COSTA RICA – LA FORTUNA, VOLCANO ARENAL: THE BUTTERFLY GARDENS

We are staying in La Fortuna near Volcano Arenal, a mysterious entity shrouded in clouds and overcast skies.  Despite postcards displayed in every La Fortuna store depicting lava spewing like fireworks, after 3 days of the same, obliterating weather obscuring any view of the majestic volcano, my brother is beginning to think the Volcano doesn’t really exist. Generally a chill guy, he can be irritatingly calm in comparison to my spastic tendencies.  His grumblings about the unseen volcano are translated into little, casual jokes that come across like a soft breeze rustling a few leaves – barely noticeable except to the sibling ear tuned in to variations of an enviable “whatever” attitude.  I can imagine wondering the same if I had not already seen Arenal with my own eyes, although my grumblings are comparable to the ones made by the fire goddess herself.

COSTA RICA – Meatballs, Meatheads, and Pastafarians

We are seated at Victoria’s, a restaurant in Manuel Antonio. The owner begins chatting with our large group and doing what I think every restaurant owner should do:  giving us various dishes to try on the house.

There was an excellent savory dish of meatballs, tuna with a reduction sauce that everyone wanted details of, and one of my personal favourites, a thin-crust pizza made with chicken and walnuts.

My stomach is arguably the way to my heart.  However, be forewarned: my innocent heart murmur means that I have some heart seepage and leakage.  Everything about my life should make perfect sense because of this but it never does.

I am an enigma. The door to the bathroom of Victoria’s is not an enigma.  The ladies room is the 2^nd door on the right.

IT’S OH SO QUIET…..DONUTS, DENTS & DIMPLES

Yes, I have been oh so quiet for a few days.

I’m still unpacking (seriously!), working, and trying to catch up on sleep while simultaneously trying to go on some sort of a post Costa Rica diet, which basically just entails NOT ordering ALL of the appetizers on the menu.

Easier said than done.

Today somebody kindly brought donuts, and they sat about 4 feet from me.  A partition did nothing to dissuade me from eating more than my fair share along with my impressive array of organic penance snacks from Trader Joe’s. In a moment of pure adolescent selfishness, I even told another person who pretended to take the entire box for themselves that I had licked them all.

COSTA RICA – THE MANGROVES

“So, you’re going to the MAN-grove today?” says Scott with the faintest hint of a smirk.

I laugh, feeling permanently ruined by the way he says mangrove, with the emphasis on MAN, as though we are going to some sleazy jungle night club and not the mangrove kayaking tour some of us have decided upon.

COSTA RICA – CLARO QUE SI, UNTIL NEXT TIME

Today is my last full day in paradise.  I am beside myself with a mixture of emotions, the primary I think being sadness and resistance to my time ending here.  It has gone far too quickly.

Last night I had to say “farewell, until next time” to some lovely friends who are leaving today.  I already miss them and, while I am grateful for the time we had together, I feel greedy like I want more and it will never be enough.

I hate good-byes.  I am terrible at them.  My friends all say the same thing – it isn’t good-bye, it is until next time.

The thing is, we never know for sure.  There is no permanence in life.  There is no such thing as a “sure thing”.  It is the reason I do not make promises anymore.

Quincy And The Queens Of Quepos

Quincy is a well-known man in this area of Costa Rica, and if you come here and haven’t met him around town, you may have seen his pot brownies for sale at la feria in Quepos.  

My introduction to Quincy was some years ago in a bar while with friends.  He was telling us these bizarre stories and talking about strange things finally accumulating in him asking me, “If I were a dog, what would you name me?”

Caught off guard, my reply was something inane while the responses to my Facebook post were more amusing.  My favorite contribution was, “I would name you spot, and then get some spot remover and make you go away.”

COSTA RICA EARTHQUAKE

Yesterday I went to la playa for some much needed sol and had some fun drinking cerveza while writing my last blog post, which was truthful yet poking fun at myself and my inability to pursue travel hardships of any kind.  I was laughing to myself out loud alone on the beach, even occasionally snorting, which just made me giggle harder, and was drinking my 2nd cerveza when I suddenly feel the ground moving. 

EARTHQUAKE!

It didn’t last too long but my body went on high alert.  I looked around and nobody was stopped in their tracks looking about or acting as if they felt anything.  I’ve never been on the beach just meters away from the water during an earthquake before.  Am I being a stupid girl for just sitting here dumbfounded?  Is there even a remote possibility of even a mild tsunami? 

BURY ME SUNBATHING

The overcast sky is a scrim, masking the unrelenting, impervious sun overhead.  In spite of my poor water drinking habits, sweat pools on my upper lip and drips down my face, my arms, my legs. An insect lands on me and I slap it away.  Already a man has noticed and impolitely pointed out the small bruises on my legs – one of the allergic reactions I get to mosquitos, sand fleas, and other critters that bite me. 

COSTA RICA: Circadian Rhythms, Café Con Leche, and “Wild”

One of the nice things about staying at a bed and breakfast is that you get breakfast, except of course when you sleep through breakfast hours.  It was understandable on that first day, because I had slept very little and was exhausted by my travels.  The second day it was more of a bummer and I felt disappointed.  When I finally went to breakfast on the third day, I was filled with appreciation, not just for the juice, food, and café con leche, and the glorious view, but the conversation.  It is a great way to meet other travelers.  Sharing a table with strangers over food breaks down a barrier, I suppose in the same way that sharing an airplane seat with the arm rest up lifts a kind of mental barrier.  People are more apt to talk when what is mostly a mental line of separation disappears.

