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The nine-hour bus ride that would take us to San José, the capital of Costa Rica, marked not only my next destination but also yet another goodbye for Amelia and me.
This time round, going our separate ways felt a bit easier, knowing we’d probably cross paths again in a couple of weeks’ time. Not to mention, we had so many goodbyes and hellos by this point in time that we knew we’d keep up our friendship regardless of our location. It probably felt a bit less devastating also on accounts of having a cockroach run all the way up my legs and onto my arm – the trauma overshadowing everything else.
After getting to my hostel and settling in, I decided to tackle a few errands that had been piling up on my to-do list. I needed to get my hands on some cash (none of the ATMs seemed to work), find somewhere to buy data (I need Google Maps to survive abroad), and get my three-monthly STD bloodwork done (I’m very strict about this).
It felt good to be in a city again, frantically weaving through the streets and crowds as I admired the giant, modern buildings and the constant buzz of activity. After weeks surrounded by jungle and wildlife, big-city life felt like a welcome change of pace, even though it was the last thing that came to mind when I thought about Costa Rica.
That same evening, I got a message from Jennie, who happened to be in the area as well. We’d met back in La Fortuna, again in Monteverde, then in Manuel Antonio, and somehow managed to stumble upon each other here too. By this point, it felt like catching up with an old friend – exchanging updates, filling in the gaps since we’d last met, and, most importantly, showing each other photos of all the incredible wildlife we’d seen along the way.
She was flying back to her hometown of Pucón in Chile the following day, meaning I had two tearful goodbyes in just one day.