My motorcycle friend

When I was a girl my favorite anime was about a girl who travelled the world alone with her motorcycle. This was not an ordinary motorcycle, it’s name was Artemis and it could talk. Artemis was her closest friend and invaluable travel companion.

Now I have a motorcycle of my own, and I explore Costa Rica with him. It’s a deep pleasure to do something you’ve dreamt of as a child. Although, it’s too bad that in real life motorcycles can’t talk. Or so I thought.

I spent over a year preparing to move to Nosara. I dedicated myself to getting everything right, find a remote job, practice my Spanish, pack all the right things and make the right financial plans. But whenever I came here, I couldn’t quite find the magic I was looking for. I felt overburdened by my responsibilities at work and with my family, and whenever I tried to engage with the locals I didn’t have the energy to want to connect with anyone. Even worse I felt the closer I tried to get the more isolated and like a stranger I felt. What was I doing here? I was as disappointed as finding that an oasis in the distance was only a mirage.

Meanwhile, I noticed my motorcycle brakes were weak and the engine didn’t start readily. I took him to the mechanic after a month of procrastination. This isn’t a priority right now, I thought, I’ve forgotten my ambitions, I need to find a story to write but I lost inspiration.

Waiting for the mechanic to fix my bike I read a book on philosophy. As I was reading, some voice spoke to me. It told me that what I considered to be the greatest thing a human could achieve is exactly what I am capable of doing.

“This is what you should do”

“What?” I was startled.

“You could do it, you know”

I was triumphant and baffled at the same time. I felt as if I had been fine-tuned.

A month later I found myself fired and decided to stay in Nosara living on my savings. A traveller next door stopped by for a chat and we became friends. Her car had broken down in the rain at 1 in the morning and she was trapped in the jungle with a noise that sounded like a jaguar. Luckily a mechanic friend came to help. She was shaken up by this but also invigorated. She wanted to quit her job and become an artist too, and we talked about this for a long time. This friend told me that my drawings of the local town were good and to continue. She said she could sense my happiness in the drawing and even kept a picture of it.

I was so inspired by this comment that the next day I went out to take some pictures of the town for drawing. I felt like I found my purpose again. Up until then I procrastinated getting a rain cover for the motorcycle because I wasn’t sure if it was worth it, if I was going to sell it later and when. Usually at this point I would get sad and tired and go back home. But today I was happy and I finally I took my motorcycle to the ferretería to get some black plastic. On the way I heard a truth I had known for a long time only in feeling. He said, “the journey only starts when your plans go wrong.”You’re so right, I responded with relief.