Thirteen means fun for me!

Weekend three:
Friday, July 13th

Maybe today is bad luck for some, but for me, it is naught but fun. Heyo!

A-rafting I will go; a-rafting I will go! Hi ho the derrio, a-rafting I will go!

Yeah, so I am excited. I do the whole get ready thing this morning and make sure not to pack anything that I wouldn’t mind getting wet. This means no book or knitting, but I’m hoping the wait won’t be too bad.

I get to the bus stop and confusedly wait for Hannah and Beth. Are they in that tour bus over there? What am I supposed to do? But then they get off their bus, and we all head to the Tourismo shuttle. A bit later, and we are on our way. In the bus we meet Nick: an Australian by way of Hong Kong and California. He is super cool, so we chat him up until we reach base. Here we are served a monster breakfast – more food than I’ve had in weeks. I am pretty thrilled. As I stuff my face with toast and eggs, I consider this river.

We are rafting the Pascua, a class III-IV river and, according to the guide who busses us up to the departure site, home of some of the best rapids in CR. Whoot! At the top, we meet our guide, a toned sixteen year old named Ricky, who takes it upon himself to flirt us to death. Well, a little flirting I can handle, that walk from the top of the mountain down to our rafts I cannot. I can feel the blisters forming as we reach the bottom and receive our gear. We have been briefed on safety techniques, and I am ready to brave this rio. Heck yes! Feel the excitement!

Soon we are rafting. It is “forward, back paddle, stop, and everyone get down!” over the best water ride ever. So much fun. I wish I could describe it more, but it is all sensations and commands in my head. But Hannah took lots of pictures with her water camera, so if those turn out, we’ll have dozens of thousand word photos, no?

We do pull over for lunch, where the crew basically prepares a buffet on the bottoms of our rafts. It is pretty awesome. I eat my weight in pineapple (okay, not really, but I probably could!), and decide that river cheesecake is the thing. Remind me to make it for you someday.

Then, back on the river. I admit, it is not easy rowing and pushing and pulling, but I love it. And when it is over and I have to walk back to camp on my blistered pies, I don’t even care. I am going to do it again... maybe with Alli. Oh I love rafting!

After buying a t-shirt at base camp and getting some final pictures with Nick, we board the bus home. The ride back to town is heinous. This very opinionated man spends the entire ride (which is about four hours due to a horrible accident that stops traffic for two hours) telling his comrades (most of which are under 15) his thoughts on politics, video games, and television. And those kids soak it up. It’s not so much that he is uninteresting, but dear lord, who talks that much? I feel sorry for those impressionable children. But I have to give it to him – he has the gift of gab. It is a bit mesmerizing to watch. But darn, I wish I had brought something to do.

Finally, we do make it home. At least, sort of. We are dropped off in the middle of San Jose, so we have to make our way to the bus stops. And, as luck is with me today, my bus is waiting on me. So, half an hour later, I am arriving at my stop, and after the quick walk home, I pull myself into my house. I am tired and hungry and greedily devour the soup my mamá tica feeds me. Bless her tica soul. Then it is off to bed. Never mind that it is 8:30. I am exhausted, and that, my dears, means sleep to me.

¡Buenas noches!