Shefishs Odyssey begains

The Odyssey Begins

With an early morning wake up and one last check of all the baggage, 2 two many cups of coffee I head one last time down off the mountain to the air port in San Jose Costa Rica. Armed with all the new rules and regulations applied to travelers, I have very vigilantly double checked all my luggage to make sure any contra band ( cigarette lighters, Machete, xteen number of cartons of cigarettes, what looks like a exotic chicken farm, orchids, and of course this trusty laptop in which the battery is useless) are all well camouflaged and hope for the best.

Check in time:

Now in order to facilitate an easier handling of all this have to have stuff, i.e. Fishing and camping gear, I have very smartly packed the 40lb red rod carrier, small red 20 lb. gear bag, computer, sleeping bags, boots, thermos, and anything else which could not be crammed into my 60 liter back pack, goes into an old Navy sea bag, 4 grommet rings at the top which fold over a hook allowing the hook on the carrying strap snap this closed, this and a pad lock along with 4 plastic zip straps incase what will easily take 4 men and a mule to carry. The 40+ lb back pack carries my cloths and only a few minor counter ban items mainly 2 orchids wrapped in a pair of socks. This leaves me with only my day pack with a change of cloths, books, and toiletries as carry-on luggage.

Before you even get to the ticket counter to sign in you have to purchase an exit stamp out of Costa Rica. The going rate is $17unless you had over stayed your visa, which I had by about 18 months, then you were required to pay a penalty. (key word were) This rather bothersome detail had been lifted only a few weeks ago to my great joy. So with my $17 in hand I step up present my pass port and am very quickly informed that I owe $40. “ Well you obviously didn’t read the Tico Times a couple of weeks ago informing you that I no longer have to pay the penalty” it only take s 3 minutes of my friendly persuasion and an increasing long line of rather impatient travelers before I am relieved of my $17 and sent on my way.

Check-in desk of course your ask if you have anything to declare, informed as to what you can and can’t check, and instructed to place your place your baggage on the scale. The back pack presented no problem, now the black bag!!!!! “ excuse me madam whose body do you have in this bag?” “Ahhh yes you are only 80lb overweight please step over there and pay for the excess weight” “Let’s see 80lb over the limit X the square root of pi and we come up with a nice round figure of $100” This is said with a some disappointment, apparently hoping it would have been at least 4 times higher.

“ Oh no, according to my ticket fishing tackle is free, but your only allowed 2 bags so all my fishing gear is in that bag.” This brings gales of laughter, followed by a lot of head shaking and reading the high lighted phrase about golf clubs, snow ski’s and fishing tackle. “well we will have to weigh the back bag with out your fishing tackle” “No problem, have you got a knife so I can cut all these zip ties?” 10min later, bag is open and out comes all the red bags, to looks of amazement. By now of course they have to see the rods, reels and look in the side pocket and once again ask if I have any oxygen tanks in the bag. “ No, just this little ole CO2 cartridge for my life jacket, and as you can see it’s never been used.” “Welllll, we’re not sure about this” “ Hey, you just take that pesky ole thing and get rid of it, I need to replace it when I get to where I’m going anyway. Besides I really don’t want you to look in that hat in which I have about 15 wind proof lighters and would really hate to give them up.”

“well, the black bag with out the fishing gear is ok, so I suppose we will let you get by this time”

Takes 3 tico’s and myself to re-stuff the bag.

Bags are checked to Port O Spain with a great sigh of relief and I’m on my way. Passed the security check for carry on with flying colors, all while watching some French lady lament about loosing her manicure kit, disposable razor, 2 cans of hair spray, and hubby’s pocket knife and cigarette lighter.

Arrive Caracas early afternoon, and am forced to stay within the secured area because I have no visa. Only one problem, NO Smoking area. So I spend a lot of time walking through the area in which I am allowed. While on one of these strolls, low and behold here stands a young Swiss fellow in a little dark corner Smoking. I can’t believe this and ask if this is maybe an area where your allowed. “ Nope, but I figured if they don’t catch me I’ll be ok, by the way do you need a light?” So I’ve found a new hobby, searching out dark corners or out of the way places and sneaking a smoke. With 6 hours to cool my heels I manage to find several good spots and even met a lot of other travelers who were just getting started in this new activity

Port O Spain Trinidad

Arrive 11:30pm. Depart 8:30am next morning.

Here I have to claim my baggage, and try to recheck it into BWI so I don’t have to baby sit the stuff all night. Ladies room doesn’t allow the three men and the mule needed to carry the black bag.

