Popoyo afternoon glass

Winds were pretty onshore all morning making the first couple of surfs for the day more of a chore than a treat. But come afternoon, the water glassed off and some fun barrels showed face down the beach. We surfed until dark, only exiting the water when we couldn’t see our own hands any more.

Back at the Popoyo Loco, a pescado fiesta was in the works. The lads had bought a heap of fish, the girls up the road crafted up rice, salsa & salad and Grande Tona cervezas & Flora de Cana rum were on the chill.

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Popoyo bound

The journey from San Jose to Popoyo was massive - mentally prepared for 5 hours of travel, when 8 hours ticked over I was getting pretty off it! The final road out to Popoyo looked like something out of a warzone - craters, massive holes, rivers crossing the road. We were lucky our sedan taxi didn’t just drop down a sinkhole never to be seen again. Eventually getting in at Popoyo at 9pm, we got the tip from a couple of Brazilians that Popoyo Loco surf camp is the way to go - on the beach for $5. Walking through the hammock lined hallway, a pretty cool crew had taken up residence haling from Uruguay, Brazil, France, US, NZ, Italy, Germany and Austria.

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Do monkeys like bananas?

Slick Rick is probably the only living organism that likes bananas more than monkeys. Let it be a Balboa, let it be a Pilsen, the man is well known up and down the central american coastline for purchasing every last cerveza on sale in a store, all in the name of a wicked time. Do monkeys like bananas? Damn straight they do.

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Santa Teresa search

After 7 hours - 2 buses, 1 taxi, 1 ferry and 1 fuck up by Big Shoulders Lawrence we made it to Santa Teresa on the Nicola Peninsular. This little surf village stretches about 5km along one dirt road from Mal Pais, through Playa Carmen to Playa Santa Teresa. Like many of the breaks in Costa, Playa Carmen and Playa Santa Teresa are long beach breaks with peaks the whole way up each beach. We got there on the end of the swell so had a couple of days of heaving barrels/ closeouts and a couple days of beach break slush.

Other than the beachies there's a point break the lads hit up about a 40mins drive near Montezuma - the word post session was full of potential, but as it was lacking swell, the drive seemed like a waste of time. I missed the ride to the point by 5mins, which I was pretty pissed about. As a consolation, I solo checked out Playa Carmen, which to no surprise was a mess. Then to the south of Carmen, about 2 headlands away, I saw the faint makings of barrels breaking in front of a rock shelf. With ordinary surf everywhere else and nothing else to do, I set out on the trek to this mystery reef. 50 mins through my search I arrived at this rock platform that extended about 50 m from the headland. I hit the jackpot as the first set that rolled through unveiled a barrel breaking hard onto a rock ledge - about 5ft and drawing so much water it was about 2 foot below sea level. Other than a couple of fishing boats, I was the only one out. Shit yeah. Couple hours later right on sunset, I got out and made the trek back - I was at about 95% and alot more stoked on my session than the lads were on theirs.

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Iron chef

Been traveling a while? Feeling tired? Just realised you’ve been eating seafood the entire trip and no red meat? Contact Jam, your local Iron Chef for a carnivorous extravaganza.

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Almond tows

South Hermosa picks up alot more swell, and a spot called Almond Tree (which is conveniently out the front of an almond tree) is a sure bet if the winds are good. A few locals and seppos were out towing into some monster barrels.

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Almond tows

South Hermosa picks up alot more swell, and a spot called Almond Tree (which is conveniently out the front of an almond tree) is a sure bet if the winds are good. A few locals and seppos were out towing into some monster barrels.

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Chocolate barrels

You could count on a 2 hour downpour of rain every afternoon as the wet season unleashed on Hermosa. This maintained the waters lovely poo brown colour and texture. The storms also added a new element to the line up. Not only did you have to race sections of the 6-7 foot waves to make the barrel, but you also needed to navigate around and over 10 foot logs that were also trying their hand at surfing.

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Pescado fiesta dos

The US contingent returned with a solid haul of fish from their all day aquatic adventure. Combine that with about 10 red snapper we had already bought and there was enough food to sink a ship. There’s no such thing as too much fish, but no joke mackerels, snappers and jacks just kept coming off the grill like a production line.

