Road Trip to Mal Pais

So after sitting around for a week, we decided it was time to venture off and see another beach. We consulted the travel book and found a small beach town called Montezuma that might be interesting, but after further reading decided to keep looking. Apparently the author of this travel book found the occupants of Montezuma a little less friendly and somewhat an “herbal” group. She wrote of a group of Rastafarian’s selling hash pipes and wondering around looking for a wave to ride.

So we decided to try a small town called “Mal Pais” (pronounced “Mall Pies” meaning “Bad Country” referring to volcanic soil). From our readings it sounded like a nice beach town with a couple of restaurants, shops, a grocery store, a gas station and not too far way.  Loaded up El Haut Rad and headed out around 10am. We had heard from the Enterprise mechanic (the one that had to replace our battery in El Haut Rad) that the drive was about 1.5hrs., mostly because there is a dirt road part of the way. Not that a dirt road worries us, can’t be all that bad, we have a dirt road going into our place back in Colorado. As a kid we used to make dirt pies. Why hell I even got dirty once while working, contrary to popular belief. Well now I know why the grocery stores have part of an isle dedicated to dental cement. To call these “roads” is like calling is like calling Jeffery Dahmer a friend, no way! These trails were first created when dinosaurs crosses the country and haven’t been changed or improved in any way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We were prepared. We brought Carmen the Garmin with us and plotted out our route the night before so we were ready to tough it through the jungle. Must have missed a sign somewhere along the way because we had driven for about 2hrs and no Mal Pais. We did find a nice, cool river that had a sign that instructed us to check the depth before crossing. Uh, not happening! We turned around and decided the Rastafarians might not be so bad, back to Montezuma.

 

 

 

On the way to Rastaville we noticed a little white sign, probably 30 or 40 minutes from the river, leaning over ever so slightly with an arrow pointing down a road to our right that read “Mal Pais” 10Km. See, told you it was this way!

Another dirt dinosaur path and soon we arrive at it. Beautiful beach, waves, street vendors selling trinkets and coconut milk to the tourists, and an open air restaurant right on the beach. We’re here! Damn good thing, getting hungry and thirsty, time for a bite and an Imperial (beer).

 

 

The restaurant is called “Pizzeria Playa Carmen”. Pizza was good, could have been a little hotter but close enough, the beer was cold and so was the water. Nice little place that probably gets very crowded on the weekends and during high season, not the high season that the Rastafarians celebrate, the tourist high season. About the only complaint was the waiter, angry man in the wrong job. He was not pleasant and not just to the whiteys, he didn’t like anyone. Still, food was fine, beer was cold and the scenery was excellent.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Time to head for the homestead. Still needed to hit the grocery store and gas station in Cobano. Hit up the Mega Super in Cobano for some basics, wine and vodka, and a few things to eat.  Nice store with fresh produce, good selection of chicken and beef with well stocked shelves, and wine and vodka.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Next stop, gas station.  Collette and I both thought we saw a gas station just outside Tambor, nope must have been somewhere else.  Tambor, by the way, has a very nice golf course, dive center and what looks to be expensive homes.  A round of golf with a cart (required) and rental clubs runs about $140.00USD.  Well, we must have missed a sign somewhere along the way because we ended up in Paquera, down by the ferry. One good thing, no more road so we can’t keep going the wrong way! Shoulda turned left insteada turning right. Got it! On the way back we noticed a little white sign, leaning over ever so slightly with an arrow pointing down a road that read “Mal Pais”, not the way we wanted to go so we consulted the all-knowing, all-seeing Carmin the Garmin. In a soft voice she spoke to us, turn right and if I have to recalculate one more time, I’ll drive you off a cliff!

Good news is Paquera has a gas station so time to fill up El Haut Rad. Down here they still pump gas for you so in our best Spanglish, fill’er up with regular, por favor. Gas is expensive here. To fill up the car, about ¾ of a tank, costs $40.00USD. Best to find a station if you’re at ¼ tank because it may take ¼ of a tank to reach the station, they’re scarcer than friends on moving day.

Loaded up, gassed up, and now on the right dinosaur trail so head for home.  Made it with a little time to spare before sundown, my personal curfew on driving. Unloaded the groceries, poured a glass of wine and reset my fillings just in time to have one final dip in the pool before dark. Damn fun day. Thursday we plan to head to Puntarenas via the ferry, that is after I duct tape the car back together.

Few photos of the area.