After much discussion, all in English thank God, it is decided that I will park the two bags in the customs area, and have them checked in the morning when I check in for the final leg of the trip.

This done I look for a place to sit and wait, after finding out that the airport guest house is full, but the Hilton still has some rooms in the price range of $100+. Thanks but no thanks, I’ll just hang out by the ticket check in, wouldn’t want to miss my flight, and besides I can step out doors to smoke. Unlike San Jose air port, there are taxi’s but the drivers quietly and politely ask you if you need a taxi. “ Good evening Madame may I offer you a taxi service” Almost wanted to go for a ride just because they were so nice. 6 cups of coffee and several cigs, later even Steven King’s latest horror tale can’t keep me awake. So I stretch out on the waiting room chairs for a little rest.

4am after a couple of hours sleep? Coffee time, local chicken place is open 24hrs. and even serves breakfast, what a deal. Breakfast special “ Bake and salt fish” Ok I’m game, the bun was made of coconut, and the fish was flaked salted fish with an assortment of veggies and sauces

guaranteed to boom the lower intestine. But hey, when in Rome……and hope that they have bathrooms every 10 feet. Surprise of surprises, excessive thirst is the only after affect and that necessitates drinking bottle after bottle of water, so the bathroom location is still a major concern.

5:30am. Ticket counter opens and I step up and explain that my checked luggage is parked in the customs area and all they need do is to go back and re-tag it and load it on the plane………Wrong….

No you have to bring it through customs and check it in here. We have to weight it. OK…walk back to reclaim my shit, and am told which corridor to go down to keep from having to go through customs, only thing they forgot was the revolving door does not allow you to go out. So after pushing the cart for what seemed like 5 miles, finally back to the ticket counter, weight the bags….ooops your over the weight limit. Go through the same song and dance about fishing tackle, again unpack the infamous black bag. And even when weighed separately no go, informed that total weight even with free tackle is still ?? over the limit. Step over there and pay up. This time the excess weight X square root of pi = $450

“ What !!!!! There is no way, I’m just a poor little ole lady, no money, and a soon to be heart condition with that price” after much stammering, head shaking, sweat, ( no tears yet) this kind lady ask me if I would like to pay with Credit Card or American Dollars. “ American Dollars???”

“ Yes, the $450 is TT dollars, that’s $40 American. Sold to American, pass 2 20’s and get the hell out of there before they change their mind. This leaves me carrying the red gear bag as carry on, checking back pack, black bag, and the red rod case.

Off to the gate, pass through the security check, OOOPs “ sorry Madame but you’ll have to open the red bag, there is a large square object we need to look at.” (base of my tying vise) “gotta a knife to cut these zip ties?” No need for that, young security officer shows me how to unlock with a ball point pen. So much for fail safe zip ties. Out comes the vise base, one dry bag, one soft side cooler, and oh Shit…..my new leatherman and my lanyard equip with not on my clippers but also small leatherman, and swiss army knife. “ Tell you what, let me just go ahead and check this” explained that it had been in one large checked bag to start and I really did not want to carry that damn thing on board. Back to the ticket counter, check small gear bag, and forgot to tell them that I was already over weight. OH Well…….

8:30am, board twin engine puddle jumper and hope to hell the little red bag that was last to be checked isn’t the straw that will bring down this camel.

9:30 coast of Guyana comes into sight. Little wonder that Guyana is called “land of many waters” Jungle with endless trails of water lays out under our plane.

10:am Georgetown air port. All the forms for immigration filled out, ready to go, but still in the back of my mind is the fact that I am holding a one way ticket, Guyana like most of South America requires onward ticket or deposit covering passage back to where ever you came from.

Step up to the counter, explain that I am here to do some research on the fishing, write about the fishing, and am planning to visit Dianne Mc Turk and her Giant River otters on the Rupununi.

“How long do you plan to stay?” “ 3 months maybe longer if need be” “well just make sure you get an extension if you’re here more than three months, enjoy your visit, enjoy the fishing and good luck”

Now one last trip through customs, “ Do you have anything to declare? “ I declare that I am tired, does that count? “ No, electrical appliances, liquor, ect. “ “Just fishing tackle, one electric hair roller older than I am and a lap top that is also old and slow”

Cheerful laughs, have a nice day and enjoy your visit to Guyana.

The taxi ride into town is another story.

Shefishs Feb. 2002