Weaving & Screaming

It is hard to describe the intensity of Costa Rica’s roads. A drive, no matter how short, requires stepping up your game. Patience helps with the exasperation which begins immediately once on the road. Multiple types of speeding vehicles share the narrow lanes made even narrower by strategically placed pot holes with the emphasis on the hole.

On one foray into the mountains, the Hyundai’s passenger side suspension bottomed out with such force that I was convinced the car would be inoperable. It kept going. After the first stop, I inspected the tires and rims. The forward tire had two bulges # six inches apart. The aft tire showed a 4cm gash radiating out from the rubber coated rim. They were functional but toast.

 

Most of the roads are shoulder less. If anything, there is a sheer V-trench made to syphon off the rainy season’s water. Not to belabor the point, but between the ups and downs, switch back ladened, too narrow for comfort asphalt there are fully loaded semi- trucks, young women pushing baby carriages, Tour de France clad bike riders, multiple sized utility vehicle barely able to climb the steep grade, speed racers of every type including motorcycles, gas powered bicycles, and scooters. Add to this a tractor or two and an errant cow, and well, you get the idea.

 

Costa Rica is stunning. Deep green valleys with picture perfect farms. An endless array of open air restaurants often perched on mountain precipices offering spectacular vistas. As the elevation rises, the architecture takes on a Germanic Black Forest vibe. Coffee plantations appear. Dairy cows graze in rich pastures, mountain tops and verdant valleys appear and disappear amongst the clouds.

 

At lower elevations the roads improve and so does the congestion. It is a free for all. On even the most substantial roadways buses indiscriminately stop traffic in the right lane. Accidents, toll booths, breakdowns, road repairs, congested off ramps, screaming weaving two wheelers, speed bumps and errant vendors require constant attention from the driver. As I was mainly the front seat passenger my right leg was sore from applying the brakes.

 

I am not sure why it is this intense. If there was a national ad campaign asking everyone to slow up by 5mph/7kph surely the polite and mild mannered citizens I have had the pleasure to meet would comply. But then I am living in the fantasy world of an aging white American guy.

 

My advice: find a beautiful Costa Rican destination and stay put, or at least don’t venture more then ten miles in any direction. Any greater distances will require a stiff drink and much soul searching before leaving your home away from home once again. Whatever you decide to do, good luck and may the force be with you!