COSTA RICA – DEPARTURE AND ARRIVAL

DEPARTURE

There is a man exerting great effort in some bizarre version of a power-walk up the hill of the residential area in San Bruno, California where I have parked my car at my cousin’s house in preparation to leave for Costa Rica.  The man might actually be running in slow motion. He has a rope tied about his waist.  My mind can’t make sense of it all for a minute as my eyes follow along the taut length of the rope and see it is dragging a tire along the cement.  Across the street, I exhale a plume of smoke out my car window and fumble for my camera to capture what my mind can barely make sense of and what is in direct opposition to my current desires; to rest my body, soul, mind, and heart on my favourite beach in Costa Rica and do nada.

A part of me detests this man because he is a reflection of myself on a daily basis, trudging up the insurmountable mountain of life, dragging a metaphorical tire along the way, using every ounce of energy, and having something which is already difficult be much more challenging.  It is not of my own volition; I am not training for something for fun or glory or simply to get in shape.

Costa Rica Article Published On We Said Go Travel Website

Thank you to We Said Go Travel for publishing my article “To Costa Rica With Love” on their website!

By Naomi Fino

For those who know me, Costa Rica is the love of my life, and I had the opportunity to write about that love back in February while enjoying my last days of a 6 week stay.  While it was impossible to include all of the stories, experiences, and details that spanned over so many years, this article captures a few key highlights. I had this up on my other blog but neglected to add it here, so I am doing so now in an effort to get them in synch. I hope you enjoy it!

To Costa Rica With Love

“15 years ago, I fell passionately in love, not with a person, but with a place.  On my last night in Costa Rica, while sitting on the balcony of a hostel in San Jose surrounded by my sister and friends, my heart surged with the resistance one feels when parting with a loved one and I broke down in tears and cried.  There have been many return visits since that first trip, sometimes with family members, sometimes with friends, and often as of late, by myself.   This is the last week of a 6 week visit to Costa Rica, and the familiar feel of heartbreak has descended, like the first spattering of rain that falls, gathering force until it becomes a torrential downpour, so deafening and fierce, that it is impossible to hold a conversation without shouting.”

To read the full article, please click here: We Said Go Travel – To Costa Rica With Love

Travel Update Numero Seis

Note: For those of a more uninterested, lazy, eager, or busy sort, photograph links can be found by scrolling to the bottom.  There is a fair amount but I can only edit so much with a slow computer and internet connection. 

LEFTOVERS

I feel I never really wrapped up my Costa Rica blog so this is going to be a mish-mash of leftovers.  There were so many things I left out from funny things that people said; amusing conversations such as the “Veggie Tales” by Toni and Cate, which I would need a magical wand and fairy godmother skills for in order to transform from inappropriate to appropriate, things I saw or felt while in Costa Rica, or people I met.  I was so exhausted from moving and trying to pack for 3 months of travel and then the actual travelling with 4 pieces of luggage (believe me, I KNOW) that I didn’t mention how my mom drove me to San Francisco and dropped me off at Charlie’s house where we were able to indulge in a bottle of Cristal given to me as a gift (thanks, Russ!) and I was able to finally give Charlie his Christmas gifts.  The word “hussy” was used a couple of times at my wrap jobs but to watch him enjoy one of his gifts immediately was a delight.  I swear I even saw a prance in his step.

I showed Charlie the new glasses I bought last minute so I would have an extra pair while travelling.  He said I looked like a lesbian or bi architect. I laughed and gave him crap because he had made fun of my tea selection once calling it “lesbian” and told him that he is always calling me a little “bi”.  He said something like, “You are getting a little bi”, and I replied, “I get bi with a little help from my friends”.   I will never look at that Beatles song the same way again.

Travel Update Numero Cinco

This is my last night in Costa Rica.  I should have gone to the beach or Quepos to do the errands I wanted, or even to watch the sunset, but my heart wasn’t in it.  My heart did not want to say good-bye.

Before I left for La Fortuna, I watched the sunset from Manuel Antonio while finishing eating the pipa that was hacked open with a machete by the street vendor. I had gone to see Pamela, a woman I met through Jean Paul some years before, to say hello.  It was good to see her but sad to hear of the recent deaths in her family and to see her so tired and sad.  I walked back to El Sol slowly, chewing on my pipa contemplatively and pausing at some concrete steps leading to the beach.  Many people were on the beach, some trying to capture the moment with their expensive cameras propped on tripods, some standing in silent observation holding a beer in salutation, and others oblivious almost, talking amongst themselves as if the sun revolved around their conversation.  I watched the sunset, but I also watched the people watching the sunset. I took it all in as one inhales the scent of the ylang ylang at midnight, delicately, passionately.  As the sun bid its daily adieu, an ovation sounded from pockets of people in tessellated form, mimicking the water reflecting the vanishing light. I stood, the silent observer, and the first line or title of a poem formed in my mind born of raw emotion: I want to yank the sun back.  The rest of the poem was inchoate, but I could feel it swelling inside my soul as surely as the sun disintegrated in the sea.  Perhaps this is why I did not want to see the sunset tonight – I did not want to feel that overwhelming urge to yank the sun back or to verbalize that emotional landscape.

