Living Life In Costa Rica Part 9: The Bite

After 5 relaxing days in the picturesque beach town of Sámara, it was time to move on to yet another destination. All I knew back then was that I would be spending a month in a wooden cabin in a village called Los Pargos. When I mentioned this place to locals and they didn’t immediately knew what I was talking about, I probably should’ve known that I was in for an adventure.

To me, it had seemed like just another town located along the Pacific Coast, which I had (wrongly) assumed were all quite touristy. Turns out, Los Pargos is so off the grid even Costa Rican taxi drivers weren’t aware of its existence.

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Needless to say, getting their by public bus was an even bigger challenge. My friend and I decided to get as close as possible and just figure it out along the way (living on the edge, I know). We ended up taking the bus from Sámara to Nicoya, where we took another bus to Santa Cruz. In Santa Cruz, 2 police officers on bikes guided us to a bus stop (must’ve been a funny sight) where we could hop on the last bus to Playa Negra.

By then, we’d figured out that locals know Los Pargos as Playa Negra, which is actually quite famous for its surf break. They even shot a low-budget surfing movie there called “Endless Summer 2”.

We soon left the busy town of Santa Cruz behind us and were surrounded again by fields and hills. I saw the houses diminish by the minute. The moment the asphalt road became a dirt road and I hadn’t seen another house for about 15 minutes, I became just a tad worried.

Where will I end up this time?

Off the beaten path would be the official term and correct answer. The reason Costa Ricans don’t know about Los Pargos is because it is almost non-existent. It can only be reached by dirt roads and there are no more than a few hundreds of local inhabitants.

On the last portion of our trip, our bus got stuck because they were working on the road. The bus driver, clearly frustrated, told us to get off. So, there I was, in the middle of absolutely nowhere, with a heavy backpack and hardly any water, with no other choice than to start walking in the direction our driver had pointed to.

It was just me, my travel companion and an older lady.

We walked for a while until we reached another construction site. They were demolishing the road and there were lots of loose, sharp rocks laying around. We skipped over them with our flip flops and hurried past the noise. In doing so, I felt a sharp sting in my toe.

I examined my foot and saw two red dots. Oh no. Something bit me and I had no idea what it was. I immediately recalled a horror story my parents had repeatedly told me about a girl who’d nearly died this way had she not been picked up by a helicopter and dropped off at the nearest hospital.

My attempts to stay calm failed miserably, as I thought of all the deadly creatures Costa Rica is home to. My panicky brain could think of only one solution: someone had to suck out the poison. I started pressing my friend to do it. He obviously wasn’t keen on the idea. However, I was convinced it was the only thing that could prevent my untimely death. I kept insisting and eventually he caved. If that isn’t friendship I don’t know what is…

I was fine in the end. Who knows, maybe my friend saved my life. Or maybe – and a lot more likely – he sucked my sweaty toe for nothing.

Want to keep up with my adventures in Costa Rica? Read my first diary entry here!

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