Kaplan - Pura Vida: Two Months in Central America

To swimming through the stars

Hello, and thank you for picking up this book. Before getting started, I just wanted to give some info regarding what you are about to read. You may know me personally, or perhaps your read one of my other books. Or maybe you just want to read a book about Central America.

This book covers a two month period, from February to April of 2015, when I traveled through Nicaragua, Costa Rica and Panama. What follows is a journal of my observations, frustrations, humor, enjoyments, and life in general while visiting Central America. I wrote about my time on the beach, leaving bags on busses, surfing in Costa Rica, getting in the ring with bulls, and meeting locals and fellow travelers along the way.

If you like the photos in this book, you can see the rest at .

My other books:

- 116 Days on the Road a book I wrote during a four month trip through Southeast Asia in 2014.

- Diary of a Uniballer is a book I wrote during my testicular cancer treatment in 2013.

Thanks and enjoy

Ben Kaplan

Nicaragua

Granada

Las Peitas

San Juan del Sur

Costa Rica

Tamarindo

Santa Teresa

Manuel Antonio

San Jose

Puerto Viejo

Panama

Bastimentos

Panama City

Part 1: Nicaragua

SFO to Nicaragua

Another adventure has begun. This time, as opposed to Asia, I am on the American side of the date line, as well as the American side of the equator. There isnt a good name for this foreign excursion yet, so I will have to work on that. It will begin in Nicaragua, go to Costa Rica, and then possibly finish in Panama, covering a time frame of roughly two months. Before even settling in to the amazing house we rented in Granada, Nicaragua, I experienced something I have never had to deal with before on all of my travels, which is a story I hope you enjoy.

Ready to roll

The trip started off as planned: a 12:40 am flight from SFO to Managua, Nicaragua via Mexico City. Traveling with my mom and brother, I checked in a bag and went to the gate where the flight was on time. We boarded and were in the air, flying south before 1 am. Unless you are a small child (or a small adult for that matter), sleeping on planes for more than an hour at a time is a near impossibility. I snuck in a few minutes here and there, but spent the majority of the four hour initial stretch mostly attempting to sleep. There was proof that I least dozed off for a bit: my neck had that familiar pain from being in an unnatural position for too long.

Our plane touched down in Mexico City, and, unfortunately, we needed to go through the full customs process even though we were never going to leave the airport. Good times. A line to check our passports and customs documents, and another security check before making it to the gate for a ninety minute layover before the final flight to Managua. While waiting, I enjoyed a huge donut with pink frosting and sprinkles that Homer Simpson would have loved.

Donut Time.

We left Mexico City on time, and I was given a view of the seemingly endless flat mega-city, with almost nothing green anywhere in sight. A large fog of pollution hung over the vast area where tens of millions of humans reside. From the air, it looked like a much larger version of District Nine: massive, crowded, flat, and no natural beauty. Our second flight was not very full, meaning both my mom and I had two seats to ourselves. Unfortunately, this must have been one of the first commercial jets ever created so the seats were old, small and not comfortable. Oh, well; just another two and a half hours and we would be at our final destination. I did my best to sneak in some more sleep, curling into what felt like several hundred different positions, each one just slightly uncomfortable enough to make me want to change it up and not be able to sleep.

After landing in Managua, we once again went through customs, paid our $10 each to enter the country, and made our way to the baggage claim. This is when I was in for the biggest surprise of my barely started trip. I waited for my bag. And waited some more. And then the carousel stopped moving. I asked one of the employees Es Todo? meaning, Thats everything? He responded with an affirmative. Fuck. While I was in Nicaragua, bag sure as hell wasnt there.

There was definitely a moment of panic, and I needed to sit down in silence for a few seconds to gather my thoughts. I had exactly zero clothes besides what I was wearing, and did a quick scroll in my head of everything I could think of that was in the missing bag, in case I didnt get it back and needed to repurchase most or all of the items. Thankfully, my important stuff was with me (electronics, camera, laptop), but my other shoes, flip flops, all my clothing, and all my toiletries were enjoying some tacos at the Mexico City Airport. Or maybe it was some churros.

Before landing in Nicaragua, I had a bad feeling about my bag not making it, and it turns out my suspicions were right. I was supposed to pick up my bag in Mexico City, take it through customs, recheck it, and then it would have joined me on the flight to Nicaragua, which was not explained to me in San Francisco. I had even asked if my bag was checked all the way through, and got a yes from the SFO employee which, turns out, was the exact opposite of correct. After using my very broken Spanish and my brothers better Spanish, we figured out that, yes, my bag was likely in Mexico City and I could probably pick it up the next day. Ok, I can definitely survive for a day wearing the same starting to stink clothes I had worn since I left San Francisco. I will just have to make another trip back to the airport, which is a small price to pay for every article of clothing I plan on wearing for two months.

It would not have been the end of the world if I could not get my bag at all, but it sure would have been a huge bummer, a large pain in the ass, and a pretty shitty way start a several month trip. Wearing all of my clothes that I diligently picked out is far superior than going shopping for everything on the streets of Nicaragua. After rocking the same t-shirt, underwear, socks, and shorts that I had been wearing for almost two days, I did in fact get my bag from the Managua airport the next day, so it really only ended up being a few extra bucks to go taxi back to el aeropuerto. My bag was waiting quietly and patiently next to a walker in the Aero Mexico office at the airport, and, while it was not a tearful reunion, but I sure was happy to see the fella. A lesson for everyone: if you stop through Mexico City, make sure to pick up your bag before going through customs.

The first stop of this trip is the city of Granada, which is about an hour south of Managua. Our house that we rented is spectacular: a four bed, four bath compound in the middle of the city with its own pool. It is one of the nicest places I have ever stayed in, and makes for an incredible oasis within the city at anytime of the day. The locals so far have been extremely friendly, the food is tasty and cheap, and the beers are even cheaper. Granada is a fairly quiet city, especially compared to what my expectations were before getting here. There are cars, motorcycles, horses, bikes, and humans criss-crossing the city, but it is nothing like places like Indonesia or Vietnam. Southeast Asia seems to have the upper hand when it comes to insane level of scooter ownership.