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Playa Hermosa

News of a solid swell had us on a bus for Playa Hermosa. Even though the trip was only 3 hours, nap time set in across the board. Bad idea. Ricky’s bag got taxed while he snoozed with everything in it - including passport. Stoked levels plummeted while the Policia wrote a report, only thing we could do is get to Hermosa stat and treat ourselves to waves.

Cool set up at Hermosa, all the houses and surf hostels are right on the beach - metres away from barrels. Playa Hermosa stretches for about 10km with tones of peaks the whole way up the beach. The more south you go, the more swell it picks up. Crowds aren’t really an issue - if a peak starts to get a few on it, just paddle or walk to the next one. The place has a pretty chilled out vibe but with a mix of locals, seppos who have settled in the place and traveling surfers inhabiting the coastline.

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San Jose

We had 3 stops in San Jose as we transited to different surf spots - epic to party, but the place is pretty full on. As with the rest of Costa Rica, San Jose has a huge US influence from musical tastes, fashion to fast food outlets. Good in a way, as you’re assured of any supplies/ gear you need. Bad in that things are shit expensive (sometimes more expensive than the US) and the western influence largely diluted any traditional culture.

 

So in transit we pretty much sussed out upcoming swells for our next destination on the net and partied hard. We hit up El Puablo a couple of times - a full on local Tico’s nightspot. First time we were there there was not another gringo in the entire complex (15 bars and nightclubs). Again our shady Espanoil came into play as we worked with what little we had to make the local ladies smile. Midway through the night Jim had lost his face and most control of what he was doing. As he was the only white boy in the entire place and super loose, I had to step up and become his personal security detail. Seems like a regular occurrence on this tour. Cutting some rug and hammering a few more beers, we set off for the Blue Marlin Casino - a special place which Goldy had urged us to check out.

 

Upon entering the massive woodern doors we cast our eyes around the gaming floor. The place is thriving with amazing bootylicious Tica girls. I saw a Jessica Alba Tica, an Angelina Jolie Tica. Turns out every single girl in the place is on the job, feeding on gringo success. After a few beers and a few wholesome conversations with the nice ladies, Jim and I got down to business on the black jack table. We were killing the hands for a while before the dealer started to get up on us. He was an angry little bastard so I felt quite good when I cleaned him out and bailed without throwing a tip. Nice.

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Deck flavoured beers

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Recovery session

Sleep is amazing. I’m glad I got 3 hours this morning. Big shoulders Lawrence got the ball rolling at 8am to go and do an island tour by boat. With varying levels of enthusiasm and a few swearwords, we were on the boat on setting of. Even though I was crazy tired from the 2 day fiesta, I’m glad I got out of our crack den of a room.

Checking out one of the reefs. Teeming with fish and crazy looking coral.

Red frog beach - rock jumps, burger huts by the beach and crystal clear water to recharge the batteries.

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Tour de Bocas

I slept for no more than an hour before I had 6 bright eyed possums on my bed excited about the days developments. “We’re a bike gang, we just hired a heap of lowrider bikes” “We doing to Tour de Bocas!” Before setting off we needed our Bocas continental breakfast - Beers and Caprihenia’s, jammed packed with nutrients - perfect way to start the day. The locals say the best way to see the island is by bike, so instead of laying in bed with a hangover, we were loose by 8am and set off along to coastline to Bluff Beach.

Arriving at Bluff we spent the day chilling - swimming crystal Caribbean waters, sipping on Caribbean rum and navigating the ‘Survivor Panama’ gear they had erected for the new series. Next to were we had set up camp, these amazing looking ladies were outstretched taking in some rays. Looking definitely like latino girls (who go mad over an Aussie accent), I got over there to see how things would pan out. Turns out they’re Israeli girls - sure why not. They spoke okay english and we chatted for a good 20mins, pretty stoked on each other. Realising we hadn’t actually exchanged names we went ahead. “My name’s Jamil...” to which on of the girls replied “Thats an Arabic name yes?”. Turns out they’re all Hebrew. The mood suddenly went cold. Game over.

