Costa Rica - Montazuma

I had been given a recommendation to visit Montezuma at the bottom of the Nicoya Peninsula so I did a 300km plus ride through some picturesque country including 40km of poor quality dirt road that didn’t appear on the map as such. 

Along the way I felt my luggage shift so stopped to adjust it and realised that my raincoat and pants had fallen off from where I strap them. I backtracked some 20km without success, was stopped by the police for a licence and passport check, stopped into a small town and offered some local youngsters a reward to locate my raincoat, but nothing. Here I was in the wettest country of my trip so far, in the wettest month of the year, without a raincoat and no access to money to replace it. I was starting to feel that all of my gear was abandoning me. 

The loss tarnished the rest of my day’s ride, which ended with heavy rain threatening as I pulled into the small town of Paquera. There was only one option for a hotel and it was quite expensive, being a Saturday night and busy. I pulled the bike around the back as the heavens opened up. I was grateful I had decided to stop.

I was doing some serious soul searching now. I had been in such a great mood for weeks and that bubble was burst with the robbery of my money and cards. Now with the failure of the bank to deliver, more loss of gear and daily rain getting heavier and more frequent I was feeling a bit beat up and starting to question my whole intuitive travel ideals. I guess these are the times that become the defining moments. I have had my share of adversity and I had come through to create a life better than ever. Hell I’ve even written a book on dealing with adversity!

I had to change my way of thinking. I was thinking like a victim and letting circumstances dictate how I felt and in turn that, I believe, influences what happens to me. I made a decision to put all of these circumstances into perspective. I am travelling around the world by motorcycle, living my dream, doing something that I feel is a great privilege. My cards will be replaced, some of my money will be covered by travel insurance, replacing my wet weather gear will cost less than $100. Over the last three weeks that I have been waiting, five of my fellow motorcycle adventurers have been knocked off their motorcycles by cars in different countries. Three were uninjured but had their bikes damaged and in need of repair; a young Australian guy was killed outright in the US when hit by a vehicle and a retired Aussie rider in France was hospitalised with bleeding to the brain and multiple fractures when he was hit by a van in front of his wife on a second bike.

In comparison, having to wait a few weeks for some replacement items is nothing and in fact being such wet weather, it may be a forced stop that’s keeping me safe and off the road for the moment. Who knows. Whatever the reason I changed my perspective.

In the morning I was ready for another 25km of gravel road of varying quality and when the tar continued beyond a kilometre from the town, I started hoping it would last for just 10kms of the trip. The rain had gone and the road was mostly dry. The tar continued, winding through lush rainforest, 

over a bridge that had recently had the river overflow 

and around the edge of the peninsular with the occasional turnoff to a resort, a park, a turtle sanctuary. Eventually I rode into the busy little town of Cobano and turned towards Montezuma. There were 10kms of gravel winding through the hills before the final descent into the quaint little township. I parked and ordered a coffee at a small bar right on the main intersection and got a feel of the place.

Montezuma was sleepy and quiet in this off-season period with a few tourists, a few local guys offering weed and handmade jewellery, and people from the surrounding hills arriving in an assortment of cars, small motorcycles and quad bikes. 

I decided I would prefer to be a little out of the township and I found a nice little hotel right on the beach less than one kilometre from the town centre with a basic and small private room at $10 a night. Hotel Lucy. Perfect. 

There was no undercover parking for Ziggy but there was a carpark surrounded by a hedge that hid her from passing foot and vehicle traffic and with the cover she disappeared from sight.

I stayed a week, sitting out the daily downpours of the wet season,

walks along the beach 

and to the waterfall nearby 

and into town for a meal or a coffee. 

The local guys stopped trying to sell to me after a couple of days and I enjoyed a nice tranquil period of time. There was a flow of travellers at the hotel and I met some interesting people from several different countries. One morning I heard the sound of two adventure bikes passing and I followed them up the road. They were two couples from Canada on rented GS800s. 

We caught up for a meal and travel talk. Eventually I opted for a change in scenery and decided to head to Monteverde in the mountains.