In Which Amalia And Chelsea Try To Impress Their New Friends

In Nicaragua, children stand in front of buses until the driver gives them money. Horses block traffic. Hammocks are $5 and no amount of "I have only a small backpack" will deter the salesfolk. In Nicaragua, the star beach is muddy. In Nicaragua, the police ride around in the back of pickup trucks with AK47's.

We left early and arrived at our next destination late. Bus bus bus bus bus bus bus. Costa Rica Bus Tour. 

When we got in, the sun had set. People from the tour have started to really care for one another - Chelsea and I expected our companions to be mostly 80-year-olds, but it's actually a lot of people in their late 20's/early 30's (Groupon's prime demographic). 

Everyone was going off to drink together. I'm not a big social drinker unless I really love the company, so I snuck away and started wandering the labyrinthine premises until I was on a beach.

The moon was out and the waves were shining in a bizarre, gelatinous way. It was so beautiful I had trouble blinking. The stars were up and the water was warm and I walked for five or six minutes until I couldn't see lights from the hotel and I sat and stared at the huge Pacific. In my periphery, I thought I was seeing rocks rolling across the beach. Upon closer inspection, I learned I was watching hundreds of hermit crabs scuttle through the low tide.

After about 40 minutes, a German family came out. They couldn't see me because they had flashlights and were blind to the dark. A little girl and her grandfather released a red lantern, and it floated out over the water until it was the size of a star. It was so beautiful, I cried.

This morning, Chelsea and I tried to figure out what people do for fun at beaches. We concluded that we had the wrong gear for fun.

Our friends from Houston joined us and Sarah suggested we swim to the island in the center of the cove.

Chelsea and I are well aware that our Houstonian friends are a lot better and cooler than we are and we will basically do anything they want us to do. So,

Yeah! Let's swim to the island! That sounds so fun!

And, as we headed back to the room for more sunscreen,

Do you think there's beach patrol? They know we're gonna, like, doggy paddle, right?

We started out around noon. At first, we were trying to keep to the edge of the cove to avoid heavy waves, but that entailed shredding our shins and feet on the spikey rocks, so we headed into open water.

I enjoy swimming, but I do not enjoy having salt water in my eyes.That, I find unpleasant. 

Guys, it was hard. Sarah and Eli are fit and athletic and THEY said it was hard.

We got to the beach of the island, which was getting pounded by waves from both sides, and realized we were extremely tired. We explored a little, but mostly just laid around. Finally, we started discussing a return strategy. Obviously, sticking to the edges was out of the question. We figured our best bet was to swim straight across, even though it was probably three times longer than swimming to the rocky shore closest. 

I was getting uncomfortable and burning to a crisp and salt water is such a horrible substance, so I booked it towards shore. I pulled out my lap swimming moves. Chelsea struggled, but Eli and Sarah stayed close to her and, with the help of some gnarly waves, we made it safely back around 4:30.

We didn't realize how long it would take and we had nothing to carry our sunscreen in, and guys. I have never, and let me assert that I have had some rough sunburns, NEVER been burned like this before.

So there's basically no way I'm leaving the shade for four more days, until all my skin falls off.

Monkey Count: 4.5. 

Monkey Tours was a misnomer.