Tamarindo

Weed? Cocaine? These are the first words we hear as we stepped out of our car upon arriving in the surfing and party hub of Tamarindo on the pacific coast of Costa Rica. Now this isn't the first time either of us had been offered drugs from a street dealer but never before has it been shouted from across the street in a busy town centre. It was instantly clear, the rules don't apply here in Tamarindo and whatever rules there are were created and will be enforced on the street.

It had a sinister vibe and I couldn't help but sense an agenda behind every smile as I walked down the street. Every local and ex-pat living this town was working their own hustle designed to fleece unsuspecting tourists for maximum profit before sending you home broke and bewildered to what just actually happened. Maybe there is a sad story and a tragic addiction behind every smile and hustle but whatever it was, I never felt genuinely welcome here. I knew my place here was to become someones next meal, snort or drink. I know I'm a walking wallet everywhere I'll go on this trip but it was different here.

We were certainly part of the tourist machine but that didn't matter right now, we had some drinking to do. When in Rome I guess....

In the end, it was an almost uneventful evening. We drank, we got drunk. There was one small near incident however. If there is one thing I can't stand in this world, it's line jumpers. When a young man had obviously pushed ahead of me at the bar, words had to be exchanged. I wasn't looking for a fight, I just let him politely know that his lack of manners had not gone un-noticed. At 6'2, I towered over this guy although he looked at me like I was just another ant to squash. Fuck, what have I got myself into.... His friend steps in and explains in good English explains that I really do not want to fight this guy. He was right, I didn't. My body was awakened by a shot of adrenalin as I slowly began to realize the stupidity of my actions. It looks like I had just pissed off a local gangster and likely cocaine dealer. Now I never threatened or insulted this guy but the very fact I had pulled him up on jumping the line obviously challenged him in front of his friends. I had to do some fast talking, some good fast talking. I extended my arm to shake his arm and used my best verbal asset immediately - Soy Australiano, soy Australiano (I am Australian). Not sure what that was meant to do but it seemed to turn his frown upside down. I smile, shook hands and promptly fucked off right out of there.

I think I'll just wait a little longer for my beer next time.

That was a night ender for me so I told Scott and Charlie that I was heading back to the hotel. Their parting words were "don't fall asleep in the taxi!" as Charlie had the misfortune of coming across a young female tourist who was raped in Mexico after taking a quick nap in the cab to awaken again high in the mountains. The poor girl, how terrifying that must have been.

After being circled by the local working girls, I step inside the cab and after negotiating the fare, the taxi driver turns to me and says in broken English "it's a long drive Sir, please put the seat back and close your eyes".

Here comes that adrenalin again.......