It has been an interesting couple of weeks since I last wrote about bungee jumping with Minor.  I skipped over many days and experiences, such as going with Lourdes and Minor to the fair in Parrita with a local cowboy flair to it all, trick roping included.  Dan and Scott left to go back to Wisconsin and I was a bit sad I didn’t get to say a proper good-bye (although that was partially my bad planning fault – sorry Dan and Scott! Can we have a do-over?) Toni and Craig went back to Nevada with Cate and David following soon after to California.  I got sick and a week went into warp mode.  Before I knew it I was meeting Peter, Doug, Tim and Burt for a wonderful lobster and meatloaf surf and turf dinner before they departed back to New York and Texas respectively.  They refused to call it a good-bye party or to say good-bye at all opting for something along the lines of see you later or until next time.  I like the way they think!  Juliana was there with Glenn and Jaydon, the adorable little boy Peter, Doug and I had babysat.  Cynthia was there too, along with some new faces and one familiar face I had seen around.  It was strange being in a place so long that I watched friends come and go.

I must admit the constant influx of friends certainly kept me busy and I was able to finally catch up with Jean Paul after about a month had gone by.  He had mentioned he had hurt his knee but I didn’t suspect how bad it was until he said he needed surgery.  I asked him on the phone if he needed anything and he said he needed a “Chief” in his French accent.  What he meant was a “Chef” and, even though he was joking, I took a taxi to his place and made him lunch.  This ended up ranking as my 2^nd favourite cooking experience because the organic waste from chopping vegetables could be thrown directly out the open kitchen window.  I had a lot of fun throwing things out the window and that is now my favourite way to prep food.  Defenestration while cooking?  I’m in!

Once my friends had gone, I figured it would be easy to continue my Brazilian “bunda” tanning and I would have loads of time to do everything on my list.  This place tends to attract some pretty cool people though and I found myself meeting some really nice, interesting people.  Sabrina was one person I met and hung out with one night at La Mariposa, having cocktails while chatting and floating in their infinity pool and hot tub.  As we left the power went out and, as we walked down the hill with a flashlight, she told me to look up and I almost staggered at the sight of all of the stars in the darkened sky.  Grace and Doug were also here around the same time and it was fun to get to know them on the porch.  We had planned to meet one evening at La Mariposa but a strange thing happened.

I have been to La Mariposa many times now and usually have a wonderful time.  This particular night however, the bartender was a different guy and not attentive.  When I finally ordered and received my drink, it didn’t taste good at all as though there was no alcohol in it and was super sweetened to the point of making me feel sick.  I couldn’t get an internet connection, a really weird wasp-like insect I have never seen before buzzed me along with another strange insect, and I think something small pooped on me – nothing messy but I still recoiled from it.  More than that, the vibe there was really weird that night and I didn’t feel comfortable at all with the insects or the staff. Even when I walked in the guard questioned me although she had seen me before.  I’m not one to complain or not finish my drink, but I actually closed out the tab without finishing the drink and took off.   I walked towards the bus stop and every car that passed me contained eyes that almost glared at me.  I wondered what the hell was going on for me to be feeling such an uncomfortable vibe – was something going on that I was sensing or was I putting out some kind of negative energy?

I fled like a horse back to home straight to El Sol, since they are always so nice to me there, and hopped on the bus that took me down to the beach.  It was almost an immediate relief from negativity and discomfort as I walked into El Sol. I noticed a woman sitting at a table as I said my hellos to everyone there.  I took a seat along the balcony with a spectator’s view, and a little while later noticed her nearby.  We got to talking and she ended up being this really amazing woman full of insight, humor, and an independence you can’t tether without getting a well-deserved metaphorical slap in the face.  Basically I adored her from the get-go and more so with every turn of the conversation.   At one point we discussed writing (she writes as well) and when I sulked over my lack of formal education for my “portfolio”, she offered encouragement for me to go for it anyway and said in her New Zealand accent, “M-B-A; W-A-N-K”.  I laughed and laughed at her concise expression of how I mostly felt inside about that topic. We had a lot of drinks that night starting with mojitos then graduating to tequila shots after Keith joined us.  We closed the place down and Vanessa and Ronald were kind enough to give us all rides back to where we were staying as the street was deserted at such a late hour.

My night had made a 180 degree turn.  I was so uncomfortable where I was before – it was like I was in some alternate universe where everything was screwed up and wrong – and it WAS wrong.  After all had transpired, I felt sure that I was supposed to be at El Sol to meet Lisa, not at La Mariposa that night.  I had felt terrible about leaving before Grace and Doug got there because they were so nice and I was looking forward to hanging out with them, but in hindsight it had nothing to do with them – I was just supposed to be in a different place.

It made me think about other times I’m just “not feeling the vibe” and it also reaffirmed for me how important it is to pay attention to your intuition, even when it goes against all reason or you don’t understand it.  Something deep inside of us propels us forward, if we only take a moment to listen, and if we don’t, we will be served crappy cocktails, buzzed by bizarre insects, made to feel uncomfortable at every turn, and get pooped on until we do, which is probably an unfortunate but apt comparison for the last several years of my life.