We spit into teams for the last leg home - England V Australia. Stopping at a bar overlooking one of the beaching, we topped off energy levels and strategised. At this point a few bit of trash talking was going on - led by Taylor, I’ve never heard someone talk up and be so confident about his riding. Such emotion. Such passion. Pity he had a chain blowout 1km into the race. Luckily the rasta dude we hired bikes off was worried about us, and rode around the island to make sure we hadn’t gotten lost/ kidnapped/ sold the bikes for beers. Eventually getting back to the hostel, it was time to prep up for fiesta and do it all over again.

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Firing at La Punta

No-ones on it...

... Cheers Dunc

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Wednesday at Aqua Lounge

With the temperature almost pushing 35 degrees, our only refuge was the Hotel Heike treehouse roof to watch the sun go down and treat ourselves to a bunch of cervezas, couple litres of caribbean rum, a litre of vodka and the sounds of Soulwax. Being a Wednesday night, Aqua Lounge was the destination for party girls and party boys, with free drinks for ladies being a drawcard for both sexes.

Well under the influence, we rounded up a handful of pretty ladies to come and dazzle on the DF for a ‘so you think you can dance’ like show down of epic proportions. To cool off from all the twirling and fist pumping action, there was a 2 story driving platform into the water, right in the middle of the bar. Perfect to take that special girl for a middnight swim. The memory is a little sketchy on this night - after we dominated the 'VIP' service with a couple bottles of vodka things once again stepped up. There was a fight club, a few girls, the Santa Cruz incident, Michael Phelps and some kitchen acrobatics. In the end, I’d score our efforts an 8/10 for this night.

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Torrential travel

We’ve done well picking the days to travel. As we were busing to David, again the rain was having its way with Panama. Getting into David we stayed the night at The Purple House - recommended by Lonely Planet, but not me. The chick who runs this place is a full on nutter, has a fetish with the colour purple and her shit dog “Cutsie”. Every inch of the place had a sign on it outlining what you can’t do, it felt like I was intruding in a special learning classroom, not a backpackers hostel. I was scared for Taylor - he was wearing a purple hat. I could picture him waking up in the morning in shackles, with this chick throwing a bucket of water on his face. All in all, stay somewhere else.

Rising early we hopped on a 4 hour bus to Almirante, then a water taxi to Bocas for what would be a unique visit to the island...

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24 Eggs with the Blonde Bullet

After a night on the town in Myrtle Beach, we returned to The Palace only to discover that the Blonde Bullet had not consumed his recommended dietary intake of eggs for that day. Worried our good friend was not servicing his body properly, we dished up 24 eggs for a scrambled extravaganza.

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Deep in thought

Ancestral ties to pirates and a fascination of Pythagoras's theorem - Raphael Venn

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Santa Catalina Surfpoint

Our whole crew were pretty stoked on this place. An awesome find and a place I’ll definitely stay at when I’m back in Santa Catalina. The surfcamp has only been open for business for a couple of months, but they do have things sorted and big plans for the future. Right on the beach at Estero, 10 min walk from La Punta, 15min walk to Punta Brava, a cool restaurant overlooking the beach, and space to throw up hammoks or a tent if you want to do it cheaply. $13 a night locked you into a room with aircon and breakie, but the thing that set this place apart was the hospitality. The whole family went out of their way to make our stay awesome. From giving us lifts to town, letting us party hard (and joining in) to giving us solid intel on Panama. Big thanks to the crew at Surfpoint and we’ll see you next year.

Check out their Facebook page and go and stay if you head to Panama. Email for reservations: santacatalinasurfpoint@gmail.com

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Aussie rescue

We’d just got back from a surf at La Punta in the morning and it started the bucket down. Eating a few chocolate crepes for breakie, we watched over the beach spotted a brand new Nissan Ute fast approaching the creek on out going tide. Although the creek may seem quite shallow, until dead low tide there is still a heap of water in it. Like a skater attacking a half pipe, the Nissan dropped in on the creek wall, coming to full stop. Everyone eating breakie lost their shit with laughter. Things got worse for the family in the Nissan, as the truck acted at wall in the creek creating a stationary wave which began breaking over it. Aussies to the rescue! Packing a scrum behind Nissan, we pushing as a 4x4 on the beach tried to winch it out. About 10 mins in the truck was finally out, but totally waterlogged. Chips and cans of drink floating around in the cabin.

The next day, the dad turned up to our hostel in a new hire car and 6 cases of beer for our efforts. Right on.

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