Yesteday morning we left Puerto Viejo. At around 10 minutes after 8 a very large man arrived with a small 4×4. He was a jolly, friendly fellow albeit one gregarious enough that he kept whatsapping all the way to San Jose. At about two thirds of the way we stopped for a coffee, largely because there seemed to be an accident ahead and several ambulances zoomed past (we saw the accident later, it was quite a terrible smash up. The drivers who were the ones injured or killed had been taken away but others whom must have been in the cars, or had dashed up, stood around with shellshocked faces).
The truckstand we stopped at had quite good coffee and football playing on the televisions. It turned out be a very invested crowd indeed: many of the patrons and all of the staff wore football shirts and there was a little row of men standing just outside, along the rail of the stand, watching the match and cheering loudly. A goal scored, and the men outside cheered and capered, and inside the mood changed so suddenly, attention and excitement rising, that there was almost a physical change in the air. An elderly man in wellingtons and who walked leaning heavily on a stick rose and hobbled after the men outside, waving his fist and shouting abuse. After a little comedy scamper, he settled back into his seat and the man outside returned to the rail.
We arrived in San Jose and drove to the address I’d been given, the home of a friend’s mother. I had been rather nervous about imposing on her, but having made the arranagement there was nothing to do but to go through with it. The address was of a very swish, new condominium building and we entered the gate to find our hostess standing in wait, dressed in silks and heavily weighed down with gold. Rather unexpected. She took us inside to a condo flat – very new and well-equipped, a bit sterile as high end condos usually are – and gradually we realised that the flat was just for us, and had even been fully stocked for our use. Of course this was very embarrassing, plus we felt very scruffy indeed returning from our month on the beach. She showed us around the building with an air of possessiveness – the gym, the pool, the walks in the woods, the little cabina and billiard room. It definitely reminded me of my old place in KL. High end condos seem to have the same aesthetic the world over and my secret belief is that they are all furnished by Bo Concept as there appears to be an outlet of the store in the vicinity of every building of this kind.
She took us to her own place which was right next door, indeed the condo building was constructed in her front garden, leaving me wondering if she owns the entire building. Here, in her very pleasant and immaculate home, she suddenly relaxed and suggested we go out to see the city.
There is not much to see in San Jose; one gets the feeling that there was once a small, pretty little provincial town here that was engulfed by American pre-fab urbanism. We drove through some of the squares, then went to the Jade Museum, the one place I’d wanted to visit here. However, the museum was disappointing. The collections were interesting, but there was no interpretation, the computer stuff was very lazy, the attempts at thematic arrangement were half-hearted, and most of the objects didn’t even have approximate years or place of origin. After the care and pride with which pre-Hispanic materials are presented in Mexico, it was a shock to see how little they were respected here.
We then went to the national theatre, where our hostess suddenly perked up — this was far more to her taste. She dashed off to buy tickets as it turned out there was a guided tour about to begin, so we caught up with it. It’s a pretty little theatre, built to match those in the European capitals and funded by public taxation, with frescos commissioned from Italian artists who had no idea, for example, which way up to hold a bunch of bananas. The little tour was not as dire as many are, and the guide was clearly energised by his work.
Then a quick coffee, and we returned, getting dropped off at one of the strip malls near the condos where we had a poor Mexican meal before returning and going to bed in luxurious surroundings. It does make me think that whenever we do find a place to retire, it would be good if going to a more luxurious place doesn’t feel like a relief. Something I must mention to the Gentleman Friend, but not till the weekend as he left this morning for Montreal.