Tuesday, June 26, 2007

...Like Wet Hair: Costa Rica Follow Up




Well it's good to know this thing is working!

So far, I've gotten an overwhelming response to you black folk wanting to visit Costa Rica!

GOOD FOR YOU! Broaden those horizons why don'tcha?!

However, let me warn you all that, right now, Costa Rica is experiencing their "rain season" or "green season".

What that means is... if you go now, Evan Almighty may just have to scoop you up in his ark.



Yeah. The rain is like that.

So post-pone that trip for a few months and hit someplace else warm and tropical.

..like the Bronx Botanical Gardens.

(Yep. That's coming too...)

Pura Vida.

-Nye

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

...Hang Out In "This Neighborhood": Astoria Queens: Bohemian Hall Beer Garden




The jukebox plays Prince.

A lot of Prince. And all his proteges. All on it's own. HOW CAN YOU NOT LOVE THIS PLACE??

OK, my personal obsession aside, let's answer the real question.

What in the hell was I doing in Astoria Queens.

Well, you can thank Esso for that one, understanding that for the both of us stepping foot in QUEENS, means that there might be some hope for the future of Borough-wide peace.
(NO, we still haven't gotten over that "Queens created hip-hop" shit Marley Marl.
We STILL sing "The Bridge Is Over" to the top of our lungs like the fight is still fresh.)

Anyway, long story short, she tricked me into going. Throwing out the name, "Beer Garden", knowing damn well I'd bite. And bite I did. Hard.

The Ride:
I have to admit, I just followed everyone else. Everyone said get on the "N" train...I got on the "N" train. Everyone said "get off here", I got off there.
No. I paid noneya to the station stop. I was still in a state of "Oh My God, I'm In Queens" traumatic shock. However, I can tell you that from the Union Square station in Manhattan, we were there in less than fifteen minutes. And that spells good time.
Nothing like a long ass trip to another borough (that didn't create hip-hop) to put a smudge on your fresh Adidas. (Run-DMC made em famous, but we were rocking them in the Boogie way before. WAY before. Ahem.)

We get off the train, and after having a kick-ass Sci-Fi Network conversation with my new BFF Peter, we get there. And it's...not impressive.

First off...it's just a bar. And second off, I'm wondering why in the hell did we travel all the way to West Bubblefuck for a pitcher of beer...and are having trouble at the door.

The security guard at the door is checking bags like it's a fucking Jay-Z/R. Kelly tour. Now, gotta say. I'm used to having my bag searched, so at this point, I just kinda...don't ever close it. However, it never ceases to amaze me when I witness people who aren't used to being searched....getting searched. The shit is pure comedy.

"What? Is he checking...INSIDE bags?"

"I guess he's checking for alcohol..."

(I'm thinking weapons...but hey.)

"This is ridiculous...why did they stop Katie?"

"Oh she's got a bottle of wine for her birthday..."

"We're never getting in..."

...COMEDY.


So eventually, we get in and let's face it. A place that's blasting "A Love Bizarre" as soon as you walk in, has GOT to be a good time. Am I right, or am I right?

We squeeze past the bar area, and I'm thinking...this is gonna suck. Hard. Homeless ass. The place is small, smells like stale beer and old church and has no ventilation. One beer, and I'm out.

Then, we head to the outdoor section.

Oh. My. God.

Rows and rows of big ass picnic tables....people on line at the outdoor grill which is flipping hamburgers and franks...a sassy Czech waitress who pretty much made me understand that everything there is "schnitzel". OK...let me explain. This place used to be a Czech and Slovak social club (and still is the central gathering spot for Astoria's Czech and Slovak community).

Now when ever would you just go hang out with the Czech community? Probably um...never, right? Well you should. They're cool as shit. And beer is universal baby.

The beer...fantastic. Cold, frothy, variety...

The food...ditto. You can get your ass up and order from the grill, or you can order from the restaurant inside for a better selection of ...uh...schnitzel. But no matter what you order...it's pretty damn great beer food. And yes, they serve hard liquor too but why would you do that when you're in a BEER GARDEN? (...silly.)


