, just a few hours, actually, is my home.
the first thing that struck me when i landed was how small and not busy the biggest airport in the country was.
Portugal is, i think, a faded version of what used to be Portugal. is small, it's old, it's old-fashioned, and there isn't much renewing about it. it can be charming, but at the same time very sad. in european standards, this country is way behind. people are catholic, conservative, and don't like strangers.
in the airport i got a little black car and started driving around. at first i checked sintra, and then decided to drive all the way to the south. check out the beaches, why not.
I reached albufera, and was excited to finally touch the Mediterranean again, but then i realized, it's actually the atlantic. portugal actually doesn't have any Mediterranean beaches, which could explain the freezing cold waters and the relatively good waves.
so i kept going to sevilla, waiting to see what i will come up with
Jose Jorge (aka JJ by his friends, which now includes myself) and his wife Marriella love Costa Rica. They were born here, in a small town an hour off of San Jose. Marilella is a redhead and everybody thinks she is a Gringa. She likes it, but not when she goes to the market. Starbucks loves this place, they get thec ir coffee there. Their best coffee, anyway. “there is elections now, and we are depressed”, he explains. We have ten candidates, but I don’t like anyone. They are all going to make a deal with America. Again”, he closes his eyes, “the president is not elected by Costa Ricans”. Apparently there is a thing called CAFTA, Central American Free Trade Agreement, and he is not very happy about it. “The first thing on the CAFTA agreement is sugar. And guess who owns the biggest sugar factory in Costa Rica”. “Your president?”. “exactly. You see, there is a lot of corruption here”. His wife is a lawyer and he works in Fedex. “it’s a very good job, I am making 600 dollars every month”. With a minimum salary of $200 (or something like that), I agree. He went on telling me about education, politics, economy, and his life. That is a very Costa Rican thing, They just don’t mind talking to you, about whatever, if you just ask. They are friendly, talkative, smiling, and polite. My impression, anyways. I probably would be too, if I lived in this little piece of heaven.
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Justine is for but can already tie his shoes. He is blonde, and his mom is a mulato. I didn’t ask any questions. He is teaching me Spanish on the way to Santa Teresa, and it’s working. “Look, I have no eyebrows”, he tells me in Spanish. I run my thumb where his eyebrows are supposed to be, thinking that they are just blonde and that’s why I cant see them. He was right, no eyebrows.
“ you are special”, I explain, and he likes my explanation. “you are special, too”, he says, with his mom and grandmother going through a long “ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh”. He is a lucky kid. He has a mom that takes care of him, and three uncles that will kick the crap out of you if you mess with him. He is pretty bright, too. “Where is your home?”, he asks me, and I say that my home is in Israel, but I live in texas. He looks at me for a few seconds, processing the information, and the difference between “home” and “living”, and eventually smiles – “my home is in my house”. I know. I say goodbye as I get off the bus in Cobano, catching another bus. I wonder what it’s like to raise a kid in this place. I actually don’t think it’s that bad, if you have your priorities right.
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Tabacon is a freak of nature. It pours hot waters coming of of the middle of the ground, heated by a volcano, and flushing lava rocks on it’s way. The streams there can drop you on your feet if you’re not careful, which is why you have to hold on to some lava rocks as your back is washed with this marvelously warm stream of water. The place feels like a jungle, and it’s not that hard to fake, because it practically is. As you walk from stream to stream, you find yourself walking between strange trees and plants. “look!”, my friend comments on a lizard walking on the water. And it is indeed a lizard. It has a tail, a mouth, but like the lord himself, it walks on the steaming lava waters instead of around it, or in it, or something. That didn’t surprise me one bit, as this is the true land of enchantment.
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The Bus ride from Santa Teresa to Cobano is a pretty one. Costa rica’s hills and green are revealed in front of your eyes. The ocean adds its charm, and the clear sky completes the picture. The cows are mostly white, lean, and randomly herding the grass. Every now and then a sign says “se vendi”, meaning a piece of land is for sale. And who wouldn’t want to buy a little piece of heaven? (blog not continued)
*****************************************************************************
Justine is for but can already tie his shoes. He is blonde, and his mom is a mulato. I didn’t ask any questions. He is teaching me Spanish on the way to Santa Teresa, and it’s working. “Look, I have no eyebrows”, he tells me in Spanish. I run my thumb where his eyebrows are supposed to be, thinking that they are just blonde and that’s why I cant see them. He was right, no eyebrows.
“ you are special”, I explain, and he likes my explanation. “you are special, too”, he says, with his mom and grandmother going through a long “ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh”. He is a lucky kid. He has a mom that takes care of him, and three uncles that will kick the crap out of you if you mess with him. He is pretty bright, too. “Where is your home?”, he asks me, and I say that my home is in Israel, but I live in texas. He looks at me for a few seconds, processing the information, and the difference between “home” and “living”, and eventually smiles – “my home is in my house”. I know. I say goodbye as I get off the bus in Cobano, catching another bus. I wonder what it’s like to raise a kid in this place. I actually don’t think it’s that bad, if you have your priorities right.
******************************************************************************
Tabacon is a freak of nature. It pours hot waters coming of of the middle of the ground, heated by a volcano, and flushing lava rocks on it’s way. The streams there can drop you on your feet if you’re not careful, which is why you have to hold on to some lava rocks as your back is washed with this marvelously warm stream of water. The place feels like a jungle, and it’s not that hard to fake, because it practically is. As you walk from stream to stream, you find yourself walking between strange trees and plants. “look!”, my friend comments on a lizard walking on the water. And it is indeed a lizard. It has a tail, a mouth, but like the lord himself, it walks on the steaming lava waters instead of around it, or in it, or something. That didn’t surprise me one bit, as this is the true land of enchantment.
**************************************************************************
The Bus ride from Santa Teresa to Cobano is a pretty one. Costa rica’s hills and green are revealed in front of your eyes. The ocean adds its charm, and the clear sky completes the picture. The cows are mostly white, lean, and randomly herding the grass. Every now and then a sign says “se vendi”, meaning a piece of land is for sale. And who wouldn’t want to buy a little piece of heaven? (blog not continued)
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