Mom Says I’m Running Away

Day: 137

After a restless night of tossing and turning (kind of an uncomfortable bed) I finally rolled out of bed around eight-thirty. Within minutes my roommate, Jeremy came in and asked “You want to go upstairs and get some breakfast?”

“Sure.” I replied, “Just give me a sec to brush my teeth.”

“Ok. I’ll be up there.”

I headed down the hall to take a piss and brushed my teeth, then went upstair to find Jeremy who was on the patio with Mike and a German named Johanas who I had meant last night. We all ordered and got to talking, I was still trying to figure out what to do today, Mike and Jeremy had to get on a airport shuttle in an hour and Johanas was heading to Turrialba for a supposed festival with bull fighting. The bull fighting sounded interesting, but my Lonely Planet didn’t really sell any other aspects of the town so I couldn’t make up my mind. I figured I’d come to me sometime, so I just enjoyed my breakfast and view, then went down to see the tour information guy at the front desk.

“Do you know anything about this festival in Turrialba this week?”

“Turrialba?” He asked. (I think I mispronounced it)

“Yeah, someone was telling me they have bull fighting and stuff this week.”

“My family is from there and I was there last weekend; I haven’t heard of anything, and the town is boring.”

“Oh. Thanks…” That about sealed it, I didn’t want to go there. I inquired about a bus to my second choice, Arenal, a active volcano.

“Eleven thirty, at the San Carlos bus station, it takes about four hours.”

Well I had a plan for the day, I said goodbye to everyone I had meant, told Johanas I wasn’t going to go with him, and got in a taxi to the bus station. The taxi drove me all the way across town for $1.20 and dropped me right outside the terminal at about 10:30, I was early but I didn’t have anything else to do in this unsafe town, so I just found a couple other backpackers waiting for the same bus and started talking to them. The ticket window didn’t open for another half hour but the Brit, Dan, and an Iowan couple were interesting enough to keep me occupied. We got tickets, complete with little tourist warning notes in English about not using the overhead storage in the bus because if you fall asleep, someone will steal your stuff. They had special “tourist luggage storage” in one of the compartments under the bus and the driver would only open it for you. Least they are looking out for us.

The distance the bus had to go was about 50 miles but the ride took us just over four hours through the mountains, complete with overcrowding and some old Costa Rican cowboy’s armpit in my ear while he had to stand for with his arm holding the luggage rack for about an hour. I slept through the smell.

The bus dropped us off next to the park in La Fortuna, the small town of 8,000 just next to the Volcano (which was covered with clouds today). I asked one of the locals which way to the Arenal hostel, and they told me it was about 400 meters up the road. I said goodbye to Dan and the Iowans (They had already booked there own places) and hiked up the street until I found the hostel. I checked in, took a shower and went to the front desk to see what kind of tours I could get for tomorrow. They had all kinds of options, Zip-lining, Canyoning, Rafting, ATV’s, Horseback riding, Hiking, Natural Hot Springs, and Jungle Jeep rides. I decided to go with a Volcano hike and a visit to the hot springs after. The guy at the desk asked me which one, because there are town different hot spring and the one that is more expensive is supposedly “opulent” according to Lonely Planet. The cheap one was $35 for transportation, park entry fees, hiking guide, and the hot springs entry fee. The “opulent” one cost $60 but comes with dinner and a supposed touch more class, I splurged at the desk mans suggestion, telling me it’s normally overbooked and the only reason I can go is because I am alone and they have one space left. I didn’t really believe him, but the pictures looked fancy.

I headed back the 400 meters into town to find dinner and a bottle of rum for the evening. When I got back the sun was setting behind the dark clouds and it looked like it might rain, but after saying hi to a few new people, I went out to the pool to listen to the crickets and frogs and drink my Cubra Libre’s. After an hour the rain came and chased me under the lobby’s shelter, with a few other long term travelers (A girl from Singapore on the end of her 3rd year, A British woman on the 3rd month of a year, and a Swiss guy who left in November) who I quickly befriended and spent the evening drinking and talking about the world and everything everyone has seen.

