I cannot believe it! The next morning, having a café au lait in town I saw an ad in the Tico Times for the 2nd annual Costa Rica Blues festival, featuring Guitar Shorty. And who should wangle a joint photo with Guitar Shorty but Chilón, he with the golden tongue.
It was 3 hours to Houston on a rickety long-in-the-tooth Continental jet, packed to the gills; then a 3 hour wait, then another 3 hour flight from Houston to Costa Rica, this time in a brand new B-757, with individual TV screens for each seat — better! Still, discomfort and indignities abound in 21st century air travel, like the officious jerk who removed every single one of about 40 objects in my backpack.
I got a room in a little hotel in a small town close to the airport because I was picking up my friend Chilón, who’s coming in from Mexico City tomorrow morning. I hit the streets, groggy from no sleep, but excited by how different everything was. Comfortably warm.
A lot of people in the central park, big very green trees and a deafening din of birds. Two serapé-wrapped Peruvian guys had recorded songs on a loudspeaker and were playing along with pan pipes. A lot of young lovers snuggling and nuzzling on the benches. Hey, it’s the tropics! People are relaxed.
Young punkish dude had a pet iguana and in a surly manner said OK to take pics, and that he’d had the iguana), which was a beautiful specimen) for 5 years. I walked over to the corner ice cream store, got an espresso milkshake, and went back in the park, and listened to Peruvian pan pipes playing a Beatles song.
I walked around for a couple of hours, reveling in the different landscape, and shot photos. As I was walking back to the hotel, two motorcycle cops came down the road on nimble and lightweight bikes, doing wheelies. Skateboarders doing incredibly graceful things on 4 little wheels…
In about an hour, Lesley is driving me to the Airporter, where I’ll catch a plane to Houston, then Costa Rica, where my friend Chil&oactue;n will join me and we’ll spend a few days in San Jose, then catch a $99 plane ride out to the southern Pacific coast. I’ve got surfing, swimming, hiking, shooting pix, exploring the tropical world on my agenda. As well as exploring with Chilón; we’ve been on many avventuras together in Baja: remote ranchos, small-town festivals, cave paintings, y mucho mas.
18 years ago I went the Caribbean side of Costa Rica.. I went from Puerto Viejo south to Manzanillo. From there a friend and I took a 2-day walk through the jungle and along the beach when possible, into Gandoca, a small town in Panama. I remember two things:
1. When we got to the town, it was a dirt road, and the dirt was brick red. It was raining softly. I looked down the road and thought, what if I just kept on going? See where it leads?
2. But I didn’t, and we went into the open air bar and sat there drinking beers. A big guy walked in, carrying a machete. No shirt, kind of sweaty, he’d been working.
“Come éstas?, he said.
“Bien, y tu?
“Tranquilo’
How great, when you ask a guy how he is and he says, “I’m tranquil.” It’s relaxed and friendly.
I actually love posting these blogs — it took a few years, but now it’s part of my fabric. I like telling people about what I find, because goldarnnit, I run across so much interesting stuff. Check here in about a week or so for La Costa Rica Avventura de Chilón y Lloyd…
We just got a postcard from Jacquie Phelan saying, “Love your boox!” I checked out her website & this photo caught my eye, it looks like one of the temple friezes at Angkor Wat. Here’s what Jacquie writes:
“Mumamel of Barcelona took this groovy pic! It’s at the Casa Macaya in Barcelona…There is something very comforting about the fact that someone (Josep Puig) designing and building a modern house would take the time to include in the facade a (carved? cast?) cyclist. Upon further research, I realize this Catalan architect was in perfect tune with his turn-of-the-century mood…when worldwide, the bicycle was extolled (or reviled) as a harbinger of progress, change, and ‘efficiency’. And women grabbed that tool so fast no one had any time to erect rules. When the motorcar came along, the patriarchy (and the heads of industry as well) were prepared to frame the car as a power symbol that women would willingly let their man steer. Do I sound biased?”
Here is Jacquie’s blog.
Here is the website of the Wombats (Womens’ Mountain Bike and Tea Society), which Jacquie founded).
This photo is on Flickr. Here’s what Wikipedia says about it: “Namba Parks was conceived as a large park, a natural intervention in Osaka’s dense urban condition. Alongside a 30-story tower, the project features a lifestyle commercial center crowned with a rooftop park that crosses multiple blocks while gradually ascending eight levels. In addition to providing a highly visible green component in a city where nature is sparse, the sloping park connects to the street, making it easy for passers-by to enter its groves of trees, clusters of rocks, cliffs, lawn, streams, waterfalls, ponds and outdoor terraces. Beneath the park, a canyon carves a path through specialty retail, entertainment and dining venues.”
Our friend Tom came by Saturday afternoon and told us he’d just found a baby Great White Shark down on the beach. He was pretty excited by it. “It’s like a pit bull,” he said. So yesterday just before sunset I went down and found it. By then it had been somewhat gutted by buzzards, but it was still an impressive little animal, a miniature version of one of the Pacific Ocean’s most powerful predators.
Michael “Bug” Deakin at his Heritage Salvage company in Petaluma, California. I just discovered this place last week. They have all kinds of reclaimed lumber, doors, windows columns. handcrafted furniture and slabs https://www.heritagesalvage.com/
I’ve been to visit Bill and Athena Steen (see below) three times at their strawbale building compound (at the end of a dirt road in the southern Arizona desert). I love going there. The Steens are kindred spirits; hospitality and good vibes abound. The first time I went there I saw this incredible clay sculpture of a woman (maybe 18″ high) perched on a low wall. It was startlingly alive. It was done by Athena’s sister, Roxanne Swentzell, and you can see more of these remarkable sculptures at:
https://www.roxanneswentzell.net/roxanne_swentzell_bio.htm When Bill and I exchange emails we often include a photo or two. He sent me this last week, saying it was a “…whimsical pueblo clown done by Athena’s sister Roxanne in celebration of the new era.”