Now life is different because I am in a place I adore.  6 weeks has not been enough time in Manuel Antonio and Quepos. I was able to tear myself away for a couple of nights to go to La Fortuna with Fran (I mostly call him Fran because that is how I met him but he is also Francisco, Frank, or Puto).  Before I left I paid a visit to Quepos to have Bernardino fix my necklace.  There was no way I was going to Volcano Arenal to visit the Fire Goddess with a broken fire goddess necklace.  Call me superstitious or crazy but I take care to pay my respects in that place.

Fran and I had set off on Friday via Interbus to travel the roughly 6 hours it takes to get to La Fortuna from Quepos as the only passengers.  The driver asked if we wanted to take a shortcut that involved taking a dirt road for 15 minutes and we said sure.  I guess some tourists complain about such things, which I think is silly. As we bounced along the road Fran joked that as long as it wasn’t like the movie “The Wrong Way” it was okay, but even if it was he could run faster than me which is all that mattered.  Every travel companion should start off 3 days together with stating exactly how and when they will ditch you to be murdered.

Fran has an adorable personality and makes me laugh and smile with his way of saying things, genuine excitement, intelligence, and playboy attitude combined with one of the better hearts I’ve seen in a person.  We arrived at Los Lagos at dark but were able to make it down to the hot springs, pools and wet bar for some cocktails and food for a couple of hours before closing but missed our opportunity to get towels.  We went down the slide that ran into the hot pool with the wet bar and then he wanted to go down the other more wicked slide.  I resisted stating I don’t like cold water and that one dumps you into the colder pool.  He made fun of me that I would jump off a bridge but didn’t want to go down a slide and I suddenly felt obligated to grit my teeth at a little cold water.  We ran up the steps past the pool with a fake volcano to the top of the slide and he said, “You first.”  I squealed no way that we would go together down the wicked slide that goes underground in a tunnel before it dumps you into the pool.  I wrapped my legs around him and held my glasses in my hand as we edged into position then we were off, sliding and gaining speed in the dark, through a mini waterfall that got water up my nose and twisting and turning until we got dumped into the water.  Of course with my legs wrapped around Fran my ankles banged against the slide the whole way down and I got a tiny gash on my ankle  – a small price to pay for such exhilarating fun!  Later we noticed the sign said only one person at a time and we laughed at yet another rule we broke while staying there (and yes, there were a few).  I know….Chica Mala!

The next day we visited the crocodile, cayman, frog, ant and butterfly gardens on the property while sipping our coffee then had a buffet breakfast.  We also went into town to get some medicine and Fran got some helpful advice from the pharmacist, which I was very happy for.  We headed to Tabacon Springs for an all day visit and Fran was in disbelief when I mentioned we should have the taxi come back at 10 p.m. but I told him to trust me – it is easy to spend all day there – and it was!

It was a joy to see Fran’s excitement at seeing everything from the volcano to even the fish at Los Lagos.  He talked to the koi fish and commented about how people consider them lucky but how lucky are they if they are then stuck in a tank.  I had never thought of it like that and had to agree.  We had fun in the new Shangri-La section at Tabacon for adults only that had various posh oversized couches and cushions tented with curtains for 2 to doze off in or relax with a book.  We came back later after lunch to find they were all taken and sat in the last available swinging bench.  I told him he should go kick someone out jokingly and he got up and disappeared.  Finally, I went to find him and he was laying down in one of the tents.  I climbed in beside him and he told me he had kicked someone out.  When I inquired further, he explained he had told two people that he had been in there earlier but left because he had seen a snake and the tourists were quickly out of there.  I exclaimed that I had been joking but was amused by the situation and guiltily grateful to have a place to rest after we had gorged on lunch.  We both passed out for a little bit and it was blissful.

The whole day was about relaxing, eating, and drinking.  There was also a lot of exploring done and Fran had fun goofing off with the statues there in front of the camera.  I figured we would eventually hit my goddess rock, a spot I had discovered some years back that not many people make it to but we didn’t and I began to fear it had been renovated or changed.  Later we sought it out and found my goddess rock – a perfect rock to lie on and have the hot water rush all around you.  We gorged ourselves on dinner again and at some point late in the evening Fran noticed a little Chinese man statue near the entrance.  He pointed at the statue and said with a huge cheeky grin, “I want to take a picture with that guy!” and the tourist that happened to be passing by in front of the statue just saw Fran pointing at him saying, “I want to take a picture with that guy!” and did the “Who, me?” look.  We laughed at the amusing scenario.

The next day we were going to do zip-lining but woke up to rain and decided to cancel the tour.  We had some final dips in the hotel hot springs and runs down the slide before leaving La Fortuna back to Quepos/Manuel Antonio for my final days.

I did make it to the beach one of the days and definitely got some sun.  I had one of Jose’s empanadas and a cerverza from Jimmy and hellos and kisses from each, not realizing that would be the last for this trip.  I made my way to El Sol to retrieve my hula hoop I had let Vanessa borrow while I was in La Fortuna.  It was funny giving her a lesson on the roof top of El Sol.  Her kids played with it as well and it was an amusing surprise eating dinner on the 2^nd story balcony and seeing a hula hoop roll into the street.  I leaned over the railing and said, “Is that my hula hoop?!”  I went down and gave the kids a quick hula hoop lesson and explained to please not roll it in the street.  The last thing I needed was a car accident due to a wayward hula hoop.

