We picked up a bike box so I could ship my bike to El Salvador and then picked up miss Maggie at the airport. She was looking all fine and dressed like a lady. We hugged in the street and I was instantly excited for our two weeks together. After picking some citrus fruits and fuelling on a few leftovers, Maggie and I took the van, lightened by less bikes, boards and bitches, and we got flying down the highway for my second hippie music fest of the season: Organika. Not long down the road, we popped a tire. The same damn tire that’s been making me miserable all trip. I found a nail and we pumped/limped/patched that thing as quick as could be. It took asking direction and several wrong turns to find the festival site, well after night fall. We poured drinks and pitched my tent on a flat spot near a few other tents. We were entertained by some lively gypsy folk music from a stage backdropped by a beautiful big lit up tree. Even late into the night it was still hot as could be so we courageously hiked down to the beach. After tromping way out into the muck, with the tide out, and no chance of reaching the water, we scared ourselves with crocodile sounds and hurried back to shore. Organika was a battle of man v. nature. It was just way too hot to enjoy anything during the day. Napping in the shaded tea lounge/art gallery was the only saviour from the sun. Everything was fire cooked: we ate beans, hot dogs, and plantains with tortillas and mustard. I thought we could save ourselves with coconut water, but after throwing down 8 mature cocos from the tree, I was starting to bruise Maggie’s arms and lose hope. An unsuccessful ice run into the nearby village put the last nail in Organika’s coffin, and we fled for cooler climates the next morning. Doing some dumb driving, I took us back into San Jose. And since I was selling my van soon, I wanted to talk to another lawyer to make sure it was going to work. At that point I realized the van sale couldn’t happen until monday because nobody works on the weekends. So we rolled back to the coast and camped at Playa Hermosa in a sick spot under at least eight palm trees all to ourselves. We hammocked and swam and cooked patacones on the fire.Sunday we met the boys in Jaco and prepared to make a deal for Monday. That night I spent the better part of two hours cleaning and deciding what I could part with from my van. I ended up downsizing from a minivan full of camping, camera, surf and bike gear to two duffel bags and a backpack. Monday morning, after minimal complications, I signed over my van to Adam for 2Gs, in what I felt was a good deal for both parties. It would be buslife from then on. Maggie was craving a rainforest hike, so we boarded a bus down to Quepos to explore the beaches and forest of the Manuel Antonio park. I was being a brat and didn’t want to pay the 16$ entrance fee to the park. But after I looked for an alternate entrance, my sugar momma pulled through and paid for me too. It definitely seems doable to sneak in through the beach over some rocks though. At the park, we had a taco picnic, played with monkeys, and posed for photos on the playa. Though we didn’t see as many creatures as the guided groups of whities with telescopes and tour guides, we saw a sleepy sloth and some plants that recoil when you touch them. We hiked every “trail” (they’re all paved) that we could and then cruised back and got a bus to the Panama border.