So this one time..I got robbed..

Alright. Before I tell the story, promise you won't judge. I'll admit, our actions that led up to the robbery were stupid...but just go with me. I trust people…and now, I don't so much. The game plan for the weekend was to go to Puntarenas, spend the night, get on the fairy and go to the peninsula, and eventually make it to Tortuga Island; however, the events of the weekend went something like this:
On Saturday we got to Puntarenas at about 6:30. It was dark, but still early. We had made reservations with any hotels, so we were walking around trying to find one. As we were taking our time scouting out the options, we witnessed one robbery. So we decided that the next place we found would be good enough. We ended up paying $8 per person to stay in Las Cabezas (The Heads). It wasn’t 4 stars, but it was clean and safer than outside. While we were checking in, a man ran in and told the hotel keeper his son had just been robbed outside…Ok…good thing we were inside. We basically ran to a Chinese restaurant to eat dinner, and then went directly back and stayed in. Liza ended up talking to a man from L.A. who has travelled to C.R. a lot…and he had been robbed the day before in broad daylight with a knife on a crowded pier. Slightly disturbing…
On Sunday morning we woke up bright and early at 4 a.m. so we would make the 5 a.m. ferry. On the ferry we watched the sunrise over the islands and mountains. It was a beautiful morning…so far.
When we got to the peninsula, someone told us a bus would be coming around 7, so we ate breakfast and then waited for the bus. When the bus came, we asked if it went to Curú, which is where we wanted to go. However, it did not, so we didn’t board. It wasn’t until we looked at the map that we realized we should have gotten on that bus. Now since it was so early in the morning, there were no other tourists there; therefore, we figured there wouldn’t be another bus for quite sometime, and we didn’t want to waste anymore time waiting, so we decided to walk since it was only 6 km. So we began our journey.
As we were walking, we noticed a 20something old man following us. He seemed to be gaining on us, but we didn’t think anything of it. He eventually caught up to us just as we hit a fork in the road. He asked us if we were going to Curú, and we said yes. So he told us we needed to go left. Now left of us was a gravel road, but it looked well traveled, and right—the way we were going—was paved. However, he IS a native and he should know best. So we started walking on the road to the left. He walked a few steps and then turned and asked us if we wanted him to accompany us…and me…being the fool I am said “If you want to…” Dumb..dumb..dumb.
Anyway, we were walking down this road, and there were cars, and one person even waved to him and said “Hola Antonio” which happens to be the name he gave us. So obviously he didn’t lie about that. He was dressed in Billabong attire and told us he worked at the university. We walked a ways, chatting with him. I asked him if there were taxis and busses there, just in case this was the wrong way. And he said “Yes, many..” Right….
So eventually we ascended a pretty steep hill and I asked him if we were almost there and he smiled and said “yes.” When I got to the top of the hill, it was very beautiful, with a beautiful view of the ocean and jungle; however, it didn’t seem anywhere near a tourist area. Then my friend Liza and I turned around to see this guy with a knife to our friend Mari’s neck. He told us to throw all our money down, so Liza, Jared, Mari, and I all threw our money down on the ground. He also wanted digital cameras. Fortunately for me I didn’t take mine, but the others all threw their cameras on the ground. Then Liza and I were supposed to put the money and electronics in her purse. So we bent down and cleaned up the money, all while Mari had a knife to her throat.
When we got it all picked up he said “Don’t follow me,” and left. We all sat, stunned, when suddenly he came back and told us to empty out our bags. We emptied everything out and he took some more stuff, again said “Don’t follow me,” and left. Again, we sat, unmoving. He returned again and this time told us to take our clothes off. We took our clothes off and then he said “todo” (all). I said “desnudo?” (naked), and he said “sí.” So we took everything off, exposed to this sick, sick man. And he said “Don’t follow me” which at his point we wanted to laugh…did he really think we were going to follow him? And then he left. This time, we threw our cloths on and backed our bags. There was only one road down the mountain, and that was the road he was on. So, we decided to head into the jungle toward the ocean. We figured if we could get the ocean we would be able to work our way around the coast to the pier. Just so everyone is aware, there are poisonous snakes, spiders, and frogs in the tropical rainforest—and we were in shorts and sandals. There is only really one technique to go down a mountain…slide until you can either grab onto or hit a tree. So this is how we travelled. Eventually we found a place where water had washed away the rocks, and we knew that that would eventually lead us to more water, so we followed that. When we got to the bottom of the mountain, we found a trail. We decided to follow the trail, which was going well for us until we heard howler moneys…lot of them. So we decided to use the handy dandy “Lonely Planet” guide book for its reference about howler monkeys. It didn’t say anything about them being dangerous, and honestly, we decided a crazy dude with a knife was more dangerous than monkeys. So we kept going. At this point, a black, cat, jaguar type thing jumped across the trail. Liza basically ran us over trying to get away from it…but again. We decided to take our chances with the animals. So we all picked up some sticks and continued walking. The path led us around the howlers monkeys, and we eventually found a road. We were a little hesitant to follow a road that could eventually lead us to the crazy man again, but we took our chances. We found a payphone, and I called 911 twice; however, the call was cut short both times…cuz surprise…it was broken. Anyway, police eventually came to the beach, but didn’t seem to care much about our story. We eventually made it back to the ferry, back to San José, and back to our host families, alive. It was a dumb mistake, but a good lesson. And we were all just glad to be alive. It could’ve been so much worse. So I hope you enjoyed the story of “what I did this weekend.”