(Which of these shots “doesn’t go”; but does ’cause it’s on the wall?)
Here is my newly-discovered Costa Rican destination resort, The Fauna Luxury Hostel in San Jose, Costa Rica, just an hour from the airport. It is so easy to meet people in hostels
I have made all of these wonderful friends in just one week! Imagine that!
I’ve extended my stay in the Fauna Luxury Hostel in San Jose, Costa Rica for another two weeks. This hostel puts no limits on one’s timeframe, contrary to most; so, some guests stay for months. Here’s why:
This colorful inner patio contains ping-pong and pool tables and this glorious mural. It’s an outdoor lobby leading to all rooms, the bar and huge dining room/cafe, and our hostel kitchen. My 5-bunk dorm room has the new-fashion cubicle bunks. We each get a comfy, wooden box with a descending curtain for darkness and privacy. I haven’t seen the private rooms yet but maybe I can get some shots of those too. My dorm bed costs $13 a night but the ensuite privates are only $35 to $50. All including breakfast. Such a deal!
After finishing my six-weeks of petsitting in San Isidro de Grecia, I returned to Costa Rica’s capital, San Jose. Fortune certainly smiled on me when I selected the Fauna Luxury Hostel out of a long list on Hostelword.com. This is, by far, the BEST hostel I have ever stayed in! And, I have stayed in hundreds all over the world by now. Here are pictures to prove my point:Lobby and Front Desk
I haven’t published any exciting details of my life here in Grecia, Costa Rica, housesitting and petsitting for a lovely and lively young doggie, Cara. My excuse is a good one, however. While I temporarily settle into a quiet, suburban expat life in a modern community; I am finally able to cope with an enormous editing/writing project that I couldn’t have done within my parapatetic traveling life.
I brought about 40 handwritten journals of my recent travels, which also contain details of my most-unusual inner, psychic life. My sister almost threw them in the dump when this journal collection landed on her plate but agreed to hold off until I arrived. I’m sure this is typical of most psychic’s relatives.
Since dogs are not the best conversationalists, we petsitters know to equipe ourselves with time-fillers: paperbacks or online haunts and duties. Or old journals to tear apart according to topic and then to retype for online distribution. That’s where I am now. Cara has my presence fulltime! Though, can you believe? She STILL competes for my attention with my computer!!! An egomaniacal young doggie! I try not to encourage that ego buildup.
Anyway, I’ll have these jounals gutted by the time her owner, Kathy, returns; and maybe I’ll rent a cabin on the beach to type them up? Or I’ll take a break and finish in the next spot I land in? My life is sooo flexible! It’s certainly an advantage to fashion ones’ self as a writer. Because that very designation identifies you as an analyzer who writes about what you discern under the covers: maybe, a dog’s influence upon your life? I hope my input is of a higher quality!!!
So, thanks to this dog, I have set a goal for myself that keeps me on target to keep winnowing my journals. Naturally, I’m creating more diaries as I go; but trying not to be so loquacious.
Can you say that about the animal in your life?
It’s 2019 and I’m petsitting in Costa Rica and using my day’s full of downtime to cull my old journals for excellent blogging material. Here’s one written in Slovenia, Eastern Europe in 2005: I was 64 years old.
“As I pass through the world’s hostels, I’ll try to describe how life is in them. This hostel is very quiet and cordial, with young, hands-on owners. Everyone speaks English and will help with enthusiastic advice; as will the ever-changing, full compliment of guests, who all seem to be from Australia, Canada or England. Young professionals: teachers, nurses and doctoral candidates. One man spent three weeks in Irkutsk, Russia, as part of his PhD work. Eleven years ago, I was in that same beautiful region of Lake Baikal, Siberia, leading US/USSR group tours for almost a month. I must get back there, someday!
The subject of one’s travels is usually the first thing we all talk about: Where you’ve just been and where you are headed, It’s at these times that I realize what a Road Warrior I really am, because my experiences often rank me equal, or senior, to them and this is surely why they don’t see me as representing my age; but, as simply, a fellow traveler.
Now, what’s it like to sleep in an eight-bunk, mixed dormitory room witb fifteen other men and women sleeping all around you? Just fine! Mutual consideration makes it work out. Even having just one toilet room… with only one toilet. And another shower room, with one shower and no toilet…is managed very easily. Though, it helps to rise early, as I did today.
Everyone else was out until midnight and I turned in at 10:30 p.m. But,I barely heard them come in.
This hostel is similar, in principle, to those in Nicaragua, which I enjoyed so much. Those cost only $3 to $6 a nigbt, compared to $27 here; but that reflects each country’s economy. The Central American ones all had FAR more toilets and showers; but the friendly, welcoming ambiance was just the same. As were the backpackers, themselves.
