The adventure continues: Costa Rica

Southbound on my RC390

There was a problem at the border, leaving Nicaragua. On entry, customs had mistakenly given my bike a transit permit instead of a tourist permit, and my bike had now outstayed its welcome. In a “developed” country, this would be a serious issue.

Fortunately, this is the part of the world where amicable, win-win solutions are valued above strict adherence to the rules. The customs officials exchanged “how much time do we really want to spend dealing with this idiot?” looks, and asked me if I had done any tourism, or had simply transited slowly. A few minutes later, the officials had returned to their gossip and I was at the Costa Rican border. What a civilized process.

The Costa Rican border is different from the rest. There is no swarm of fixers pushily demanding to help you for a tip (just give them your passport and registration and all will be taken care of, honest!) Instead, there is civility, a fumigation process for the bike, and an obligation to purchase insurance — something I’d happily been going without through the rest of Central America. The now familiar sight of soldiers standing around with machine guns had disappeared — Costa Rica abolished their military in 1948 and hasn’t looked back.