Day: 136

Just a few minutes after midnight on day one-three-six and I am sitting in terminal 207 of Ontario International Airport in a black pleather chair waiting for my flight to board and take off to Costa Rica. The recent terrorist plans in London have this whole place feeling like a jail. Heavily armed military at every crossing, not sunblock on the plane, and extended periods of serching through our bags. The young girl in glasses next to me is rocking herself to sleep on her pillow in her lap. The people here look exhausted and dreary, like one to many late night flights have flown their way. I am having a rush of adreniline surging through my body in excitemnet to get to someplace completely new and foreign. American has been nice to me (horrible on the budget), but I really enjoy the struggle of finding a place to sleep in a land where everyone jabbers at me in a different tounge. Life just makes sense to me when I have to figure it out every minute, like I am up to a new challenge with ever passing moment. I have eighteen days for Costa Rica before I am home for an entire month, for 10 days of work, some siblings birthdays and my friend’s, Christine, 21st birthday celebration. She was trying to make it to Costa Rica with me but budget constraints wouldn’t let her. It’s too bad, I would have enjoyed the company. I guess I’ll Just have to make some new friends, part of the adventure.

Time to board.

Time for a 3 hour flight, land in Houston just after 5am. I chased that with a four and a half hour layover and another 3 hour flight into San Jose, Costa Rica.

I booked a Hostel online, The Pangea, and they have a service that for $6 they’ll pick you up from the airport and take you right to their hostel. A great deal considering that a Taxi for the same ride costs $14. The bad side of this is that I was introduced to “Tico Time”, a Tico is what the Costa Ricans calll themselves and a sense of time is what they lack. It was about fifteen minutes before I found Oscar waiting for me and about another half an hour until Oscar found Martin and Andrea, a British couple who were shareing the van with me. Then Oscar called the shuttle and we waited another half an hour until it arrived, packed to the brim with a departing school group. We finally arrived at the hostel just after two. I showered and even though I was exhausted I decided to go for a little walk through this grey city to see if I could find some lunch and an ATM. I found some money and a chicken sandwich then decided on a little nap, seeing how I didn’t manage to sleep much last night.

When I woke up it was just after six and another guy, Jeremy from South Carolina, had just moved into the room with me. We got to talking and headed upstairs to the hostel bar for a beer. I understood San Jose wasn’t really safe after dark but Jeremy who had been in Costa Rica for the last 10 weeks started telling me scary mugging stories. At first I didn’t completely believe him, but soon another guy joined us, Mike a med student also from South Carolina, and he also had his own stories and reasons not to go out after dark. I decided to believe them, and since it seemed everyone else at the hostel also planned to stay at the bar all night, and beers were only $1.40, I didnt see any reason to go out. I spent the evening drinking beers and listening to Costa Rica advice from everyone who had already spent a few weeks here. I made some friends and drank half a dozen beers before all the time on the airplanes and inadequete sleep caught up to me just

Day:135

Time to go home, a week for me before Costa Rica, and back to pushing the last legal drug for Aaron, Matt and Chad.  Lei Lani and Christina had somehow manage to miss their flight this morning (Lei Lani seems to have a knack for not getting on the plane on time (no offense Lei)), and all of the sudden Skittles was overflowing with people.  There was no way we could all manage this ride home with six of us.

To everyone’s dismay, Matt didn’t finish the trip with us, or get to be in the California state sign.  He found a ride with one of their other friends that was in Vegas who wasn’t leaving for a few hours.  The rest of us were on a race against the clock because Aaron had to be at work at 4:15pm and Chad was only fifteen minutes behind that.  After dropping off a still drunk Matt at the Wynn, I hit the pedal and hit the highway cruising eighty miles an hour all the way home.

I was home just before 3pm, and thus ended my American part of The World Tour.  In just a few days (after I babysit my 2 and 4 year old nieces for three days while their mom and dad are in Hawaii) I will be heading to Costa Rica and bringing you, once more what you really care to see, me getting drunk in OTHER countries.  Oh, yeah and probably some shots of beaches, rain forests, food, and stuff.

I for one am really excited to get back to where traveling is cheap.

Day: 134

My brother, Aaron, came into Vegas late last night to meet up with his friend Ian’s bachelor party. I thought I’d be for the best if I made my way to the Aladdin to see what kind of trouble they’ve been getting into. Also I wanted to possibly partake in any party that they may of had going on. Aaron (the other one), Matt and Chad wanted to meet up with some friends that they had invited to Vegas at the Wynn, and also had to get Aaron’s sister (Christina) and Lei Lani from the airport. We loaded into Skittles and they dropped me off to find my brother, while they went to find all their friends. We promised to meet up later.

