A car horn, what could be simpler? I´ve learned that there are many different uses for a horn rarely explored in the US. Honking is constant here and I think a sociologist could have a field day deciphering all of the different honk messages. A honk can mean, ''I´m driving by and I think you´re cute'', or ''I´m going to pass you on the wrong side of the road, just to let you know'' or even ''I´m driving a huge bus with 150 people on it and I´m rounding an impossibly tight corner with zero visibility so I´ll honk so as not to go head-on into an oncoming vehicle.'' As you can guess the latter came up frequently this weekend. I already knew driving here can only be described in two ways: fast and out-of-control. But add to that a three ton travel bus and impossibly narrow, just dug yesterday roads and that spells F-U-N! But I´m getting ahead of myself.

So the plan was that the eight of us would bring all of our stuff for the weekend to school on Friday and then right after class was over we were booking it out of there on a tight schedule. First we had to take a bus to Alajuela Centro, then catch a cab to the ticket station outside of San Jose, then another cab to the actual bus station in San Jose (you didn´t think they would sell the bus tickets at the actual bus station, did you?) and catch the express bus directly to Manuel Antonio at 1:30. Amazingly everything went without a hitch and even though we were dealing with two groups of four we all got to the bus station at the same time and boarded and were golden. The bus from San Jose to Manuel Antonio was pimped! The seats were like double foam and reclined 3/4 down and had mad drink holders everywhere (not that we had drinks, but it was still cool), and a bathroom in the back and piped in music. I fogot to get a picture, but just imagine a really really really nice bus and you´ll get the idea. So the express took us directly from San Jose to Manuel Antonio with a bathroom break in the middle and only took 3 1/2 hours. Great! So we took off and everyone was excited and chatting to each other about the weekend and the beach.

The drive was beautiful, I have to admit. At times breathtaking....breathtaking in the way that I couldn´t breath because I thought I was going to plunge off a cliff to my death. I would have loved to take pictures but seeing as how we were traveling at the speed of light and weaving in and out of traffic on a one-lane road it made it difficult for my mere man-made camera to capture the beauty. Here is a picture of Lindsay and I clenching our teeth in false happiness as the scenery rips by us. Believe me when I say we fully believed this would be our last picture.

Oh, and the bridges. Ahhhhh....the bridges. Apparently they don´t have many engineers in Costa Rica or the ones they do have aren´t focusing on bridge building. The bridges were this: rows of metal pipe laid together and fastened with railroad tracks. When you cross the bridge you literally roll across on the pipes. And there´s no guessing here - there was maybe a foot of wiggle room on either side of the bus tires, and then imminent death....guard rails are for pussies (and industrialized nations). Once, having accepted that my fate was in the hands of the driver who'd only moments before been enjoying a cerveza with his right hand man Pedro while driving, I stuck my head out the window to try and capture the view. I didn´t get a picture until the end of the bridge, but you can at least get an idea of the design, and then imagine that instead of seeing grass between the pipe it`s a 10,000 foot drop off.

But we got there in one piece and that´s all that´s important. And we had 48 hours until we had to get on the bus again so we were going to live it up! So we got to Manuel Antonio at 5ish and the rest of the group hung out at the beach while I walked up the street to secure us a hotel. Now I`d done my research in the week leading up to the trip (suprise, suprise) and found that there was only one budget hotel in Manuel Antonio for backpackers and the rest are pretty expensive. Not wanting to share one room with seven other people I took off to find this hotel as soon as I could. I asked the first person I saw where this hotel was, he pointed me in the direction of a little road perpendicular to the beach and I set off to find it. Turned out not to be so hard, and I was able to secure us the last four rooms available so we were two to a room. The hostel was great, and really geared towards backpackers. The price was a mere $10 per person per night which included a free dinner on Saturday night! We were all over it. The rooms were small and could be likened to a prison cell, but it was a bed and a locking door and that was all that was important.

Here´s the front of the hostel, nestled in the beautiful foliage....

...which opens up into the sitting/dining area....

and here´s looking into the same area coming from the other side.

We were all assigned our rooms, Lindsay and I bunked together and here´s an idea of what backpacker luxury (at $10/day) gets you...

Okay, so that evening we went to a restaurant for dinner and some drinks. While I was originally trepedacious about being with such a big group it turned out to be a lot of fun because we could all split off during the day and then come together as a group at night. Here we are enjoying margaritas at a restaurant by the ocean on our first night of a great weekend.

After dinner we heard about a Salsa club up the road so we walked up the beach to it. The dancing didn´t start until 10 and we got there at 9 and we were the only ones there. We all had a hard time believing this was going to be the happening spot, but everyone insisted so okay. We hung out and had Imperial Cerveza (the official beer of Costa Rica) under the stars and sitting on these little cement stools directly on the beach. It was very nice. Well true to their word at the stroke of 10pm like sixty Costa Ricans descended on this club out of nowhere...like magic! The music started and all of us girls were very excited to learn to Salsa and get our dance on with some locals. Well apparently their idea of great local music was I've Got the Power (you know....it's gettin, it's getting, it's gettin kinda hectic) and every other early 90s dance song. Ugh. But at least we were dancing.