I carried the hula hoop back on the bus feeling a touch awkward.  When I got off the bus I was in full view of El Gato Pescadoro, the fish in chip restaurant owned by Jarek and Sally, and I see Sally laughing at me and my hula disembarking.  Being aware of how the scene looked, I cracked up too and came down for some yummy fish balls and onion rings.  She was kind enough to show me the recipe to confirm that no, there really wasn’t any cheese in the savory fish balls.  Que delicioso!

I came back with my hula hoop to Rachel and Evan sitting on the porch, and Evan gave the hula a go.  He was actually pretty good!

Aside from my demonstrations, I never practiced hula like I had wanted to.  I was too busy with friends this trip.  I didn’t even do very much poi aside from a few practice sessions and the night I was drunk and stupid and burned myself.  However, on my last beach day I did break the poi out and found a sheltered and shaded spot set back from the beach.  I wanted to spin ON the beach but didn’t want to leave my bag.  I ended up asking an older couple if they could watch my bag and was able to spin a little of my heart out on the beach at the edge of the water.  Some woman took video of me and it is weird to know I am on the camera of a stranger.  I think I may have accidentally flashed her when my sarong did a “so wrong” move. I’ll just consider that part of my Brazilian bunda training.

The older couple, Benoit and Claire from Canada, was delightful and we ended up chatting for some time before I thanked them again for watching my bag that allowed me to spin poi and wandered down my favourite beach for the last time……this trip.

I might as well say it: I want to move here.  I don’t know how or when, but for the first time after vacillating back and forth for 15 years and the question being posed countless times, my heart feels clear that I am happiest here in Costa Rica.  Some of you are probably thinking yeah, yeah, yeah, we knew this already.  If you have talked to me in-depth then you should know that it isn’t simply about desiring to move here – I’ve had that since the first trip 15 years ago.  It is about envisioning life here and getting to that point where it not only seems possible, but it is a possibility that I want to work towards making a reality.  How glorious would life be to be in a place you love doing what you love with someone you love?

I was able to have a nice last night at El Sol with Anita, Nuria, Daniella, Minor and Fran who joined me to say good-bye…for now…until next time.

Now I’m off to Brazil.  I decided to fly Sansa to San Jose to stay here every last moment possible, and then I catch a flight around 5:30 to Rio de Janeiro stopping off in Colombia briefly.  Tomorrow morning I will wake up in a new country and start a new adventura, although don’t be fooled – I will be constantly thinking about how I can get back to Costa Rica to, at the very least, give living here a try.

With Beauty, Fire, and Change,

~Naomi

 

Travel Update – Numero Cuatro

 “A Life Lived In Fear Is A Life Half-Lived”

Yes, that is a quote said in the movie “Strictly Ballroom”, which is one of the better dancing movies to watch as it combines dancing with funny over-the-top comedy-drama a bit like “Zoolander” , and your perfunctory romance story (yes, I am a total romantic at heart), except this one is actually in the believable spectrum.  Perhaps it is inclusion of lines like the one above that nudges it higher up the metaphorical dancing pole than the rest.  Perhaps it is the reminder to stay true to our hearts and ourselves; that recurring, timeless story that so many ignore, yawn during, or fool themselves into thinking they are doing when really, it is just BS.

Another example of BS is when someone tells you to trust them, or that they are not scared to jump off of a bridge.  Your BS radar should be bleeping madly at you.  However, (you’ll have to hear me out fully), I wasn’t that scared to jump – trust me.  Hahaha.

Before I jump too far ahead of myself though, let me go back to that bit about FEAR. I’m not just talking about jumping off a bridge fear, but ANY fear, so let’s say fear of driving in Costa Rica.  Yes, I have had a fear of driving in Costa Rica for 15 years now.

My first trip to Costa Rica was supposed to be with my best friend.  I had decided a tropical vacation with her sounded much better than the trip to Europe I had been saving up for with my sister after she made a comment about how she couldn’t wait for me to get off the plane and be “tired, hungry, jet-lagged, and lost”.  Sadly, she never passed the test to become a travel agent or a flight attendant.  So I took my hard earned cash, double-confirmed with my best friend she was still in, and then purchased tickets to Costa Rica on my lunch break.  I came back and randomly overheard some co-workers mentioning a 1.800 horoscope hotline number that I used to call but had forgotten about.  Hearing the number again, I decided to call it for fun and the voice on the other line indelibly said, “DO NOT MAKE TRAVEL PLANS TODAY.  THEY WILL BE DISASTEROUS.”  No joke; that one is burned on my memory because it was so…..definite and specific and totally unhoroscope like.  Horoscopes were supposed to be vagueness wrapped in uncertainty about some fortune cookie opportunity: “Someone you’ve been flirting with may be making his/her move soon so be at least partially prepared and have some fun because you have been working hard and deserve these astrological blessings!”  “A surprise is headed your way in the near future!”

