Doug Guido
This particular morning was not unlike the beginning of any other day on this trip — completely ignorant of what lay ahead, but comforted by the casual ambivalence that youth provides. We were three guileless gringos, hitchhiking our way out of San Jose, Costa Rica on our way to the Caribbean port town of Puerto Limon. Guided by our ten-year-old National Geographic map, we were taking the “highway” from the capital to the coast, which turned out to be not a highway at all, but rather the most charming of roads, winding through hilly jungle interspersed with coffee plantations, called “fincas”. Now all we had to do was find some kind soul willing to share their transportation. I had learned that traveling with two young, attractive women, was helpful in this endeavor — we didn’t have to wait too long for a ride. On this particular morning, we were almost three months into the trip.
