Thank God they had no interest in me. I might have been too weak to resist such a powerful distraction from my writing. I’ve come to this beach town called Samara to shut out the world and simply breath the clean WiFi air and write.
I have thousands of photos and dozens of stories I want write and post to the Great American Road Trip. I was too busy living the road trip to do all the writing. But now I’m a stranger in a quiet place striving to obtain the solitude to write.
During the past two days I’ve gone into my computer portal and back to the where the maiden voyage of the road trip began in Texas, New Orleans, Mississippi, Mobile Alabama and the Redneck Riviera of Florida. I recollected these places again and wrote about Â New Orleans, a live crucifixion, grown men playing with tanks, the fattest people in the world and the deep heart of Texas – Austin – where I found my Destiny and the road trip began.
I’m on a roll. I hope that for the next ten days nothing happens other than continual writing with only occasional breaks to sleep, eat, and take a stroll on the beach and perhaps a swim.
Since the start of the Great American Road Trip I’ve taken over 20,000 photos. As I review these photos I’m struck by how beautiful North America is – from the Florida Keys on one end to the San Juan Islands on the other. I’ve met an endless stream of fascinating people. Some even hopped on board and shared part of the road trip as “Fellow Travelers“. To see all these places and faces flash by in thousands of photos reminds me that our lives can be a fantastic movie that we write, direct, cast, star in and produce. Do you like the movie you’re producing? If not, consider rewriting the script or recasting the characters.
Samara is a perfect place to drop out, slow down and write. I’ve always loved Costa Rica, even its dark dysfunctional side. Like a migratory bird, I’ve been coming back here on and off for years. It’s a land of extreme contrasts ranging from the gorgeous to the horrendous. I love the drama of it all.
Those who know it only superficially as tourists and from marketing propaganda, imagine colorful coffee carts pulled by donkeys, lush green mountains and valleys and warm beaches. Such places do exist. But those who have lived here know the Costa Rica the tourism authorities would prefer you not see – with its parasitic crime, grungy shacks and three legged dogs. Costa Rica is Yin and it’s yang.
The Costa Ricans call themselves Ticos. They are typically very placid and non violent. They take great pride in having no army. The Ticos watch the tourists come and go, while they remain – largely unchanged. Very few Ticos leave Costa Rica. They are as content as the average American on a massive amount of Valium.
Costa Rica attracts dreamers. Some dream of finding paradise lost – free from the “rat race”, fluorescent lights, taxes and traffic jams. Â Some bald men with potbellies dream of hot Latin women who will worship them, cook for them and rub their feet at night. Some come looking for unspoiled natural beauty.
Some find what they are seeking. But most find that the dream was more illusion than reality. Some become disillusioned after they discover that corruption and insane traffic are even worse and that the women don’t really want to rub their feet after all.
The Ticos have a saying that the gringos who come to live in Costa Rica are either “Wanted” or unwanted. Perhaps to the content Ticos these seekers may seem desperate. These refuges may be chasing a dream or running from the law. But both are valid reasons to move to Costa Rica.
But do know, that since Eve got Adam to eat the apple, the perfect paradise has been lost – even in Costa Rica. It can’t be found in any one place any more than the fountain of youth. Once again and forever, we must find our paradise within no matter where we go or stay.
To learn more about the illusion of Costa Rica, visit their official Website.
To see the real Costa Rica, enjoy the below photos taken during my many past visits: