Day 316 Hotel in San Jose to Airport Hotel via Car Wash, Bonded Store 25km

Rocky and Millsy slept last night at the airport hotel as Millsy had an early morning flight and Rocky wanted to go to the Customs people to dot his I’s and cross his T’s.

We had a farewell dinner last night and there was a lot of slapping on the backs and we were all in high spirits, we have made the trip which I have been dreading. Doc, Rodger and George were still not sure of their plans, but it was time for them to make a call, do they turn around and ride back to Reynosa in Mexico or put their bikes in storage with us and then return in due course either with us to ride further or should they decide, ride back at a later stage, or, get more friends to join them and ride South with their friends. After dinner we went to bed without any certainty of their plans. They needed to sleep on it.

The beer gets served here with a paper serviette wrapped around the neck of the bottle to show it is clean:

After dinner we walked around, some needed an ice-cream, George thought it would pay to advertise:

We had dinner and a show because the electric department arrived to fix a broken fuse on the top of an electric pole:

Spagetti :

Our bikes were brought inside last night to be off the street, they were almost parked inside the garden Cafe. Everywhere you look you can see that crime is rife, people live in prisons they have created for themselves, not unlike us back home with our high walls and security cameras and electric fences.

This morning we ordered the Costa Rica Traditional Breakfast at our little hotel, and surprise surprise, its the same as every other morning’s breakfast, it just the shape of the bread that was different.

In the morning traffic we lost Doc, so he went to a very good Car Wash, we found one but it was not so good and the bikes were still full of bugs when they told us they were finished, but worse, Pie sprayed our bikes with a type of grease-cutter-acid-like- spray bottle which had a chemical reaction with the aluminium of our Panniers, so now our bikes has stained panniers and his black panniers did not stain. He denied, denied, denied that it was him, but we found photographic evidence.

We stood taking photos instead of watching the car-was guys, (and watching Pie of course would have helped.)

Now look at Doc’s bike compared to ours:

Millsy left his bike for Rocky to get into storage, he ran the risk of the Customs people at the bonded storage refusing to accept the bike without the owner present, checking it in. But he said he was Mr. LuckyLucky, and I guess he is because his bike was accepted by Customs without him present, after Rocky took it to a car wash where no one sprayed acid onto his panniers, and then I disconnected his battery for him and Peens covered his bike for him.

There were several gates to go through, it was compulsory to wear your helmet even though we were moving 40m at a time. There were lots of checks and stickers stuck on the bikes, then the customs official took lots of photos if the bikes from different angles and VIN Numbers were double checked.

Then we got some old wedding dresses and night frills, probably confiscated by customs, and covered the bikes before we covered them with covers for a small car, and then Peens and George covered them with plastic for us while we went in search of the other customs office the they put a hold on our 90 days until the bikes are removed from storage, in which case the 90 days starts ticking again.

Note the planks under the centre stands to prevent the bikes from falling over in time when the centre stands starts sinking into the soil. Yes, the parking is outside under the trees.

Rocky had been to the Customs offices, but on his motorbike, and since our motorbikes were now in Bonded Storage he suggested we walk, in the mid-day sun, while wearing slops, thinking it was a good idea. I suggested a taxi but he said we could do with the exercise. Turns out the Big Trek, in Plakkies, (slops) was 2,1km there and 2,1km back. We tried to take short-cut through the bush and was almost mistaken as Refugees walking to the USA, then later we took out lives in our own hands and had to cross several lanes of busy roads and highways, not our finest decision, but we did get some exercise, and I did manage to decimate the bridge of my feet, vast amounts of  money will be spent at the pediatrist to get my wheel alignment back to a acceptable level, I also destroyed one good paid of plakkies, made for walking on the beach, not highway. But on the plus side, we did save taxi fair amounting to about 2 beers.

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The Boemelaars of San Jose.

And our Mexican riding buddies has decided that Doc and George will also store with us and might continue with us going South, or not. Rodger is however riding back tomorrow, we fly off and Doc is busy looking for a flight as we speak.

My flight is early in the morning and I will do my final “DEEP BLOG” from the airport lounge. I had a lot of time to think, and like previous Last Blogs, in which I spoke out about American Politics, Gay Rights, versus our Straight Rights, Racism, Putin the bloody War Monger, ( I called him out already before he invaded The Crimea,) and had a lot to say about the average Russian that had been brain-washed after our ride through Russia, and “sommer” every other thing the bugged me while riding. But tomorrow I will no doubt step on more toes when I speak about some things I realised on this trip, and all of these thoughts were triggered by the emotional encounter we had with the Venezuelans walking to The USA.

Luv Ja All Madly

Fleisch