Excuse me Sir, Would Like a Little Costa Con Los Chubbies?
Yeehaw! Back crankalankin’ on the old Chubbies travel blog!
Allow me to reintroduce all the relevant characters:
Tom: me, your narrator!
Brian: my buddy and traveling companion
Monica: our gracious hostess for this part of the trip. Total cutie from Laguna beach living in Costa for a year.
Ghost: Monica’s rad pit bull and my new best friend
From the left: Ghost, Monica, Tom, Brian (Sunset at Playa Langosta. Brian is wearing capri pants. Ghost is pissed)
Now back to the snoop bloggy blog…
After our mellow evening watching Wedding Crashers, we get tons of rest and are up early to hit the beach. Monica’s working today (taking travelers out to the beach to catch some gnar) so Brian and I are on our own to shred sick wave.
We hit up Tamarindo Beach for a couple of hours. Brian loves it, catches the surfing bug.
After shredding wave for a couple hours, we begin to tire and need to get some grub to refuel. We hit up this restaurant at the Witch’s Rock Surf Camp whose claim to fame is “Nachos as big as your ass”. All they need to say to attract two happy customers. We get the nachos (obviously). I’m not sure whose ass they are referring to, but these nachos - while big - definitely aren’t as big as my big ol’ badonkadonk. They are certainly tasty though.
After grubbing out, we decide to just hang out on the beach. The beach in Tamarindo is not super crowded, but most of the folks on the beach are out peddling their wares in one way or another. Whenever they see a gringo, these consummate salesmen start slangin. We get offered everything from surf lessons to bird whistles to cocaine. A conversation with one gentleman on the beach actually hits all three of those products - he leads off with the surf lessons, we decline, moves on to bird whistles, we decline, on to the marijuana offer, again we politely decline, and he closes it out with a casual offer for a gram of cocaine. WE ACCEPT! Just kidding, we decline once again.
After lounging for a bit, catching some rays, Brian and I decide to head down to Playa Langosta. Playa Langosta is a rivermouth beach that is like a 5-10 minute walk from Monica’s house. Not too many people on the beach. To get to the break, Brian and I ford the river on our boards and paddle out into the depths. Langosta is set up in such a way that there is mainly one peak to ride. There’s a crowd. It’s tough to catch waves. Especially because the locals are ridiculously good surfers. There’s a kid out there who’s maybe 10 years old, tops. Kid shreds. Brian and I are mesmerized at how good this little dude is.
We catch some wave. We head back to shore.
We get back to Monica’s place and hang with Ghost for a bit. He’s barking at the howler monkeys and so we try to help him catch one. It doesn’t work. Ghost is bummed for a bit, but he recovers and we walk around the forest.
Brian and I decide to catch the sunset back at Tamarindo so we head down the beach. We sit on a log.
This local Costa Rican gal walks up to us and starts chatting us up. The conversation continues to die naturally and she continues to ask questions. Brian and I are suspicious that she may be looking for some paid company this evening. After a few rounds of this and a sweet sunset, Brian and I head back to Monica’s to meet back up with her and plan the night’s festivities. More on this gal in a bit.
We meet up with Monica back home. Tonight is our big night on the town. There’s a reggae party and Monica is taking out a couple of her surf students (30/40 year old men, two pretty cool dudes from Florida and a dude from New York) out with us on the town. Sweet. We get spiffed out and ready to vibe with the nightlife.
We meet up with the Florida dudes and Brooklyn bro and lo and behold who do we spy sitting at their table but the dame from the beach who had been chatting us up earlier. Yowza. Florida dude 1 is intent on m’lady. We are pretty sure she is a lady of the night.
Florida dude 1 gets us beers. Monica gets our camera and starts taking lots of pictures. THANKS MONICA.
Chillin in the Chubbies
We finish up the old brew-has and head to get some grub at Monica’s favorite Tamarindo spot. I get casados. And a marg. We discuss politics. And football. And shorts.
Brian took it upon himself to toast the group’s health and happiness. Thanks Brian!
It’s not quite time to get reggaelicious, so we head to a pretty cool upper deck pool hall. Brian and I lose at pool. But it’s just cause we let Monica win. Naturally. Pool pool pool. More pictures. Couple more beers. Locals and tourists alike are confused but intrigued by our shorts. Many questions. Many compliments.
Gal from the beach, Me, Brian.
Time for reggae.
Brian and I infuse ourselves with the Rastafarian spirit and get our grooves going on the dance floor. We repel all women except for Monica who takes pity on us and dances somewhat in our general vicinity. Our only saving grace is the hot hot shorts we’re rocking like muths.
From the left: Monica, Tom, Florida dude #2 getting with the program, Bob Marley
Reggae reggae reggae.
Post reggae we head home and catch some z’s. On to day 4.
We leave Tamarindo today so we have to pack up all of our stuff and return our rental surfboards. Monica has to leave early in the morn so she wakes us up and we say our goodbyes. Bye Monica, bye Ghost. We are off to another little beach town called Santa Teresa that’s like 60 miles south.
We literally sprint to our next destination.
My feet hurt when we arrive, but we pull it together and hit da beach. Beach beach beach. Surf surf surf. Shorts shorts shorts.
We are staying at a hostel called Tranquilo Backpacker (peaceful backpacker for those of you who don’t habla espanol). Our hostess (I’ll call her Oklahoma Yoga Lady) is from Oklahoma and loves doing yoga. She just moved to Santa Teresa a week ago. She’s a bit on the strange side. Direct quote from Oklahoma Yoga Lady - “if you drink Kombucha every day you will literally never get sick in your life”. She spacily hands us our keys and bedding. It takes like 45 minutes to complete this process. We ask her questions. She stares blankly for a few seconds before answering. She tells us about a Full Moon party that is going to happen in a couple days. Wahoo!
Tranquilo Backpackers is sweet. Hammocks all over the place. Tons of tourists from all over. Our next door neighbors are 1) a pair of German girls who are very nice, in Santa Teresa learning to surf, and 2) a group of Swedish girls who are really dang good at surfing, down in Costa catching GNAR. Nice gals.
Best feature of Backpackers (short for Tranquilo Backpackers) is their ping pong table. Brian and I play like ten games a day. We get heckled by our neighbors a lot.
We head out for some CASADOS and eat them up. We explore Santa Teresa. We see a sweet sunset and we take some pics.
Me and Brian with Malpais beach in the background. Brian and those damned capri pants.
Santa Teresa is pretty sweet - a bit more local-y than Tamarindo, definitely more surfer-y. Waves are big and nice. There are a few hostels and a few bars. Some decent restaurants as well.
We head back in and grab a couple beers. We play ping pong. We drink the beers we bought. Mellow evening, we want to get up early for more beach action.
There’s a storm abrewin’. Brian continues the capri pants travesty.