An Australian in Costa Rica

Part Nine

So I know its been a while. Life here has been really hectic. Family have been to visit, new friends have come and gone, and I have become more accustomed to living in Costa Rica!

A couple of weeks ago I went to San Jose to buy a bike. A friend of mine told me that the bike store was at a certain place, which it wasnt and so after three hours of wandering around a very hot San Jose, I finally found a bike store. Tired, very hungover and dehydrated I stumbled into the store and literally, and in a very blonde like manner, bought the first bike I saw.

Afterwards I went to the bus station to buy my ticket back to Garza and to check if I could actually bring my new bike with me on the bus. Certainly, they said, but in peices. Oh oh, I had bought bike all put together and had no idea how to take it apart. So they told me to bring it in, and they would try to pull it apart for me.

The next morning I wake, up and the baggage handlers are waiting for me. Where are your tools they asked? Umm, I havent got any tools. Anyway to cut a long story shoprt they found some tools, pulled the bike apart and put it on the bus for me.

Seven hours later, me an bike arrived in Garza all safe and sound (the bike still in pieces) and I took to my local bar, where the manager is also a mechanic. Everyone I know at this point is at the bar watching it get fixed, when all of a sudden the mechanic yells PLASTIC PEDALS!° WHAT KIND OF IDIOT WOULD BUY A BIKE WITH PLASTIC PEDALS???

Everyone starts laughing at me at this point, and another person points out the lettering on the side of my bright blue bike which in BRIGHT yellow says THUNDER. Yeah, he chortles, and who would buy a bike named THUNDER! Ha ha, he continues, only someone from . . . yep you guessed it . . DOWN UNDER!!!

Sure enough the next day I get on my bike to ride to the next town, and 500 metres out of Garza, the pedal falls off, and I gash open my leg. So I come back to the bar the next night, and they fix my bicycle for me, buy me a beer for my leg, and proceed to spend the next three hours laughing at me, but ensure me that the pedal is now fixed.

Not even 300 metres out of town, and the pedal falls off. So I am in the bar, everyone laughing at me again, and a neighbour walks in with superglue. He sticks my pedals back, and tells me that not even God could get the pedal off this time.

I walk in the bar the next day waving the pedal proclaiming Im god.

So it is established that Thunder needs new pedals, and that in the meantime I can borrow the barmaids bike to go to the next town. So I am riding along on her bike, and I manage to get to my destination and back a couple of time until. . .

I am riding down a fairly steep hill, and think thats funny - the steering is a bit loose. So I keep going hoping that I am going to make it to the next town, and as I try to stear one way the handle bars literally lift off the bike and I ride smackbang into the side of a mountain!

Meanwhile, some friends of mine from San Jose have tried to fix Thunder, proclaim they have suceeded and are all using my bike. They ride for hours on my bike. I personally think that they are suicidal, but they dont seem to mind the risk, and after a week, I decide that maybe it could be fixed and get on.

I dont make it past the driveway.

Anyway its now been a couple of weeks since I have been on a bike, and the pedals have now been replaced on Thunder. I am slightly wary of riding a bike and have been walking everywhere. However today is the big day! Wish me luck!

We wrote a song to commemorate the bicycle:

I come from a land down under
And my bike, it’s name is thunder
you better watch out
you better take cover
cos here I come with my bike thunder!