So um yeah, that horoscope got to me.  As it turned out, my best friend couldn’t make it and my other sister volunteered to go with me and meet me there on a separate flight.  We had one flimsy plan: to meet at a youth hostel in CR, which in hindsight was utterly ridiculous.  However, thunderstorms in Texas delayed me and I missed my flight to CR.  I decided to embrace the plan change and, after alerting family as to the change in plans, ordered enough food for 2 people and started my vacation there in Texas.  It was going to work out perfectly, as my sister and I were now on the SAME flight to CR because of the thunderstorm.  However, me being on vacation and well…me being me, I was taking my sweet-ass time having breakfast and writing in my journal when I get a frantic call from Sarah saying, “Naomi!  Where are you?!”  I reassured her I would be there shortly and wrapped everything up to check out of the hotel at the airport and get on one of those people movers.  Maybe it would have been fine except I got on the people mover going in the wrong direction. At every stop the doors would open for an eternity to a throng of nobody with that irritating, discombobulated voice echoing in the nearly empty early morning at off-beat intervals while I looked at my watch – 10 minutes until my plane takes off, 5 minutes until take-off……and……I just missed my plane.

Suddenly, I remembered that I had set my watch about 10 minutes fast and asked a guy on the people mover to confirm the real time.  The TX airport is pretty big, and I RAN through that airport to my flight and the doors literally closed behind me and the plane started moving as soon as I got on board while Sarah stood up and made some well-deserved exclamation.

I won’t go through all of the “Adventuras” of that first vacation, except for a couple more salient ones.  We had met 3 awesome people in San Jose and ended up travelling with them the whole time. One morning we were nursing hangovers and eating breakfast at an open-aired joint in Montezuma in our bikinis.  I’m sitting there when this bird poops all over me.  Everybody starts laughing and Sarah, of course wants a picture of this, so I run screaming to the bathroom to avoid my “pooparazzi” sibling.  I wash it off and when I come back out, the owner of the bird is laughing at me – the kind of laughing that isn’t unrestrained like my sister’s, but the kind where he is trying not to laugh and can’t help it, so it is even worse, until he finally says to me, “No, no, no – it’s GOOD LUCK!”  Yeah, right, Mister.

Days later we are on a bus headed to La Fortuna area and I’m eating something when BAM! I get jerked forward and backwards sharply.  It takes me a second to realize we just got into a bus accident.  I am ashamed to admit that my first thought was, “Watch the bags!” but I knew theft was an issue and had imprinted “watch the bags” on my brain.  People were hurt in that accident and, once we got off the bus, I remember the man holding his bleeding head in his hand and the woman holding her small baby and children crying.  I remember Chris saying, “We aren’t going anywhere on that bus – look at the front”, and all of us gathered outside realizing that the entire front was smashed in, we weren’t going anywhere, and we had no clue where we were in the country.  As a light rain started to fall and civil twilight faded, I noticed we were not that far from a bridge and a river. I couldn’t help but wonder if that bird pooping on me really was good luck and maybe canceled out the horrible horoscope I had received.

I saw other car accidents on that trip. On later trips I saw other bus accidents with all the dazed passengers huddled by their luggage outside, or other vehicle collisions that resulted in the roads being blocked.  Far too many times when the cause of traffic was questioned the answer was, “Muertos”, or “Muerto”.  I remember hearing that then seeing a sunset with nothing particularly beautiful about it, except for the fact that I was alive to see it and the people in the jeep that had been hit and were “Muertos” weren’t.  You remember such sunsets, if for nothing else then for these people you didn’t even know as you pass them by, unable to appreciate the beauty of an unspectacular sunset.

Don’t get me wrong….I love and miss that part of Costa Rica where buses would pass 2 big rigs on a windy mountain road and you would close your eyes and just pray with nothing else to do.  I miss fast drivers and sitting there with the wind blowing in my hair, passing cars with no seat-belt on.  It felt dangerous.  It felt and tasted like freedom.  Maybe I was just a dog in my past lifetime….a bitch, with the love of the wind in my soul.

I am telling you all of this so you understand why I was so scared to drive in Costa Rica and that this fear had a good 15 years and many trips to really settle in and get comfy.  For me, the safest place to be was a bus.  At least if you were hit on a bus, you had a chance of survival.  I have carried that fear with me for years and on Tuesday, I decided I should break that fear – since I’ll be throwing myself off of a bridge and all.

So Tuesday was the big jump day! Minor and I met in Quepos at the Alamo to pick up the car rental.   He was full of excitement and nervous energy, said he woke up at 3 a.m. that morning and didn’t eat breakfast.  I woke up at around 6 a.m. to a sore throat and not feeling so well and chanced a breakfast of fruit and eggs. Anita had heard eggs are hard to digest and offered me French toast, but after a bit of internal debate, I went with the eggs and hoped enough was digested before our 1:00 p.m. jump. The guy at the Quepos Alamo, Elvis, was super friendly and laughed at what we were going to do.   They did not have a GPS there but said we could stop at the Alamo in Jaco to pick one up.   No hay problema!

Actually, it was a problema.  Getting to Jaco was easy, but the Jaco Alamo people didn’t seem like they knew what they were doing, so we spent about 45 minutes there and I was getting irritated. Having used one before in Florida, I became very uncertain as to whether I should spend the money on one when we had a map. Did we really need it anyway? Finally, some nice Canadian guys got it to work after some minutes of them trying and we were on our way.

The car I rented was mid-sized and they gave me a manual.  Good thing I can drive a stick!  The clutch was far more sensitive than my car so it made for a couple of initial hiccups, mostly going from 1^st to 2^nd gear, then OHMYGOD! NAOMI IS DRIVING IN COSTA RICA!!!!

