Costa Rica Unplugged: Day 12

I thought my last tour day in Costa Rica would be the saddest but it was not. I did not yet know that my despair would set in twenty-four hours later. Nonetheless, the trip came full circle as we rode back to San Jose where it all started. I don't remember anything about the ride except arriving to our original hotel. It felt all too familiar, like I was home, until I was asked how I was going to pay for the room that night. I had gotten accustomed to being handed keys and walking to my lodge for the day or two. Having to use my credit card again after a couple of weeks was the first sign that the end was near and reality creeping right along side it.

Our guide threw out names of restaurants and night clubs we could all enjoy as friends that evening (instead of tour guide and passengers, he made sure that was very clear) when we were still in the shuttle. Those like Jackie and myself flying out the following morning met in the lobby and took one final stroll together down the dark and empty streets of the main city on a Wednesday night. 

We settled on Peruvian and it turned out to be the best, most delicious meal we had in Costa Rica. My group took up an entire private room where I immensely enjoyed my chicken chaufa while we chatted, laughed, and picked at one of the girls' deep sea dishes where we pretended the tentacles were human fingers accidentally left behind by a crime scene. 

Last dinner. 

Since our driver was off duty and en route to his family, we hailed taxi cabs immediately after to one of San Jose's most popular clubs. The drinks were cheap and tasty in contrast to the music selection. I never figured out the theme of that club. The workers appeared to be into the rock/alternative scene yet the DJ only played hip hop. With a giant screen displaying the matching music videos, I bounced to the rhythm of Iggy and Pitbull as I watched people pour in in leather jackets. 

"Bienbebidos."

The place looked more like an art gallery than a club. There was a staircase that led to a long balcony upstairs with large canvases hanging ranging from paintings to portraits to mixed media. Jackie and I had a couple of drinks but didn't get sucked into the atmosphere. The club in Monteverde where I met Rico Suave had set the standard too high and no other similar establishment was ever able to come even close in musical selection or ambiance. When we accepted that the fun we had had would not be replicated there, Jackie and I left, sharing a cab with two others, and closed out our last night in Costa Rica. 

Dead scene at the club. Just us.