La Fortuna – Day 1: Solo Again
LA FORTUNA
Day 1: Solo Again
January 16, 2023
Costa Rica – my seventh country… one I wasn’t sure I’d be able to enter – mostly cause I wasn’t sure I’d be able to leave Nicaragua, having overstayed my visa (again!). I’d been wilfully ignoring the problem all throughout, now blessed with the Utilan stressless mindset.
Early in the morning, Amelia and I shared a tearful, heart-breaking goodbye. I handed her the journal I had written her, and with one final hug, we parted ways. My heart felt broken, like I had left something vital behind. We’d agreed to meet soon in Costa Rica, but ever since we’d met, not a day had gone by that we hadn’t been together. It’d be tough. She had been my longest travelling companion ever, and for some reason, I was sure I’d never find a better one.
But at least I wouldn’t be alone. Together with Aziz, Iris, Raul, and a Dutch guy I met in San Juan del Sur, we got a taxi to the border. On the way there, I tried my best to keep a que sera, sera attitude. Allegedly, it’d take about three hours to cross – the longest border process in all of Central America.
After a forty-five-minute ride, we arrived. Our taxi driver told us to zip straight through the border without looking at anyone else, as the area was known for shady thugs who either rob you or pretend to check your passport just to rip it up. Cool, cool.
The second we got out, an official-looking guy asked for our passports, prompting Aziz to run straight forward and cause an entire scene. Turns out, he was an actual immigration officer.
Border Anxiety 2.0
Whilst this drama unfolded, I felt my nerves kicking in. Classic myocardial infarction signs and symptoms started surfacing – tachycardia, diaphoresis, dizziness, maybe some chest pain. We got to the office, and Aviv went first without any trouble, followed by Iris and Raul. Then… it was my turn.
By this point, I’d rehearsed the scenario a thousand times in my head as I stood by the side soliloquising by myself. I had three speeches planned. I could either tell them I was sick and simply had to overstay my visa on accounts of being too ill to move. I could tell them I realised about the five-day limit a couple of days previously (not having looked at my passport) and that even though ignorance of the law is not an excuse, maybe, just maybe, they could let me off the hook and not send me to prison just this once. Or, the more sensible option; to just tell the truth – that I actively decided to overstay my visa and that I’d be more than glad to accept any repercussions.
I went with the second lie. If there’s one thing that gets to anyone, it’s when men cry. Luckily, my lacrimal glands had been trained by countless episodes of Grey’s Anatomy, Gilmore Girls, and This Is Us to release sorrow on command. I approached the officer with a blissful “¡Buenos días!” and told him all about my situation, tears streaming dutifully as I went on.
“I’m sorry but you’re gonna have to –” My heart stopped. “Have to what? Pay a fine? Go to jail? Capital punishment?!” I panicked as my future flashed before my eyes.
“You’re gonna have to pay a fine!” he replied, his face contorted as if he’d just delivered the most tragic news. I immediately felt relieved – my criminal record, my job, and my future were safe.
Cheap Repercussions
Of course, I wasn’t out of the woods quite yet. The guy at the Honduran border had said $400 (meaning goodbye to some of my upcoming plans). The internet claimed it was $2 per day. Kind of a great divide between them, but hey, at least I wasn’t facing any legal issues.
My face remained grave – a serious expression to show him the fine mattered and that I comprehended the extent of my crimes. “I’m sorry but –” he continued sullenly. “Damn it, it is gonna be $400 after all…” I was ready to accept it. “I’m sorry but it’s an extra $3 per day… and you’ve stayed nine days longer… You know what that means…” I finally gave up my façade and let him see my relief and internal celebration as I handed over my hard-earned $27. Totally worth it.
Just like that, I was finally across the border. I was elated to be legal again, free to explore yet another country – the one I’d been most excited about while planning my trip. The excitement would start the following day. For now, we had to wait four hours for the next bus. We killed time reading, eating, and napping. After another five hours on the road, we finally arrived at our first destination – La Fortuna. Once again, I promised myself I’d choose private transport over public next time, considering the price was nearly the same and I’d missed half a day’s activities.