I got to rooms 1407 and 1409, to find a room full of partially drunk guys who had just spent the morning drinking free Mimosa’s (OJ and champagne) with their buffet. This was on the right track so far, except for Pep, who thought it would be the best idea to have 14 Mimosa’s with breakfast, so he was kind of trashed. I said hello to my brother, got a drink, took a hit off of the vaporizer (a neat little machine that gives you all the THC without any of the smoke), and headed down to the pool to see about what kind of trouble we could get into this afternoon.

At the pool Aaron and I found the two most important things we had to buy before we could get in the water, sunblock and cocktails. We lathered each other up as the rest of the boys had already found a bachelorette party to crash on the far side of the pool. We spent the afternoon hanging out in the sun, drinking Ketel One and pissing off the Bride, who for some reason thought I’d be ok to keep taking my hat. I eventually dunked her in the water and Aaron called her a “Dumb bitch”, which I completely agreed with.  The funny thing is she kept acting pissed off but would always come back, let us know how pissed off she was, then just stand around and talk to us while we pretty much ignored her.  I will never understand women.

Before I knew it (and after six applications of SPF 30) we were back in the room getting ready for the night.  Aaron had agreed to go with me to dinner with the Road Trip crew, then head back out with the party.  Aaron and I had a couple of hours until the dinner reservations so we wandered around the strip drinking $2 you-call-it’s and playing a few hands of $20 blackjack, which I won at and immediately found the closest bar and drank away my winnings.

We all finally got together out front of the Wynn and headed across the street to Maggiano’s for some Italian family style dining and a little dancing.  Dinner was an amazing assortment of food, and with there being 10 of us we could actually try quite a few things.  After dinner we all were heading down the strip and eventually got lost in the crowds until it was just Aaron and I. I knew everyone else was heading to New York, New York to go to the piano bar so I just figured on catching up with them in a little while.  Aaron wanted to get back to his party so we tried in vain to hail a cab. Eventually we were walking down the strip trying to hitchhike back to the Aladdin.  After about 20 minutes of this a cab picked us up.  $16 later we were through Saturday night traffic and back in the room with Aaron’s friends.

Pulp Fiction was playing on TMC and I layed on the bed for a little break while everyone else was finishing getting ready. Things faded for me quickly, and it was only 10pm.

When I woke up the room was empty. I glanced over at the clock and saw it was nearly two in the morning.

“Damn” I thought, “I just lost a whole night in Vegas.”

But just then I heard the redeeming accent of Sean Connery, teaching his Scottish friend what it meant to be a Immortal!  What luck! I may not have a phone (remember I left it in a cab in Boston) or any way to get in contact with anyone in Vegas, and I may have just slept through my last night of the Road Trip, which was supposed to be a big hurrah, but The Highlander was on TV! How do I get so lucky!

I stayed up until 3:30 watching the epic battles and walked out of the hotel looking for a cab quoting “There can be only one!” (Although, to be honest, when I say it it is nowhere near as cool as when Sean says it).  I found a cab, and $14 later I was at Matt’s dad house , where I was the first one to make it home.  The night might not have been what I planned, but I realized good things do sometimes just happen. At least I left Vegas with some cash in my pocket.

Day: 133

So since we were staying with Matt’s dad, Kirk, and tonight was Kirks first night off work since we’ve been here, Matt wanted to make it a bonding day for him and Dad. We didn’t make any big plans (other than making it to the theatre to watch Will Ferralls new movie Talledega Nights), and spent most of the afternoon drinking, giving the dog beer, drinking from a funnel, and having a guys night in.

Day: 132

Centurion: A drinking game in which each player, armed with a shot glass, drinks a shot of beer every minute for 100 minutes.  After an hour and forty minutes each player that has succeeded in not throwing up or giving up will have consumed somewhere around 15 beers.

We decided, with no big plans for the day and a budget that has been hurting since New York, to spend our afternoon seeing if after this last month of training we could complete a Centurion.  I had complete faith in myself, Aaron seemed to think I’d be the first out, Matt and Chad had strong thoughts on winning.

Chad and I left the house just before noon to find two sixty packs and four shot glasses.  The beer was an easy find at the local Food-4-Less, but the shot glasses took us 7 stops and finally a trip out to the Las Vegas strip to find the worlds largest gift shop (seriously, its on their sign!)that sold assorted Vegas brick-a-brack and shot glasses.  We made it back to the house with everything ready just after 1 o’clock.  We all had a challenge and were mentally preparing for the onslaught that was coming.

We set up the clock, gathered around the coffee table in the living room, put on the Super Troopers DVD and were ready.