The funny thing is that this was equally as terrifying to me as jumping off a bridge.  Hopefully it wasn’t as equally terrifying to poor Minor, who got a taste of what it is like to drive with me.  I also explained my road math to him:

40 kph =’s 60 kph

60 kph =’s 80 kph

80 kph =’s 100 kph

Simple! Facil!

When you are on your way to any adrenaline inducing activity, there is always a certain tension and joking around.  I passed by a sign that said “Se Vende – $10 / meter” and I said, “Me gustaria dos meters” and Minor added in that it was for his “body”.  Black humor, baby – it happens! We certainly looked at every bridge we crossed in a different way, and every so often we talked about how we are two crazy people, dos locos, to be doing this.

The GPS wasn’t needed at first, and we asked directions at a toll booth to make sure it was on point.  At first we both had the, “shut up, you b*tch!” attitude towards the GPS, but eventually she became “Maria” and we would shush to hear Maria’s sexy commands, “In 200 meters, turn…..LEFT” and make our own attempts at imitating her.  It quickly became clear how dependent we were on Maria because in Costa Rica, street signs are severely lacking once you get off the autopistas.

Maria got us to Tropical Bungee just fine and then it was game on; time to jump off a bridge.  And sure, it scared me a normal, natural amount, but just as much as driving in Costa Rica scared me.  YO! I got this!

After visiting the office to sign our lives away and verify we hadn’t consumed any drugs or alcohol pre-jump, Minor and I drove out to the bridge. At one point in the car, he started talking out loud in Spanish and I guiltily thought, “Oh my god, is he praying for his life in Spanish? What have I done?!”  He explained it was some sort of mental/spiritual preparation though.  We parked and walked out to the bridge to meet the 2 Tropical Bungee Jump Masters.  One of the jump masters jumped to show us an example of how to do things.  When he came up his hands were shaking and he said that no matter how many jumps you do, your hands always shake because it isn’t natural to jump off a bridge.  After his jump, Minor wanted to go first.  We listened to the instructions the best we could and were fitted with the gear, but Minor seemed in a far-away place; jittery, but in good spirits. When I asked him if he wanted to look over the bridge he said no, he didn’t want to see it.  His jump came up fast and I filmed it (I even screamed for him on the video).  When he came up his hands were shaking from the adrenaline, and he became the first of us “dos locos” to become a survivor.

I was next.  I’ve jumped out of a plane before so I figured the hardest part about jumping off a bridge was making that decision all by yourself to JUMP.  I figured if I could just get past that logical fear by putting all my faith in the thought that the equipment was safe, these guys knew what they were doing, and plenty of people survived bungee jumping, that it would be fairly easy. However, when you forcefully derail one logical thought process in your mind, a side effect of this is that it can derail OTHER logical thought processes.

So….Straps were double-checked, instructions repeated while I did my best to concentrate on them, and then suddenly I’m up on the platform putting the bungee between my legs, toes out to the ledge, and before I have too much time to even think about whether I am scared or not, they are counting down, “FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE!”  I think it was “ONE!”, but maybe they said “JUMP!” I just took a leap of faith that it would all be fine because they are professionals – a leap of faith off the platform attached to a 265 foot bridge.  You can bet I shut my eyes when I jumped and screamed and laughed with the falling sensation, then BAM! The bungee catches me and swings me back to the other side of the bridge.  This is where it got a little complicated.  I love a good ride, especially one that makes me scream and laugh at the same time, but suddenly I felt like the ankle straps were slipping off my feet.   It felt like someone had hold of my ankles and was leaning me over the edge of something with me just dangling there, proposing to let go.  It was that kind of fear but intensified by 1000 because below me is the river that is so low, rocks bulge out of it.  With each swing of the bungee, I felt my ankles slipping and I tried to straighten out my feet like a Cirque de Soleil trapeze artist while thinking, “Oh hell no! Please don’t tell me I would have survived the jump just fine if only the damn ankle straps hadn’t slipped during the swinging portion!”  THAT was the scariest part of the jump, my friends – thinking that I was going to freakin’ die because the ankle straps weren’t tight enough.  However, had I not deluded my own LOGIC, perhaps I would have remembered that I was tethered not only by the ankle straps, but by another cord hooked to the harness around my legs and waist.  So the jump was awesome, the swinging part made me think I was going to die, but when I got a hold of the rope they reel you in on and knew I was safe, I could relax and allow myself to feel that mixture of exhilaration and oh-my-god fear that adrenaline junkies pay good money to achieve.  My hands were shaking like crazy, and how could I not laugh hysterically and repeat, “Oh MY GOD” over and over?  When I mentioned the ankle straps slipping they said, “Oh yeah, that happens all the time but they won’t come off”.   When Minor offered me a swig of the rum, I took it without hesitation.  I loved the jump, but that swinging ankle-slipping bit had me seriously scared. They should freakin’ tell people that BEFORE they jump! Or is escaping death part of the thrill of living?

Minor and I walked away with 2 bungee survivor t-shirts and relied on Maria to guide us back to Jaco, where we had a very late lunch.  By then I was feeling really crappy and I knew I was already sick, but I also knew I had to get us safely back even though I was sick, tired, and coming down off a huge adrenaline rush.  I wish I felt good enough to go out for a drink with Minor but I went home instead.  I managed to email my mom briefly so she knew I was alive then crashed out early. Tackling 2 fears in one day can be exhausting, but I know that on Tuesday, I lived life to the fullest.