People of my generation are probably stuck in the Hippie mentality, as far as their impression of backpacking goes. I was, until I met this serious evolution of “under-the-radar” traveler. They are lovely, lovely, highly-educated, very-considerate men and women, who behave like brothers and sisters of one another.
All are naturally attractive, clean-cut, fit, and in good health. Everyone sleeps in loose,
comfortable clothing: shorts, tee shirts, mumus or sundresses. No one talks in the dorm room after the first person turns in and it’s reading lights only. I always curtain my lower bunk sides with sarongs; simply for darkness, rather than modesty or privacy.
Now, a brief look beyond the hostel walls! I just saw a traditional Babushka, a granny, standing in tbe hot sun, bundled in sweater, skirt, a head scarf and heavy knit stockings. It would probably be immodest to wear anything less. She had the stocky, square peasant’s body and was either my age or younger. Otherwise, all people here are leading the fashion parade.
Such a clean city! With good sidewalks! Everything is under repair here, with none of the poverty I found in Central America. Slovenia is known as the richest portion of Old Yugoslavia. The land is not suited for agriculture, so it has become the center of industry, learning and finance.
I highly recommend this whole, less-traveled, anciently-civilized region!
I am now happily ensconced in a lovely, modern home in Grecia, Costa Rica; takibg care of Cara, a young and very exuberant, middle-sized doggie, while her owner, Kathy, is in The States visiting family. Cara is the main reason I’m here, but I also keep the house occupied during the many weeks of its owner’s absence. This is a win-win situation for everyone.
I get to live in a foreign country as an expat, at no cost except my food and the incoming and outgoing transportation to Costa Rica. Americans get a 90-day visa at the border, which can be renewed by exiting znd re-entering.
Kathy has the peace-of-mind of knowing that her precious child is safe and happy and not “imprisoned” in a boarding kennel at great expense. I get to indulge my love for dogs and to spend many long hours culling my accumulated journals in order to write my next book. These many journals contain twenty-years’ worth of wisdom and forgotten adventures and fill a medium suitcase. It’s about time I took them off my sister’s hands and relived my “most adventourous traveling life”. So, days are being filled with research, cutting the valuable pages out and tossing the rest. All in the company of a sleeping dog.
I’d sleep too, if I had romped so exuberantly with Little Man, next door, during our walk this morning! Our immediate neighborhood consists of eight lovely homes each surrounded by a landscaped lawn, on a dedicated, gated street.
Originally, all of this property was owned by one Tico family with seven daughters. As the girls grew, Mom and Pop, who still live here in the family home, built each one of them their own house, up and down this street. By now, even the next generation of their grandchildren are raised and gone but most of those daughters and spouses still live here. A few have sold, and a few rent theirs out, like this one to Kathy, but this is still a delightful, family enclave.
They all have keys to each other’s places, so that they can rescue clueless dogsitters who get stuck in the fenced back yard when the wind slams the door shut and locks one out! Just this morning! Talk about community!
This wee town of Gracia contains all anyone needs in the way of shopping; but it is near to San Isidro (one of several San Isidros here), which is only an hour from the capital city of San Jose and the international airport. We are in the mountains where the air is clear and the temperatures are mild. It is extremely quiet and peaceful. The country, itself, is one of the safest in the world and the native Costa Ricans are renowned for their genuine friendliness.
Now, how can you avail yourself of this Win/Win World of house and petsitting? Just google those terms to find the several excellent matching service websites. I always use www.trustedhousesitters.com. You can find so many listings for all over the world for long and short periods. Couples are especially welcomed; particularly, if the pets are big muscular dogs who expect and need long walks.
Once, I spent a month in Capetown, South Africa, minding a sweet little Yorkie. I forgot to mention that you usually get introduced to all of the owner’s friends, who then make up your delightful support group. This time, I’ve already gone out to lunch with Maggie, a Reiki Master and fellow Voice Hearer and we’re going to try to start an HVN group (www.hvn.org) here to meet at the Yoga Center. Expats famously gather in so many interest groups in their new communities, that you will find yourself fitting in as a local in no time at all. This is an excellent and very affordable way to checkout a possible future location for an expating move of your own.
And, in my case, I only speak English! Spanish would be nice, but I’ve done this all over the world without the local language. You can too!
I flew here from San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, to attend Molly’s high school graduation and many gala affairs surrounding that, including a pool party and a theater fundraiser.
As part of my two weeks’ family visit, we attended two fantastic theatrical, performances of the 30th Anniversary Musical of Phamaly (Family) Theater for physically-disabled actors. My grandaughter, who has a very rare genetic chromosome disorder found in only 34 people in the world, has been a dedicated actor for several years. The very talented cast uses wheelchairs, walkers and canes but they are polished and professional. What a show! This is the only such theatrical company in the United States and they have traveled as far as Japan to perform.