1:19pm (Local Vegas Time) - “Skol!” (Norwegian for “Cheers!”) and our first shots slid down into our belly.

1:38pm - 20 shots down and the buzz is starting to work it’s way into our day.

1:40pm - 22 shots and Aaron is starting to get a queasy look and complains about all the foam in his stomach.

1:41pm - As Matt, Chad and I drop our 23rd shots Aaron rushes to the kitchen sink for some projectile vomiting. Could very well have been one of the funniest sound I have ever heard.

1:44pm - Aaron has rinsed his mouth out and is playing catch up by slamming four in a row.

1:47pm - 29th shots and Aaron rushes to the sink again….(once again a hilarious sound echos from the kitchen)

1:50pm - Aaron concedes. We drink number 32.

2:11pm - Getting quite drunk, Matt and I power through shot 53 as Chad makes a mad rush to the bathroom.  Another sound that is just as funny reverberates down the hallway.

2:15pm - Chad powers through five in a row to catch up, as Matt and I hold strong drinking number 57.

2:34pm - Shot number 76.  The world has already starting to spin for us all and Aaron (his relative sobriety) has to keep an eye on the clock so we can stay on track of our goal.

2:49pm - 90 down and ten to go, we see our goal in sight.  The minutes are flying by, with my lack of motor function it takes me most of the time between shots just to fill my next one.

2:52pm - We slam number 93 and Matt says “Fill mine, I have to pee before the next shot”  He runs off to the bathroom. I fill both our glasses as I could hear Matt peeing down the hall, then all the sudden; “Blagghh….”

2:53pm - Matt comes back, shoots number 94 with us and admits “I was pissing, but once I saw the toilet I couldn’t keep it down.  I threw up standing, while I was pissing.”  I was impressed, he didn’t even miss a       shot.

2:59pm - Still keeping myself under control, Matt, Chad and I cheers our 100th shot!

I never threw up, making me the victor and also the one with a late afternoon hangover.  Matt and Chad came in second and third respectively, both managing to finish the mission even though they had a few digestive problems.  I felt like I just won the beer drinking Olympics.

After about half an hour Chad and I decided we were hungry and wanted to wander the strip.  We set off with about $70 bucks each and a two mile walk before us to get to the strip, we started walking in the 100 degree (40 c) weather until we got to an Arby’s and went inside to order a couple of Beef and Cheddar sandwiches. Chad’s phone rang.  It was Matt and Aaron and they were on their way with Skittles to join us, we ordered two extra sandwiches and jump into Skittles.  The next few hours flew by, but at some point Chad and I were left alone inside some casino playing craps and roulette, and drinking free goose and tonics.

After losing a little money we found a steakhouse (directly across from the tables) and had an amazing dinner of veal chops and ravioli.  After dinner we made our way back outside where we were startled to find the daylight blind us.

“Really?!” I thought. “Is it really still daytime?! Dang.”

We walked up and down Las Vegas Blvd. for an hour or so and finally got a cab back to Matt’s dad’s house.

Another day where I was asleep by 10pm.  At least I went to bed (or perhaps I should say floor) feeling like an Olympic Champion, even if I did lose a little money to the city of Las Vegas.

Day: 131

Startled from my sleep as Matt pulled the car off the road next to the Welcome to Utah sign, I noticed a beautiful sunrise coming up over the desert. We all got creative really quickly, shot one picture and loaded back in the car where I fell asleep again. The sleep was short lived before I was called up once again to drive our way the last 100 miles into Nevada where we shot another picture and changed drivers again for the home run into Vegas where we could sleep and recover from the dragging 24 hours of driving.

Once we finally did arrive at Matt’s dad’s house we quickly cleaned up and spent the rest of the day zoning out in front of the TV and eating Del Taco. Perfect ending to a long drive. I think I was asleep on the floor by 9pm completely satisfied with the hardwood floor and a blanket.

Day: 130

Getting up after noon, the four of us had agreed to do a 24 hour day of driving from Ceder Falls, Iowa to Las Vegas, Nevada where Matt’s dad lives, and we have another free place to stay. It was roughly 1800 miles and complete exhaustion for all off us. I was up to the challenge to drive first and go for as long as I could before I had to give up, I think this was because I was the “least” hungover from the night before.

We left Iowa at roughly 2pm.

I made it (with the help of 3 Red-Bulls) somewhere around thirteen hours, through Nebraska and partway into Colorado before I was too exhausted to drive any longer. The sun had gone down long before and I was gone as soon as I hit the back seat.

