wanderlust (n): the strong, innate desire to rove or travel about: caballo means horse

Its been almost a week. I think as I find myself in the second half of my time here, and the time I have only dwindling, I have allotted less and less time for this blog, so many apologies.

After my post last weekend, I headed off to Puerto Viejo, a beach only a few miles from the Panama border. I didn’t make it over due to the fact that one, I you have to pay $40 for a visa, and two, I didn’t have a passport with me with which to obtain that visa. So perhaps another day I’ll return to get another stamp in my passport.

Puerto Viejo was simply beautiful. I had never swum (swam, swimmed?) in the Caribbean Ocean, so that was a new first to add to the list. It’s a town with a lot of Caribbean influence, giving it color and flavor not seen up in the farmland where I spend most of my days. The town itself is quite touristy and I found myself wanting to ask every person if they spoke English and where they were from and what they were doing here. I often find I have this slight shell schocked problem when I leave my town where I am only the gringa, and enter a tourist location found in every guide book.

To put a little distance between ourselves and the giant tourist population we hopped on some bikes (very quaint looking but not the most agile or functional) and headed to a beach in the next town over that has no public transportation leading to it. We found a secluded, beautiful beach and jumped in the ocean. Unfortunately our trip was cut a bit short by the need to make the 5 hour trip back to San Jose that day as well, but it was still thoroughly enjoyed. I have concluded I really, really like water. And swimming in it. The Caribbean Ocean was an ideal place to swim like a sea otter, incase that is what you look for in a large body of water as I often do. We also took this opportunity to take a whole bunch of “Conistonian’s around the world!” photos, which is always necessary when camp people are together.

Da beach!

Incase you forgot what my feet look like. I don't think I've posted pictures of them.

The truffula tree of Puerto Viejo.

Postcard life.

I arrived home to Venecia on Saturday with the whole weekend still ahead of me. Expo Venecia was in it’s final weekend and I planned to take advantage of all of it. To say the least, it was an experience. Saturday night included all things carnival like. Carnivals seem to have some universal components; cotton candy, fried food, random games to win large stuffed animals, yucky bathrooms, and a prime location for people watching. And in true farm town spirit there was a live stock show, and many a cowboy all decked out in the proper attire. This carnival also included lots of dancing with all the locals late into Saturday night. Unfortunately my camera did not come out for the celebration so I lack pictures in that department. However, the festivities were not over. On Sunday was the closing parade. Everyone in town, starting at around eleven started lining outside their houses with beers and picnics to wait for the eventual arrival of the parade through the town center.

Our picnic lunch (My cousins, aunt and uncle who live next door)

Eventually a good portion of the neighbors all moved to utilize our overhang due to the occasional drizzle.

It was planned for around noon, so of course it started around almost two. But once it was underway it was completely worth the wait.

Just strolling down Main Street.

Contestants of Miss Venecia

A family friend also put me atop his horse so I became the guest of honor for a brief while in the parade, trying my best to look a little bit like I knew what I was doing (I didn’t). However it definitely is in the top of my list of once in a lifetime’s from this trip. Here is when the whole fiasco was just beginning.