Now would be a good time to note that I spent the whole weekend wet. The coast is more hot and humid than inland, and I was amazed at how much I could sweat. All of us were amazed at our abundant sweat. I am not exaggerating when I say that walking from my room to the downstairs meeting area would turn my dry clothes into fresh-from-the-beach wet clothes. Nothing stayed dry, NOTHING! I have to confess that by the end of the weekend I was so sick of having pruney hands and feet that I was desperate to get home where I might be hot but at least dry! And of course sweating that much required a LOT of water to maintain any kind of balance in the body. I drank massive amounts of water, but another girl in our group didn't and learned quickly (as she vomited on the side of the road) that it'll dehydrate you in a second.

So we had fun at the dance club Friday night and on our way home the girls took a dip in the Pacific Ocean in our ''Eve suits'' (al fresco), my god the water was sooooo nice it was like a slightly cool bathtub, but refreshing without being cold, just lovely! We went to bed on our foam mattresses with the provided sheet (singular) and fitfully slept.

The next morning Lindsay and I were both awake at 5am so we got out of there and headed to the beach. The national park wasn't open until 7:30am so we just walked along the public beach but no complaining here -- the beach was so amazingly beautiful!

The scenery was different and fantastic, palm trees and impossibly fine sand combined with large rocks that jutted out of the water.

In places the ocean had formed little channels of water. Some locals kept their boats floating here in wait for crabbing or other aquatic activities.

We hiked around the rocks for a while, saw a bunch of crabs which I tried to take pictures of but they blended in so well it was futile. We had a bunch of fun climbing around the rocks though.

At 7:00 we headed back to the hostel because they offered a breakfast which included Gallo Pinto (Costa Rican rice/bean dish), scrambled eggs, toast, fruit plate of fresh mangoes, pineapples and guava, a pancake and coffee for 1,500 Colones (a little less than $3.00). GREAT BREAKFAST! After breakfast Lindsay and I headed to the Manuel Antonio National Park to do some trail hiking and see some beaches. It cost $7 to get into the park, and I think we were the first ones there. We consulted our guide book and decided to take an ''off road'' trail that explored one of the jutts of the park and emptied out into what was supposed to be a beautiful beach.

But don't let the cute map fool you, to say this trail was 'rustic' would be a vast understatement. We were bushwhacking it through the whole thing and it seemed we would walk forever without seeing the ocean. And if we thought we were sweaty when we were in town, you can`t imagine how we looked by the end of the trail!

And this (really) is the trail...

....so we hiked.....

....and hiked.....and hiked......

....and thought we'd never see the ocean again. But it was worth it because when we finally got somewhere it was the most beautiful, remote, picturesque beach EVER and we were so thrilled we ripped our clothes off and full-on ran into the water.

We spent a couple of hours hanging out and relaxing there before we hit the trail again. On the trail we saw several monkeys, sloths, crabs, and some animal that's indigenous to Costa Rica and looks exactly like an ENORMOUS (think medium sized dog) RAT but without a tail. Yeah, I wasn't trying to pet that thing. Unfortunately I wasn't able to get any good pictures of those animals, but I did get some shots of friends I made:

meet Mr. Iguana,

the Crab family,

and their friend Other Mr. Crab,

and of course their favorite neighbor Mr. Frog!

We had such a fantastic day, it's hard to express how beautiful everything was and how surreal it was to be in paradise! Lindsay and I had the same vibe and enjoyed finding secluded places to hang out (not difficult) and it was great.

Saturday night it rained and so we took a taxi into the bigger town of Quepos and went to a bar to participate in spanish Karoke! Oh that's right...IN SPANISH! No tourists were in there, it was a crappy bar and only locals were there. To say we were of mild staring interest to them is mild. I felt like I had four eyes and three noses to be stared at that hard. Luckily we had some street cred because one of the girls in my group, Crystal, speaks really great spanish and she belted out a few Selena songs. She was amazing, I wish I'd gotten pictures of it.

Sunday was waaaay more laid back. I went into Quepos to get return bus tickets for the group and while I was there I bought a hammock, went back to the beach, gave everyone their tickets and then found a secluded spot in a tree grove to hang my hammock where I spent the next five hours by myself swaying in the breeze, looking at the ocean and listening to an audio book on my iPod (thanks, Leah! I LOVE The Memory of Running!!) It was heaven.

At 3:00 we caught the express bus back, and for a review of that ride just read the opening paragraphs. When I got back to my house my sheets and towels were freshly laundered, I took a long hot shower and was asleep by 8:30 -- so grateful to be dry. It was a great weekend, can't wait to see what the next five weekends hold!!!