On Tuesday, June 4, I fly to Tampa, Florida, to visit my sister and brothet-in-law, Ann and Bill Sargent, and after a week, I’ll fly to San Jose, Costa Rica, for a convention and six weeks of pet sitting. I’m anxious to return to the Land of Pura Vida.
Dancing right along!
I’m in the sixth month of my Mexican visa and have to travel on instead of jumping through legal hoops to continue; though even that requires a border run. I can always return for another half year after time spent in Central or South America…. if I’m homesick. This time in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, has been so much fun that I’ve been taking dancing lessons. Not since high school have I thought about fast -dancing or even the Foxtrot. Now, in Ari’s well-trained arms, I see that the boys in my class did slightly different steps and we certainly held each other much closer, but Elvis hasn’t changed.
But, in two weeks, I’ll be in San Jose, Costa Rica, for another three-day International Living Conference and then a six-week, dogsitting/housesitting opportunity in nearby San Isidro. Then I’ll explore the country for over a month and return to the same home for more dogsitting until October.
Will I find a chance-to-dance in Costa Rica? Not unless little hound dogs know how! But dancefloor calesthenics have got me in shape!
Just before I left Vietnam to return to the U.S. last Fall, I met a lovely thirteen-year-old girl who spoke very good English. She wanted to practice her English skills; but it turned out that she had a far more serious reason to engage me in conversation.
After practicing the alphabet, she asked about Boys and Relationships. But, what we soon wound up talking about was sex and how babies were made. She didn’t have a clue, even though her menstrual periods had started at age 12. She was very worried about a friend who hated her own year-old baby so much that she wanted to kill it. Neither of them knew how this pregnancy had happened in the first place or how to prevent it from happening again. They knew nothing about eggs and sperm.
The religion is Spiritism, so they probably felt that Spirits just jumped into a girl’s or a woman’s body. Maybe, her parents didn’t know, either?
I drew pictures and wrote down important words, which I suggested that she look up on the internet….and share with all her friends: “This is how all the animals make babies. We do too! It’s merely Science!”
My parting advice was not to “fool around” sexually with any boy, or even to marry, until she is good and ready for a baby. We didn’t have much time together but I do feel that our short and direct conversation will be a turning point for her.
But, she had obviously had a great deal of training in the English language by some very competant foreigners. Why had she not asked them for this advice? They could have helped in many practical ways. Perhaps they were men??? Anyway, I’m glad she trusted me.
If you are ever in such a conversation, do not bow out because of embarassment; but do the best you can under the circumstances.
It was really mere Serendipity that selected San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, when I concluded my latest solo, around the world trek in late 2018.
I was in Hanoi, Vietnam, planning to travel on to China, Siberia, Russia, South Korea and Japan, when I learned that my sister, Ann, faced pancreatic surgery. Suddenly, family ties kicked in and I decided to head home immediately. I first had lovely visits in Colorado with my daughter and family; and then, with my sister in Lakeland, Florida. She’s two years younger, but considerably taller.
Ann’s treatment is going well, so I looked around Florida, where I have spent so many years of my life, and decided to leave The States for more adventurous and less-expensive regions. Suddenly, the name of San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, popped into my head and I bought a plane ticket and reserved a bunk in a hostel here; knowing that I had been very impressed on my only other visit here a few years ago at the beginning of my third around-the-world trip from which I had just returned.. I hadn’t thought about it since, but, suddenly, it sounded like a great “near-to-home-but-not-too-close” solution.
Little did I know, that this metal bust would change my viewpoint…. and my reputation! You see, my maiden name was Linda Jeanne Dickinson! My father was Russell Dickinson, descendant of a long line of New England Dickinsons, sea captains, for whom I have a record back to the 1640’s, when the first, Samuel Dickinson, sailed to Amherst, Massacheusetts from England. Though the San Miguel early expat, Stirling Dickinson, moved here from Chicago in 1937, his family roots were also in New England. So, I claimed him straight away!
The bust and some huge murals represent that Stirling Dickinson, who established the beautiful Biblioteca: the large local library; two great art institutes: Bellas Artes and the Instituto Allende, two baseball teams and a stadium, lots of orchids….something like 2000 varieties which he had collected worldwide and many now-prosperous local families to whom he had provided a university education. I claimed him as my long-lost Tio Stirling!
This week I became the surviving family member when the city honored him and several others in this city’s “Faces Of The Past” Ceremony.
So, within such a short time, I have settled-in,and have taken up my honorary post as Uncle Stirling’s niece. I even live near to his most visible monument: Calle (Street) Stirling Dickinson.
Who could imply that this brand-new city hasn’t been waiting for me all along? That proverbial “End of the road” is even fully-equipped with friends I haven’t met yet? Every day this proves to be the case… with huge hugs, followed by: “Hello darling! What’s your name?”