Matina

Leaving the land of turtles as the locals call „Tortuguero“ is has hard as getting there.

The boat ride is supposed to be 3,5 hours down south through the wetlands. We all line up, backpackers and locals. Bags are thrown into a boat we are not allowed to enter as they balance out the weight. The boat is small and tiny and barely reaches above the water. We are 21 people - three too many. Chairs are brought inside the middle for the remaining passengers who hadn’t pushed their way to the front as the boarding started.

A tiny motor on full blast we barely moved. You could feel the weight of us.

„GUITARRA- EEEH“ the Rastafari in front of me shouted and laughed. He had forgotten his guitar on the pier and found it amusing that no one else had brought it in.

Guitar on board. Tiny motor trying to do its job. All of us tightly packed together as we are passing wild papyrus, huge banana trees that have sometimes fallen into the water, as well as grass that grows on the water and is held together by its roots. Fishermen stand in their tiny boats and look at us while we pass. A crocodile snaps its head out of the water and disappears in the brownish water. Little “street” signs pop up when rivers cross that show directions of the villages they lead to. Blue signs in the middle of the wetlands suggest not to drive faster than 15km/h to help save the manatee, a weird grey underwater creature that looks like the squeezeball version of a seal.

2 hours in and time flies past because the scenery is mesmerizing. When you look at the plants close to the water you can see their reflection forming various geometric shapes. When you focus on both images it makes you feel like you’re flying.

Then a huge bump and the boat stops. We hit a sandbank and are stuck. Little round black and white birds with long legs that don’t match their body strut around the water looking for food. One of the locals gets out of the boat and tries to rearrange the boat. The water is too low and we are too many people.

When we finally make it out the captain carefully manoeuvres the boat and finds a small lane where we can pass through until we reach the wider area of another river.

3,5 hours in and we can see the ocean mixing with the river. More animals, plenty of various birds. Probably more crocodiles below us.
The boat stops again

“Gasolina vacía”
We’re out of gas. The captain manages his way through the boat throwing around the suitcases and backpacks.
“Oh no no” he keeps saying until he finds some gasoline and we’re ready to continue our journey.

After 4 hours we can see some tiny huts and houses. We’re told to put our life vests on, because the coast guards are ahead. It’s funny to note here that it would technically be possible to walk through some of these little side rivers. The captain turns around: the people in the middle need to leave the boat. A red taxi is waiting for them to bring them to the docking station. The coast guards are not supposed to see that the boat has carried too many people. Some people left in the most unbalanced way possible. The boat was shaking.

When we arrived there were already around 15 taxi drivers around waiting for customers.
Only 2 more hours driving now until the Carribean beachtown Puerto Viejo.Read more