The Water-taxi that turned Death into Zen.  I love all means of transport, it sounded like a brilliant idea at the time; avoid a 4 hour shuttle bus to Jaco by taking a 1 hour water-taxi from Montezuma.  Walking to the beach, I was filled with anticipation and excitement.  The first thing our captain said was “it’s going to be a rough ride, any rougher and I wouldn’t dare even try; prepare to get a little wet.”  No problem, I thought to myself as they began to hand out heavy duty garbage bags to wrap up our bags.   

Standing on the warm sandy beach, the sun warmed my early morning spirit; the Ocean seemed to be inviting us with open arms.  The initial ride out was pleasant, I was enjoying every moment on the sea and under the sun.  We crossed a threshold, the cross wind immediately picked up, the beach was almost out of sight, and the realization we were on the open sea soon came spraying over the side of the boat.  Little by little the waves grew in size; my imagination was wandering in some distant dream until it was sucked back into the now by a huge crash as the Skipper cut the engine.  I looked to my side and saw nothing but the deep blue Ocean.  My pulse quickened as the engine began to roar into gear once more.  The immense waves completely engulfed our little vessel, so big the horizon line was disappearing with each rise up and down, the Ocean slapping us in the face with salt water, as our little boat was tossed left and right.  Nobody was enjoying the ride any longer, a quick scan revealed not a life-jacket in sight; the Captain never taking his eyes off the Ocean in front of him.  Pleasure soon turned to fear as it often does, gripping the rail at my side with tight white knuckles; I took a recount of my life thus far and couldn’t remember the last time I felt the fear of death. 

Death drops the grains of sand in the hourglass ever so slowly.  Finally, after almost 2 hours of deep blue, we passed through the eye of the beast and motored into calm water.  Relieved, I sat back a felt a heightened sense of being and wonder in my soul; it was a triumphant feeling.  I could see the land again, it was a beautiful sight, but the taxi made a sharp left turn and seemed to be heading towards the open sea once more.  The words “what the fuck” passed through my mind.  The captain pointed out and uttered his first word since the beach “Dolfino”. 

It was our reward for bravery in the face of death: a huge swarm of dolphins racing along, jumping high in the sky with magnificent twirls, seeking only the pleasurable.  Together with the dolphins at our side, we enjoyed a true Zen filled moment of wonder; we loved their beautiful presence, and they seemed to love ours.  Although that will probably be my last water-taxi ride; when Death turns to Zen, it can only be described as: SPECTACULAR.

I am a true backpacker in every sense; I try to make the most of every experience.  In regards to accommodations, as long as my backpack is safe, it doesn’t really matter.  To be honest, I am going to pass out anyways, as long as it’s not on a street corner or in an alley; I’ll be fine.  

In comparison to some of the true ghettos I have crashed in, my Costa Rican laundry room was an Oasis.  In Nice, it was a cockroach invested cubicle with a dirty mattress on the floor, no air conditioning, and mysterious grease stays everywhere.  We had only one rule, never turn on the lights at night, because the sight of that many cockroaches was like the horror movie Arachnophobia redone to be even more grotesque.  The true dump in Northern Spain, had what I thought looked like gang graffiti on the wall.  Let’s not even talk about what the communal bathroom looked like in Rome; it’s a memory to painful to relive. 

I thought we might have to sleep on the beach our second night in Santa Theresa.  We begged the owners of Playa Carmen to find us a room for another night.  “Well, we have a laundry room”, is all she said.  “O.K. fine, we’ll take it.”  Not sure what to expect, we went out for a day at the beach.  When we returned, we were delighted to find two nice beds, a clean and spacious room, two fans, towels, and private bathroom; the only notable difference was two laundry machines in the corner.  It was actually quite nice, it exceeded all of our expectations; they went out of their way to transform a laundry room into a little Oasis for two desperate travelers.  We probably could have found another place to stay after New Years, but after we both got laid in the laundry room by two cute Tico girls, the Laundry Cabin became a funny joke and home sweet home.  Looking back it was probably the weirdest, yet coolest place I have ever stayed.  The journey in life is always what you make of it.  To Quote Kahlil Gibran once again: “”Your living is determined not so much by what life brings to you as by the attitude you bring to life; not so much by what happens to you as by the way your mind looks at what happens.”