We made it! Whew. After a 3:30am wakeup call, 6 hours on a plane, 7 hours in the Atlanta airport, and waaaay too much money spent on airport food and books, we landed in Costa Rica! Customs let us through (ha!) and we managed to find ourselves a taxi driver who knew where our hotel was located.
We stayed at El Cacique at the recommendation of Bill, the man we're renting a bungalow from in Puerto Viejo. Jon, a thirty-something tico (that's what the Costa Ricans call themselves), rents out a spare room in the house he shares with his mother and father. He was very hospitable and sold us Costa Rica's finest (read: cheapest) beer almost immediately upon arrival.
The next day we hopped on a bus- after hopping Zac up on Dramamine- and rode six hours to Puerto Viejo and our home for the next week, Pachamama.
More later- we're off to walk the beach! Hasta pronto, chamacos!
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