Dominical Dot Biz

Part II of III
If you’re starting here, you might want to read Part I first . Click here for Part I :: Click here for Part III The next pause in my trip was to drive through Jaco.I wanted just to see it.We used to vacation in Jaco as a family, years ago, when it was a sleepy surf town.There was a bit of a buzz there that certainly was not felt in San Isidro de Perez Zeledon, where we lived, so it was a nice change of pace for us.I had heard that I wouldn’t recognize it.And this proved to be true.There are high rise hotels going in on the beach, and there are various malls and shops of every type.If what we experienced in the good ole days of Jaco was a buzz of activity, then what we’ve got there now is a full blown brass band on crack.The main drag was awash in tourists meandering about, shopping, and enjoying the hot weather that Jaco is famous for.And here is where we start about the dumb thing. (The photo there to the right is taken driving along the main drag in Jaco)

I stopped into a few shops looking for a Costa Rica map.Just a few shops, and evidently the wrong ones, cuz I couldn’t find one.So, failing in my half-hearted search, I called my son, who was already up in Samara and asked him how to get there.He said: “It’s easy.Just head north, following the signs to Liberia, until you see the sign to the Taiwan Bridge or El Puente La Amistad”.”Ok” thought I, “no problem.I can do this”.

So off I went.

Not that I have displayed any interest in editing this story to such an extent that what was a longish, carry-on sort of tale at the outset should be reduced to a gripping, fast moving adventure that leaves the reader rivetted by the anticipation of coming developments, but we here at this juncture will jump ahead to where I drive into Liberia.

I followed the directions.I know I did.The groups of signs north of Jaco all had one for Liberia.Easy.So, I assiduously examined them all for that one that would direct me to the bridge.

As I drove into Liberia, I thought that maybe I had gone too far.Fact is, I was enjoying the drive very much.My life as a realtor in the Dominical / Uvita / San Isidro area is one of lots of activity.I love it.I spend most of my life in what have to be some of the Earth’s most beautiful terrain.I see waterfall, toucans, monkeys, spiders, misty ocean views throughout the majority of my days spent in the mundane pursuit of supporting myself and family.There is also my office life which is one of refreshing harmony.Francine my friend and secretary.Rod, my associate, listing agent, and friend. Scott who is our resident tech guy and affiliate marketing expert, and friend.Then there is the steady flow of property sellers, and clients that stop in throughout the course of a normal day in the office.Going to work is for me, a genuine pleasure.

However, when I get a bit of time to myself, you know, the kind where you know that there is not going to be any sort of a deviating influence to the present path that my thoughts are moving along, no interruption to the contented browsing of the contents of my own skull and heart; I enjoy this time. Solitude would be the name for it.Oh, and then there are those amazing podcasts.If you, dear reader, don’t yet know about podcasts, and have an iPod, find out about these things, especially if you are planning to make a long drive longer by getting lost any time soon.

I called my son.“I’m in Liberia” said I. “What???!!!” said he.I had evidently overshot the turn. I had an hour and a half drive yet ahead of me, and the graduation proceedings were to begin in an hour and a half.Off I went, deciding to break the number one rule of driving safely in Costa Rica, I drove fast.It was fine actually since the road was very straight and rivaled the quality and width of that wonderful highway down south in our neck of the woods.

About 5 minutes of making great time, driving at a speed that would have no doubt gotten me to the graduation with 7 or 8 minutes to spare, I came to a screeching halt.There was some construction going on.I waited for an hour and a half with what ended up being somewhere around a hundred other people, sitting parked, in their cars, on that road.

I drove into Samara some time after the graduation ceremony, so I had missed it. But the banquet was to go on into the night. I felt more determined than ever to get there.Once in Samara I called Neil (my son) again and got directions on how to get to the resort.Samara is way out there.Well, once you get to Samara, you drive further out to an island, or point, or something like that, that is yet more remote.I was to drive to a sign that someone had spray painted a red arrow on, and follow that arrow.I did.Then when I got to the river, I was to cross and continue on another 6 kilometers. And here is where it gets really dumb.

The night was black, aided only by a fingernail moon and the Milky Way’s myriad stars.I arrived at the river’s edge and noted that this was indeed a “river” as opposed to what that word can sometimes designate here in Costa Rica, a “stream”.My headlights died about halfway across and the far bank was nothing more than a faint silhouette in the distance. The water was murky so there was no bottom to be seen. Hmmmm.Looks dangerous. In my determined state, I decided to call my son to have him describe to me the route to take to cross the river.Hoping to hear something like, “you enter the river and veer to the left curving gradually to the right where you’ll find the road again coming out of the far bank”.No signal on the cell phone. Hmmmm… the whole graduation procession must have crossed this river so it must be crossable… Blinded by my resolved determination to get to my daughter’s graduation, I drove into the river.

Well, as you might expect, I drove, not on a level plain, through the river.I instead drove down into the water, which promptly came up over the hood, diffusing the headlights as though they were those of a submarine.All four wheels continued to turn and some water reached as far as the windshield.Forward progress was slow going and I heard myself saying “oh please oh please oh please oh please”.There was a moment of a weightless floating sensation where I knew that I had lost the battle and would end up; best case scenario, floating down to the ocean but continue on alive, just needing a new car.Or, worst case scenario, dead, in which case the loss of my present car and the need to buy a new one wouldn’t bother me near as much as it would in the best case scenario, but I was still hoping to have those concerns.

My tires found purchase on the gravel river bottom and I continued ahead, trying with all my will to not gun the motor, (which for some inexplicable continued to run), thereby effectively nullifying any slight traction that I might currently be enjoying: the forward motion continued, until I bumped into the far bank, no exit in site, but my motor still running, my headlights pointing up to the bank askew and my muffler under the water making blub blub blub sounds.I sat there for a little while and realized that I was on the other side of what I now regard as “the scariest moment of my life”. I suspected that I might be in some sort of shock or something.The emotion of fear had been intense.I could feel the residue of whatever chemicals we release in such a situation still present in my veins.So I sat for a little while and began to enjoy the fact that I was still alive, and that my car was still running.

For the gripping conclusion Click here for Part III

This entry was posted on Tuesday, January 15th, 2008 at 11:35 pm and is filed under History, Lifestyle, Mental Meanderings. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.