Prices:
Now, this place does not accept credit cards. Cash only. (Damn right.) However, not to worry...there's an ATM on the premises.

A pitcher of beer...about $12, depending on what kind you get. Sorry, can't tell you the mixed drink prices. I CAN tell you, however, that with some chicken schnitzel, your girl can go through some beer. Believe it.

One complaint. No outdoor music.

I mean yeah, Prince was going on the inside...but on outside...nothing. Just great convo and connecting. (Come to think of it...the "no music outdoors" thing is probably a great idea. In a place like that...things could get ugly.)

Black Factor: It's Bohemia for real. Every race, color, and creed sharing picnic tables, drinking beer and laughing. Dr. King would smile.

Go Back:
Only in the summer. Not troopin to the this spot in the winter. That's real. OH..and the M60 bus gets you from Astoria to Harlem like (finger snap)!

So all you Harlem-ites...no excuse. Do the damn thing.

Saturday, June 2, 2007

...Travel To Central America: Manuel Antonio, Costa Rica


(No lie. It really looks like this.)


I have no problems with becoming a Costa Rican.

Any place on the planet where they don't understand the meaning of "substance abuse" or have a fucking clue as to what I do for a living is OK with me. Because, there are days when I wonder myself.


Not to mention, this place has "monkey time"!
But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Getting There

Normally, a direct flight to Costa Rica from New York will take you approximately 5hrs.
(Just rock with that estimate. I'm not going into the story again...)

Then, depending on what part of the country you're interested in visiting, you can either take a flight to your final destination ($100) which will take you anywhere from a half hour to two hours, or hire a private van ($125), take your time and see the country side with your own personal guide.

We opted for the van. (www.costaricantours.com)

Alviero (pronounced "Al-berrro". Roll that tongue!) met us at the airport, raising a sign with my name in hand. (Did you ever want to be one of those "name on a sign" people? I did. Felt great...)

He was so nice. Soo...soo nice. Actually, Costa Rican people don't really understand people who aren't. "Pura Vida" is their motto, which translates into "pure life", but it doesn't mean what you might think.

The "pura vida" philosophy is what Christianity should have been.

Live and let live. Don't bother me...and I won't bother you. Let me live the way that makes me happy, I'll do the same and life will be pure. This would explain why the Costa Ricans don't have an army...and are proud of this.

To give you a better idea of the Costa Rican mentality, I jacked the following from www.wikipedia.com

Costa Ricans often refer to themselves as tico (masculine) or tica (feminine). "Tico" comes from the popular local usage of "tico" and "tica" as diminutive suffixes (e.g., "momentico" instead of "momentito"). The tico ideal is that of a very friendly, helpful, laid back, unhurried, educated and environmentally aware people. Visitors from the United States are often referred to as gringos, which is virtually always congenial in nature. The phrase "Pura Vida" (literally "Pure Life") is a ubiquitous motto in Costa Rica. It encapsulates the pervading ideology of living in peace in a calm, unclustered manner, appreciating a life surrounded by nature and family and friends.

You you get the vibe now, right?

I ask Alviero in spanish, if he speaks English. A little.

He asks if I speak spanish... a little.

Initially, I'm thinking, this is going to be a long ride.

And it is...yet, not.

The drive from San Jose to the town of Manuel Antonio, in the Puntarenas providence takes approximately two and a half hours, if you don't stop. (If you're hustling, you can make it in two as we learned on the way back. However I STRONGLY suggest you don't hustle. You'll see why in a minute.)

Alviero loads us up, and, in the rain, we head on the road.

The first thing I notice is all the construction. Two years ago, there was no such thing. "You will not reconize..." Alviero tells me (in English. And I'm already aware that he's ahead of the game. I couldn't begin to tell you how to say "reconize" in Espanol.)

But he's right. The Americans are coming, and in full force. They've found paradise. And in ten years, they'll fuck it up. But hey..pura vida.

About an hour into the ride, Al asks us if we want to stop for lunch. We do.

