The Sting Incident

So several weekends ago Sarah and I had tickets to this two-day music festival about an 1.5 hours away in La Guacima. It was a pretty big deal for this country as Jamiroquai and Sting were both playing on the first and second days respectively. Personally I didn't care much about any of the artists, I just wanted to be there for the spectacle of the whole thing. Which was pretty spectaculous.

Day 1. I wander around for 3 hours trying to find my friend Anne after I had unintentionally left her waiting for me for an hour. I almost got the security guards to announce her name on the loud speaker. But they said it was busy. It was pretty dark at that point so I gave up. Sarah and I then get Churros and enjoy the rest of the bands, and this impressively crazy tall white girl who was dancing in front of us. When, exhausted, we finally leave on the bus to go back to San Jose we both agree that we don't want to go back the next day.

Day 2.
Sarah decides (and then I agree) to go back to the concert to see Sting. We already have the tickets and it seems like a unique experience. We plan to catch the 7:00 bus out of San Jose in order to make it to La Guacima at 8 to meet her friends there. Everything's going fine. We get to the bus stop just around 7 and the bus is still there. But then this guy in surprisingly good English tells us that the bus we want isn't until 7:40. I figure we might be able to catch a break by going to the other bus stop across town. We take a cab, pay, then run to catch the bus there. This also turns out to be not the bus we want, but no worries, the driver says he can drop us off at another stop where we should be able to catch it. When our stop comes, we dash across the street going in the direction, only to be passed by the bus we then realize we wanted. Not to worry, we talk to the next bus driver who, though he isn't supposed to be taking and passengers, allows us to climb aboard and stand before the electronic people detectors so we won't have to pay. He chases down the first bus on the freeway, honking when it stops. We thank him, and run to the next bus... which also isn't going to La Guacima. Instead, he's going back to San Jose. But not to worry, there's a stop where we can catch the concert bus. He'll let us off near there. So Sarah and I get off again (4th bus for those of you keeping score at home), cross 6 lanes of highway (two by two- luckily, there were dividers) and decide to pass on the bus to Alajuela, which as it turns out, was the one we wanted to take. We contemplate giving up and eating at the Giant Flashing Denny's right behind us, but after talking to a hotel greeter we push on, eventually taking a cab... back to the bus stop in San Jose. Round trip, the whole thing took an hour. Lucky for us, there's another bus leaving at 9, so we wait. To pass the time I try new kinds of fruit. Jocotes (crunchy green plums with salt), some kind of alien egg sac, and a sweet lemon that tastes mostly like minute maid.

Oddly enough, the crazy tall white girl from the night before was also there. But not dancing. Not yet at least. The bus leaves on time-ish and Sarah and I reminsce about the fond memories of the previous two hours. As we drive up to the concert we see fireworks. Pretty, but not necessarily a good sign. Sarah fears that the concert's already ended, which, as we find out after 500 meters of dark paved road, it is. It's 10:00 and Sting ended 20 minutes ago. But on the plus side I the ticos I talked to said how much they enjoyed him. Sarah and I return to enjoy some fries eaten with toothpicks, and then some bread pudding when we get back to her house. It tasted like waffles soaked in syrup. Pretty good night. More stuff later.