The Yellow Submarine

For about a year, I drove a bright yellow Nissan Xterra. Did I say yellow? I mean drop dead, arrest me, lights-and-sirens yellow. My friends made all kinds of jokes about it on Facebook:

Me: Check out my new car. I’m thinking we’ll call it Bumblebee.

Beth: Guess they will see you coming… and going. Love it.

Rick: They call you mellow yellow

Alison: Easy to find in the rain …does it float? (Little did she know how prophetic that statement would be….)

John: I can have my friend make a large Chiquita Banana Logo sticker for the hood!!

Rick: John, I like your idea, I am making some bumble bee antennae for the roof, now all we need are some stripes.

Alison: Funny . Men with a plan.

Rick: It’s what we do!

John: Can we get the bill from a bill-fish? Gotta have a stinger!!! Or maybe Linda’s got an old AA powered toy that would make a good stinger!

Me: don’t you be disparaging my toys….

Rick: We like your toys, we just want to play with them. Won’t share your toys? All her toys have “horse power.”

John: Gonna stay clear of that one!

Me: All right, I’ve been thinking about it, and I believe I have two words for you all: Big. Bird.

John: A bird rather than a bee? Sooo you’d rather fly around shitting on people than buzz around with your stinger ready for action!

Me: You know, this week I posted a video of me hand-feeding Scarlet Macaws, an incredibly cool experience, and all YOU guys can comment on is my Chiquita Banana Big Bird Bumblebee Buggy. Woah – I like that name.

And there you have it.

A couple of weeks later, some friends and I decided to drive down to Drake Bay to visit my buddy Fred at Hotel Ojala for some awesome deep sea fishing. I love the drive to Drake Bay. Once you pass Rincon, it’s all dirt roads, bad bridges and river crossings, but the scenery is some of the most spectacular in Costa Rica.

Think luscious green fields of horse pasture, with rivers meandering through, dotted by majestic Ceibo trees reaching for the sky. My kind of heaven — if it weren’t so hot and so middle-of-nowhere.

Of course we took the Xterra for the trip. After all, those Xterras are made specifically for off-road driving. Unfortunately, in my excitement to finally get another deep sea fishing trip under my belt (impossible to pass up for this Gloucester girl), I completely forgot about the time of year.

Having driven this route many times over the years, I should have known better. River crossings in the rainy season can be more than a tad treacherous, as we were soon to find out, when the car literally started floating.

“Gun it!” my fellow passengers (all men of course) shouted.
Gun it? What good is that going to do? We are floating, boys. The tires are not going start acting like propellers you know.

We finally made it to the other side, but while we were crossing, the current in the river ripped the license plate from the front of the car. I didn’t realize it until we got back home.

Since I had to take these folks back up to the airport in San Jose in a few days, I beat feet into San Isidro to order a new license plate. In Costa Rica, the Registro (registry) controls all the legal property documents in the country, from real estate to cars. We’re lucky to have a regional office of the Registro right in San Isidro.

To get a new plate, I had to bring a letter from my attorney stating why the plate was missing (at a cost of $50, thank you very much), stand in line, fill out forms, and … your plate will be here on Friday. Here’s your receipt.

Oh Oh. I have to go to the airport on Thursday. It’s going to be a bit dicey, driving seven or so hours up to the airport and back with one license plate missing, in a car that you can “see coming and going.”

So on Thursday, I crossed my fingers, picked up my friends, and headed up the Costanera. I brought the receipt from the Registro as proof that the plate was on order. I mean, really, do they expect me to just NOT DRIVE the car while I’m waiting days for this new plate?

Yes, indeedy, apparently that’s exactly what they expect.
Everything went fine until we were just before the Tarcoles bridge, north of Jaco. There is one spot where the Transitos (traffic police) always set up shop, to catch speeders and other miscreants. When I came driving by in my bright yellow buggy, the officer motioned me to pull over. Oh crap. Here we go.

“Buenas dias señora. Did you know that you are missing your front license plate?” he smiled, leaning in, checking out the other gringos in the car (who had just finished smoking a joint in the back seat, and were trying desperately not to breathe in his face).

“Well, yes, actually it got ripped off when we were crossing a river in the Osa a couple of days ago, ” I said with a big smile, trying to distract him from the giggling fools in the back of the car. “I went to the Registro and ordered a new plate, but it won’t be here until Friday. Here’s my receipt. I had to take my friends to the airport, or I wouldn’t be driving the car. ”

“You know, it’s a REALLY big fine for driving without a license plate,” the officer said, very seriously.

At this particular time, Costa Rica, in its usual not-thinking-about-the-consequences wisdom, had just instituted a new set of traffic fines that were completely outrageous considering the average income level of its populace. For example, $440 for not wearing a seat belt, $700 for speeding (only 12 miles above the speed limit), $500 for talking on a cell phone, etc. It was a political controversy being debated throughout the country at the time.

“I know. These new fines are crazy aren’t they? How do the Ticos afford to pay them, it makes no sense.” I said, batting my eyes, coyly smiling. (Seriously, woman you are too old for this…)

“Oh so you know,” he said surprisingly, “Do you live here?”

“Yes, I live down near Dominical, I have a finca with a lot of horses. Do you like horses, señor?” I said hopefully, trying to become his new best friend. In Costa Rica, making small talk with a big smile is the culturally acceptable method for backpedaling your way out of a sticky situation. So far, so good.

“Well,” he said, smiling with anticipation, “I’ve decided that since you are such a nice person, I’m not going to give you a ticket….but…. it’s a REALLY big fine you know.”

Pregnant pause. He’s waiting for me to whip out the wallet, I know it. Bribery is not only common, it is completely expected in a situation like this. These transitos probably make a month’s salary every day, putting the screws to innocent tourists.

“Thank you SO much señor, that’s really nice of you. I sure do appreciate you not giving me that ticket,” I said, in my most charming, appreciative manner.

He wasn’t quite sure what to do at this point. The bribe he was hinting at just wasn’t forthcoming. So he had to make One Last Try.

“You know, I’m not going to write you a ticket,” he offered, “but it’s a REALLY REALLY big fine.”

“Well, señor, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your kindness. Thank you again.”

“So,” he said, dejectedly, “are you driving your friends to the airport now?”

“Yes that’s right. They have a flight at mid-day.”

“You’ll be coming back this way after you drop them off?”

“Yes, sometime this afternoon,” I said, realizing that my Oh So Easy To Spot car was going to be my downfall.

“Well then you have a good day, señora, drive safe.”

“Thank you again señor. You have a good day too.”

Of course I did NOT drive home via the costanera , knowing full well what would be waiting for me in my Oh So Easy to Spot Yellow Buggy. Instead I went home via the Cierra del Muerte, the mountain road known as the Road of Death. In this case, it was the Road of Savings. Or possibly, the road of People Avoiding Giant Traffic Tickets. In any event, it worked out just fine.

[custom_script adID=97]

Andrew Makarik

to@welovecostarica.com

Andrew Makarik is the main editor of WeLoveCostaRica, a fan of this sunny country. He is also a loving husband and a has a lovely daughter. By being a devoted family man and the biggest Costa Rica fan, he wants to make more people feel at home there. WeLoveCostaRica unites people and helps them find new home or a new travel destination. This website is a friendly community where everyone can find not only information, but also new friends and travel pals. Andrew is also passionate about IT and programming, so he himself maintains a friendly atmosphere in this cozy environment of WeLoveCostaRica.com.