It was easy to believe it was invierno, winter, as I moved swiftly south in the frigid air conditioning of Tica Bus. I sat wrapped tightly in my wool scarf and looked out the frosted windows as the brown landscape of Nicaragua passed by. Brown because the rainy season had ended in early November, leaving the sun to scorch the verdant green of the Nicaragua I was introduced to back in April. After an hour long wait to cross the border, my first impression of Costa Rica is that the cars are shinier. I got used to seeing cars held together by ducktape and wishes in Nicaragua – doors long dented closed, windows that didn’t roll down, or missing door panels. In Costa Rica, the cars seem bigger, shinier, newer. As the bus rolled ever southward, the landscape became more verde.
