. The days of stumbling across colonial cities with not a white face in sight are long gone. I note the obvious hypocracy of this but I still hate those Leering Parasites.
So after his speech, he grabbed the Lonely Planet and planned the quickest route to friend Jen Leeīs house in Ojochal, Costa Rica, where we would spend the rest of the vacations sans backpackers.
We did manage to get out of town for a little fun before we went south including a canopy tour accompanied by a lovely couple, American Lawyer Jackie and Mexican Scenester boyfriend David, a modern day Tarzan who strangely resembled Scott Gray despite his dark tan, Mr. T jewelry, and mohawk. We also met a Kiwi named Darius who would soon become our faithful sidekick. Batmanīs Robin has got nothing on him.
PS (poo situation), Heather: (chirp chirp) (chirp chirp), Woody: Master Blaster
We arrived in Granada and went straight to the Bearded Monkey, an all inclusive backpacker resort. Initially it seemed great with its English breakfast, 2 movies showing per night, and nicely stocked bar. The next morning we woke up to realize that we hadnīt seen ANY of Granada and we had seen and talked to just about all of the backpackers that we had seen over the past 6 weeks. AND we found out that they were all taking the exact same route south. We escaped to get a beer outside of The Bearded/Mankey Monkey and thatīs when Woody turned. The next 10 minutes werenīt pretty. He, actually Woody would you care to take over, began ranting that The Lonely Planet paradoxically has created a very crowded planet. With 80% of the globe heavily documented by the LP (or Little Pricks), it is almost impossible to avoid backs carrying packs unless covered by leeches ankle deep in crocodiles or staring down the barrel of an AK47, naked among a mass of bodies posing for the regiment photo. The Lovely People employed by The Book have ruined everything and made all but extreme adventures dull