Day: 129

Waking up in some random Motel 6 somewhere in Illinois our goal for the day was to drive Skittles into Iowa to stay with one of Aaron’s marine buddies who was going to show us around a small town Iowa(ian?) night. We drove for a few hours before our first stop at a playground to teeter-totter, play King-of-the-Hill, tire swing, and jump off swings just like we were eleven again. Still trying to make it to Ceder Falls, Iowa with a few hours of daylight left, we abandoned our playground and piled back in Skittles to power through another four hours of driving before we arrived at our destination. We were introduced to Aaron’s rather racist (sadly) marine buddy, Skyler, who seemed to have a problem with everyone, but also had a large couch and a couple of empty rooms in his apartment.

With it only being just after 5, and the sun still a ways from setting, we bought some drinks and went off to a cheap local golf course to play a few holes. Before long it was almost dark and we were all slightly buzzed, we went back to Skyler’s apartment and showered to get ready for a night out. We hit up a couple of local clubs/bars and had a normal night out. Nothing to special, yet.

Just after last call we six (Matt, Aaron, Chad, Skyler, I and Sklyer’s other roommate), end up in an alley waiting for Skyler’s roommate’s girlfriend to pick us up in her Ford Taurus and take us back next to the apartment for some latenight snacks at the local convenience store. After eating, a very drunken Skyler starts talking all kinds of trash to just about everyone and about everyone. At some point he challenges me to an out door wrestling match at three in the morning. I had been taking it easy on the booze for most of the night and I easily outweighed him by fifty pounds, of course I agreed. I was just hoping he wasn’t some Marine wrestling champ or anything, otherwise I was ready to crush this little racist punk. It took me about 9 seconds to have him pinned. He came up surprised that I could handle myself at all.

“Rematch?” he slurred.

“Sure.” I replied.

He gave his all this time and lasted about 20 seconds before I locked him to the ground. As a good drunken bigot should, he started to get angry and tell me in a real fight he’d kick my ass.

I ignored him. By this point though, Aaron was ready to challenge me. I accepted just for fun. Aaron is much more level headed than his Iraqi fighting friend, but also much closer to my size and in much better shape. I was ready for a challenge and thought I may not win this one. I went right for Aaron and threw him off balance, once we hit the ground he lasted just a minute or two (hard to measure time when you’re wrestling) before, to both our amazement I had him pinned on the grass. Sometime I wow even myself.

Coming up on three o’clock and completely worn out with ending the night with wrestling we were thinking about heading off to bed. Just about then, Matt and I spotted four girls dressed in swimsuits and assorted beach wear wandering by, we quickly accosted them and got invites to some late night swimming in one of their friends pools. Chad and Aaron didn’t waste anytime and the eight of us were off walking into the dark for some late night swimming. Somewhere along the way the girls let us know that there friends didn’t actually know they were coming, and their “friends” were actually six guys who live in a house. The four of us look at each other and were all on our toes for trouble as we snuck into some random dudes backyard with some random chicks.

Getting in the pool we all covertly positioned our clothes and things for a rapid escape if needed, while the girls creeped inside and raided these guys fridge for beer for everyone.

Great, now I had snuck into a frat house’s pool and stole their beer, this can only turn out good (sarcasm). We swam around quietly for a while but eventually started making so much noise that anyone inside would have to wake up. After almost two hours, as we were getting dressed to leave, the only thing we could think of is that the people inside must have all thought it was one of there other roommates making all the noise. The only thing that saved us was probably the same thing that scared us, that six guys live in one hour.

Well, it turns out that one of our new lady friends was a hair stylist that invited Matt and I back to her house for 5am drunken haircuts. Slightly weirded out by letting some random drunk chick cut my hair at five in the morning, I followed along knowing that no matter what happened I could always shave it in the morning. What I couldn’t do though is ever replace the story of some chick I meant on the streets of Iowa at three in the morning cutting my hair with the sunrise. Aaron and Chad had turned back but Matt and I went with the girls to their house a few blocks away.

Matt whispered to me “You have to go first, I have to work next week and can’t have a shitty haircut.”

I agreed for fun.

She brought out all her tools and we to work on my head. Her hands worked with skill that quickly told me she knew what she was doing, I felt relieved. By the time she was done Matt had pretty much passed out on the couch and declined his haircut. I went into the bathroom to dust off the hair and check out her work. She actually did good, I would even let her do it again. We all went to the front of the girls house and watched the sunrise, and Matt and I staggered back to new racist friends apartment.