From Panama City we originally planned on getting a bus all the way up to the south of Mexico. However, being so close to Christmas the only company that did that particular route was completely booked up until the new year. So we figured we'd just do the journey in smaller legs, getting buses as far as we could each time. That meant we had to find a bus to take us to the border of Costa Rica and then once we crossed over jump on a bus to take us to San Jose, the capital city. This was pretty easy, except it had to be the worst border crossing we've done so far. It took about 3-4 hours to get our passports stamped out of Panama, then we had to walk about 1km to the Costa Rican border which was thankfully a piece of piss. Then we only had to wait 20mins or so to get on a bus.
We arrived in San Jose late arvo/early evening and went straight to the office of a bus company in the vain hope we could get straight on another bus that night. Unfortunately we were shit out of luck so we found a hostel for the night. Even after only a couple of hours, we got the feeling that Costa Rica was very expensive and not a particularly welcoming place, so we decided to spend just one night and get up at stupid o'clock to try and get tickets on a 4am bus across the border. Again, it was fully booked so we went to another bus terminal where we lined up for about an hour and finally secured tickets to the Nicaraguan border. That wasn't a mission at all. So at about 5:30am we were on our way, expected to arrive at the border about 5 hours later. However, due to an accident along the way we were stopped in traffic for an hour or two waiting for the road to be cleared. We got moving again, and at some point there were quite a few people standing in the aisle of the bus, and one guy standing next to Kurt's seat fumbled and dropped his wallet which fell under our feet. We searched around to pick it up and Kurt had to get up so we could find it. At that point a woman pushed passed Kurt, turning him around, and soon afterwards a group of people got off at a stop. A couple of minutes later Kurt reached up to check on his small backpack which was in the overhead compartment, but it wasn't there anymore. FUCK!!! After a lot of swearing and yelling Kurt got the driver to pull over and we got off, unloaded our big bags and waved down a cop car. It was at this point that several other passengers on the bus decided to be helpful and proceeded to give the cops a complete description of the group of people that had stolen Kurt's backpack. So they'd obviously seen it happen and chose to do nothing about it. We later figured that the group regularly targeted this bus and the locals were probably too scared to speak out against them. We jumped in the cop car and raced back to the bus stop to see if any of them had hung around. Which of course they hadn't. So we drove to the nearest police station (about 30mins away) to make a report of everything that had been stolen. Which was quite a lot - bet those assholes were happy fucking campers. Kurt's nice new backpack contained: a laptop, 2 cameras, a hard drive, a new Samsung Galaxy S3, Kurt's passport, my credit card and two others for an account we thankfully no longer use, and a few other small electrical items/cords. And by the time I called to cancel my credit card, they'd managed to spend about $500 in less than an hour. Guess they could've racked up a lot more, but still, it was quick work. Oh yeah, and we discovered they'd also taken our other laptop out of my backpack which I'd left on the seat for 5mins while I got off for fresh air when we were stopped in traffic due to the accident. Strangely they didn't take anything else (there was a lot more they could've stolen), so maybe they were just testing the waters. If only I'd opened my bag to get something out because I would've realised straight away and we would've known it was someone who was still on the bus. And there's no way Kurt would've let the bus go anywhere until we found out who it was and had got it back. Good old hindsight ay? Anyway, after making our report and getting a copy for insurance purposes (thank god for travel insurance), we then had to get a bus all the way back to San Jose, as without Kurt's passport we couldn't cross the border.
As there is no Australian embassy in Costa Rica, we had to go to the Canadian embassy as they look after Australian citizens (the Poms look after us Kiwis). It was a Friday afternoon and we got to the embassy at about 1pm, thanking our lucky stars we'd started out ridiculously early that morning and had made it back in time. So we rock up to the counter only to be told that the embassy is closed for their Christmas party. Excuse me? You have got to be fucking kidding! But no, they didn't even leave a poor lackie behind to man the office. A guy who worked in the building walked past and heard our plight, so he tried to help us contact someone. But of course nothing worked so we were fucked until Monday. Obviously our only course of action was to find a hostel and proceed to drink ourselves into oblivion to forget the shittiest day on record. Which we achieved quite successfully.
Being fairly confident we would get the necessary document on the Monday to allow us to leave this shitty country (maybe our opinion was unfairly biased, but then again, maybe not), we went ahead and booked cheap flights to Mexico City on the Tuesday, which is where the nearest Australian embassy was. Convenient, as that was our final destination anyway. So on Monday we got all the required shit together (passport photos, police report etc) and were at the embassy nice and early to get this thing done. But as usual, bureaucratic processes are never quick and straightforward, so we had to wait hours for the Australian embassy in Mexico to approve the emergency travel document for Kurt. We made ourselves comfortable and Kurt even got in a quick nap on the couches. Finally, the woman called us up and handed over the prized document which turned out to be just a sheet of paper with Kurt's details on it. Who cares, as long as it gets us on the plane and out of there. Which it did, although check in and customs officials in both Costa Rica and Mexico had to check with bosses that it was legit.
So as you can imagine, we don't have fond memories or a huge desire to go back and spend much time in Costa Rica. Not that we blame what happened on the country - it could've happened anywhere. And according to all the Costa Ricans who heard what happened, the thieves were clearly Nicaraguan. Obviously. Anyway, we're lucky that that's the only really bad thing that has happened to us in over 12 months of travelling. Touch wood. Things can only get better from hereon in!
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