Player Dominical

Dominical for the weekend, we couldn’t wait! Hayley, Rachel, Kendy and I had planned a great get-away to clear our heads, have fun and work on our tan. As Hayley and I had to teach on Friday morning we were unable to catch the only direct bus to Playa Dominica’s nearest city, San Isidro. Instead we had to make our way into San Jose and then to San Isidro. We arrived in San Jose late as the traffic was horrific and so had to jump in a taxi to the other bus station across town, we only had fifteen minutes. With cars bumper to bumper, I watched as the tariff increased and the clock count down. Despite the best efforts of the driver, we missed our bus so had to catch the later one. Hours later, after a numb butt and dead legs we arrived, however unfortunately, this was not our final destination; we were still about an hour away from the beach. As we were so behind schedule, when we arrived in San Isidro, we found that all busses had stopped for the day; ‘great’ we thought, ‘we’ll have to spend the night’. Argentina
We walked around the city in the dark, past bars, fast food restaurants and ‘hombre’s hollering at us’. Then out of nowhere popped a guy offering us a taxi to Dominical for only £20, without a second thought we jumped in, anything to get us out of the grubby city and to the beach. He sped around the mountains and down the highway, not going to lie I was a little scared; I genuinely think he was a worse driver then me. However we got there none the less, and in the record time of half an hour. Our taxi pulled up at our Hostel, we could not have asked for a better timing. As we walked in our friends Rachel and Kendy were already there, ready and raring to go. ‘Let’s go out’ they called as they shoved the flyers for a neon reggae night under our noses. We were up for anything, we were just so excited to be there and not stuck in some random city for the night. We got dressed up and headed out.
Well we didn’t end up heading to the reggae night as the atmosphere looked dull and they were charging ridiculous prices to get in. Come on, it’s Costa Rica not New York! So whilst we were walking around trying to find somewhere else to go, we stumbled upon a bar playing salsa music; a few drinks and a bit of dancing was exactly what we needed. Although, I did find out that despite my best efforts I was hopeless at Salsa, I think lessons are in order. This was the night we first met ‘Princessa’, well what can I say, I think the pictures explain it all… He was a drugged up man who walked the few bars in Dominical every night looking for a party; did I mention he wears the same fairy costume every night…? And I though the lady in Copey who dresses her dog in a jumper was about as bizarre as they got in these parts, apparently not.
The next day we woke early and headed down to Domincalita, a small beach a little further down. Before our arrival we had been told about this hidden waterfall, one in which only few people knew about, the trees hid it away from the tourist eye. We went in search of the secret falls and after climbing hills and crossing bridges we discovered it deep in the woods. The water cascaded from large rocks about 100ft high and as I dipped my feet in the crystal clear water, fish surrounded them and nibbled at my toes. Even the group of guys mucking around swinging from the rope swing failed to ruin its hypnotising tranquillity.
We couldn’t wait to emerge ourselves; we stripped down straight away and dived in. Hayley was the first of us to take the plunge from the rope swing into the water. It’s a good job she is teaching children and is not a diver, haha! I can’t judge though, my swings were no way near what one would class as graceful. I think one of them can be described as nothing less than a spectacular belly flop. We stayed for a couple of hours than headed to the beach. Wow, I don’t think I had ever seen a beach more deserted. At the top stood a single ice cream vender and on the sand, a single group of what seemed like friends; this was very different to the overcrowded stony beaches of the British coast line that I was so accustomed to. Even when I had visited the beautiful sands of Limon, it had been over populated.
The cloud shielded the scorching sun, but somehow we all still managed to burn, damn it! After sufficiently baking for a few hours, we walked around the local market, chatting to a variety of people and trying to make them deals on their beautiful, however overpriced merchandise. One lady who was selling a selection of homemade cakes told us about how she made her living solely going from place to place selling cakes; could you imagine her in the UK, more so, London.
After resting at the hostel for a few hours we got ready and made the finest cuisine money could buy accompanied by a local drink delicacy; After our cuisine of Ramin noodles and $2 white rum we headed for the local club, luckily we were accompanied by two of the guys who worked at the hostel because we had to walk down the side of a highway to get to it. However when we arrived it was well worth it, the music, the atmosphere and ‘Princesser’ were buzzing. What a brilliant night!
The next morning, after both Alka-Seltzer and Resolve we had breakfast and headed for the bus home. Wow, what a killer trip! Let’s hope it can be replicated again soon.