Right by the crocodile bridge.

I remember this bridge distinctly. However, two years ago...that restaurant and that gift shop didn't exist.

"It's a business," he explains over lunch. He's just having "cafe con leche y tortilla y queso", though we offered more. I'm shoveling the best "arroz con pollo" I've ever had in my life into my mouth as quickly as possible, while Pia shovels her "spaghetti mariposa" into her mouth without breathing. It's a seafood dish and she pulls out half of a crab amongst the rest of the dish, which is more seafood than pasta. Oh yeah...the tab was $18 American. With beer.

Anyway...back to the crocodile business.

"The shop owners, they throw chickens over the bridge everyday so the crocodiles will stay. If they stay, tourists stop, and they make money."

"Claro que si." I say. Yeah. I'm showing off.

"Muy bien!"

Alviero decides he's only going to speak spanish for the remainder of the trip, so that we'll learn.

And learn, we do. He speaks slowly and makes hand gestures. He translates the hard words...we're having a great time.

Until we hit the mountain.

I've been having nightmares about this mountain. I didn't bother to tell anyone about this though. I didn't watch the Left Eye docu, strictly because I knew that there would be a possibility I could die the same way. Except, my body would probably be crumbled at the bottom of canyon. Eaten by crocs or worse. So I didn't tell anyone. Ignorance is bliss.

Alviero was absolutely silent as he twisted and turned around the narrow double lane mountainside. Everywhere was a blind spot. One wrong turn. One drunk driver. One loose rock from the mountain...one blink and we're easily over the edge, falling into an abyss and hoping to die easily, on impact.

Nobody breathed. Or moved. Then, it began to rain. HARD. For one full hour.

After the mountain, (you always want to cheer and pat the driver on the back after you get passed it...) there are two bridges that are about a million years old. Single lane and rotting, they are on the only road to Manuel Antonio.

"We've been asking for a new bridge for 80 years. Disney is coming. They are paying for half now. The government is paying for the other half."

Disney is coming? "Walt Paradiso".

Shit. They're fucked.

"The Cubans think we area stupid for letting Americans come."

I'd have to agree with the Cubans.

Alviero gets us there safe and sound. I hug him. He was fantastic and my spanish, though still rusty, was now at least warmed up.

We can relax now!

"You. I still have to go home!" he laughs.

I think about the mountain again.

"Pura vida.."


The Hotel

Hotel Villa Bosque

OK, so sometimes, the water shuts off, and you have to tell the guy at the front desk to flip a switch so the water pressure builds back up.

And sure, sometimes the A/C changes temperature on you at will.

And you may get woken up in the middle of the night by monkeys on your roof having a street fight...

You read right. And that's why I picked this place, again.

They know the biggest attraction to this hotel are the locals. Meaning, the animals.

Birds of Paradise, iguana, squirrel monkeys, white faced monkeys, sloths...they all chill out at Villa Bosque. And why wouldn't' they? The staff purposely leaves bananas and other fruit around to attract them.

So right around 4pm when the monkeys wake up, feel free to grab one of the bananas and place a piece right in the palm of your hand. They'll climb on down, take it right out of your hand and climb back up. No shit. Costa Ricans think it's so funny that we're amazed by this kind of stuff.

And dare I say, you get used it.

Yes, you actually get used to butterflies surrounding you. And bees. Lots of bees. The locals laugh when you swat.

The walk to the local beach takes about five minutes...if you're strolling.

Friends stayed about three miles up the road at "Si Como No", which boasts stunning views, two pools, private villas and a price tag only $75 more per night than Villa Bosque. ($93 per night).

If you want romance, "Si Como No"(www.sicomono.com is the way to go. Or even "Costa Verde"www.costaverde.com . If you want "monkey time", hit "Hotel Villa Bosque" www.hotelvillabosque.com.

Stuff To Do

If you do nothing else in Costa Rica. NOTHING else, I strongly suggest doing a zip-line canopy tour in the rainforest. Believe me, you will never forget the time you strapped on a harness, helmet and a pair of really stinky gloves, then ziplined hundreds of feet above a Costa Rican rainforest.

Two of the most popular are Tiki Tours and Canopy Tours. If you're in decent shape and trust yourself, do Tiki. You'll have to "hand break" (meaning, slow down and stop before you wind up like George Of The Jungle), however, Tiki offers the MOTHER of all ziplines. 700 feet (no fucking lie) above the ground. It's long as hell too. You'll almost piss your pants as you watch your friends disappear. You'll never forget it though. Ever.

Canopy is better for the faint at heart. You're still pretty high up, however, they run a totally different course. What they lack in height, they make up for in variety because you'll hike a mountain. Then zip. Then zip again. Then walk across a suspension bridge. Then zip. Then repel down a 60 foot tree. Then zip. Then tarzan swing across the forest. (Then somebody will catch a poison dart frog for you, and chase you with it...) Then you'll zip. Then zip again...and now you're cocky, because you've got the hang of this. Then you'll repel down another tree. And zip a few more times....and end up back where you started. The zip is "self breaking", so all you have to do is let go of the ledge and fly. The lines are engineered to dip and slow you down automatically. No George Of The Jungle here.

Both tours offer a lunch, however Canopy puts it foot in it. They've got some women who make a traditional Costa Rican lunch and they're cooking and making coffee the entire two hours you're gone. When you get back, everything is done and THE BEST SPANISH FOOD YOU WILL EVER HAVE PERIOD. And I don't even have to tell you about Costa Rican coffee...do I? Nah...of course not.


Manuel Antonio National Park

So there's going to be this guy dressed up in a Steve Irwin costume who's going to tell you he can take you through the park for $30 per person and show you monkeys and sloths and frogs. Don't do it. It's a rip-off, but can't knock his hustle.

When you approach the park, there is a mini-pool (that used to be a stream) right before the entrance. Some guys in a boat will offer to take you across...for whatever you give them. The pool is about 3 feet deep. You can walk it. (I did.) Or take the boat (like everyone else did). Up to you. But you won't drown. Trust me.

$7 to get in Manuel Antonio, (a pricetag that keeps the locals away and on the public beach) however, it's good for the entire day. (As Manuel told me...in spanish. By the end, I understood perfectly. Very proud over here.)

The beaches inside the park...INSANE. Skip the first beach you come to, and just keep walking till you hit "Third Beach". Trust me on this.

Oh..and you'll pass the guides showing the suckers..oops. I mean, customers frogs and iguana and monkeys. Yep. You guessed it. The same ones you'll see for free, and the same ones that eat out of your hands at the hotel.

Can't knock the hustle though.

One word on the beaches though.

Manuel Antonio is a surfing town. However, the water is VERY dangerous. People die in Costa Rica every year for not respecting the ocean. Riptides are frequent and there are no lifeguards. Please do not swim out pass the break. It's not a game.



Nightlife


Hell yes. All the time. And it's great. The music of times is reggaeton. Get used to it. Aviation is a cool spot...but be sure to check out anything that even seems REMOTELY cool. Chances are, it probably is. Or you'll meet some remotely cool people there.

The Money


Costa Ricans live by the "Colones". There are no different denominations, it's just colones. At the time, 500 colones equal one American dollar. And to give you an idea on how cheap things are there, a woman on the side of the road was selling watermelon melons...three for 500 colones. A large bottle of Bacardi Limon cost me 5,000 colones. (That's ten bucks.) And remember that lunch we had earlier. Yep. I was drinking beer. (200 colones. Beer is less than a dollar.)


OK..I'm getting tired of typing and I'm sure you're getting tired of reading but you get the idea. If you plan on doing it...do it. And HURRY, before Disney gets there.

You may not be able to afford it soon. Hell. Neither will the Costa Ricans.

Black Factor: I am? Really...I didn't even notice until I got on the plane to come home. It's fucking great.

Cost Cheaper than a weekend in New York.


Going Back?
Like Biggie...Biggie...to Cali...Cali...


Pura Vida!


-Nye