Link to pics:  (last one is actually a video shortened a bit; still waiting for videos from the Bungee place)

http://www.naomifino.com/Travel/Costa-Rica/Bungee-Jumping-in-Costa-Rica/27888336_FQVjrq#!i=2353451163&k=zsJkvbm

Plague Girl – Sick In Costa Rica

I suppose my fatigue on Monday should have warned me, but by Tuesday’s bungee jumping adventura I knew I was coming down with something and by the end of the day I knew I was done for.  Wednesday I was out of commission except to do a couple of critical errands with the car rental, including returning it.  I am finally feeling a little better, thanks to Anita’s suggestion I get Antiflu-des from the pharmacia, the x-pect tea she gave me, and the soup she made and brought down for me the other night for dinner (I probably wouldn’t have eaten if it wasn’t for Anita).  It isn’t much fun being sick in tropical weather because you get so hot and are sweating, but can’t tell if it is a fever or just the heat.  Wednesday night I went through the typical night sweats followed by shivering chills that indicate when a fever is being broken, so I think it’s safe to say sans a thermometer that I was running some kind of temperature.   I’m going to pick up some more of these Antiflu-des pills because they pretty much rock!  Why doesn’t America have access to these?  I’ll just add this to the list of medications and other items that are better in Costa Rica than America.

I’m still going super easy and trying to get better for Peter, Doug, Tim & Burt’s good-bye fiesta on Saturday.  I don’t want to be “Plague Girl” like I am right now.  I know I’m even more behind on writing and have skipped over many days and adventuras, but I can always back-track as I’ve been doing that a bit anyhow.  And I will catch up on emails soon – I absolutely love hearing from all of you!

AIR MAIL

This will be a short post, partly to amuse Dave, who is sick right now, and partly just to prove I can do it.

I read a funny book that David (Cate & David) let me borrow when they first arrived.  It’s a short read and took only a couple of hours.  It is called, Air Mail Letters from the world’s most troublesome passenger by Terry Ravenscroft

It consists of letters fabricated and written by Terry Ravenscroft (a trouble-making passenger to the extreme) and real responses from various airlines.  The book follows a style of polite but highly inappropriate questions or bizarre requests from T Ravenscroft followed by occasional indignant outbursts. Many parts reminded me of a particular person from a past life who had a similar style of bizarre politeness laced with undeniable toxicity that was obvious to about the same ratio of respondees in Terry’s book – except this person was, in my humble opinion, just one really messed up individual for real.

Here is one letter he wrote (to read the rest of the communique between the parties you’ll just have to check out the book, which I’m hoping is on Amazon since Cate & David bought it in England):

British Midland

Donington Hall

Castle Donington

DERBY

DE74 2SB

 

Dear British Midland

I am writing this letter on behalf of a friend who hasn’t got the gift of letter writing.

In a few weeks’ time my friend and his wife will be travelling with your airline to Amsterdam (lucky devils!).  My friend would like to know that in the event that his wife happens to be seated next to a window, and the window suddenly shattered, say from being accidentally struck by a sharp blow with a hard blunt object like a masonry hammer, would his wife be sucked out of the window and fall to her death?

My friend would also like to know if the person sitting next to his wife would be safe from also being sucked out along with his wife if he’d taken the precaution of fastening his seat belt first.

Thank you

Yours sincerely

T Ravenscroft (MR)

 

Travel Update – Numero Tres

Sunset Sailing, Green Flashbacks, and Bucket List or Fuck-It List?

One of my favourite tours to do here in Quepos/Manuel Antonio is to go sailing with Sunset Sails Tours.  It is a family owned business and they have 2 sailboats, one of them being a catamaran.  I always have the best time and meet such wonderful people that I go every time I come to Costa Rica.  The entire crew and family are so nice, but Minor, Fran and Lourdes are wonderful people and have become special friends.

I’ve been sailing 3 times now since I’ve been here this trip alone, thanks to the generosity of Lourdes and Minor.  The first time was when I got kidnapped by Minor and Fran, and the second time was with Dan, Scott, Peter and Doug on a gay cruise. John and Bryan were also on the boat so it was a pleasure to spend the afternoon with them as well.  I somehow gained the title “Princess Naomi” so they started calling me that.  Normally I hate that title, but only when straight guys say it – a gay guy can call me Princess or Queen all he wants and I love it.

I met some really lovely people sailing that day including a very nice man Tony who works for a company that does good work, so we shared various heartwarming stories about people with disabilities and illnesses.  I also met Orlando who had a warm smile (similar to Jose who sells empanadas) and he gave me travel tips for Colombia and spoke about his country, Ecuador, and where to go should I visit.  Jose was the gay tour organizer and he had me reconsider going river rafting and waterfall rappelling again. My favourite was meeting Patrick.  He had this amazing energy and adventurous spirit splashed with an adorable smile.  He told me about some of his “bucket list” items and just about all of them were things I wanted to do or had done.  However, he explained, some of them could potentially go on the “fuck-it list”, which I thought was hilarious.  I had already experienced a brief introduction to that list with backing up the Uhaul truck, but now I had a proper name for it, thanks to Patrick.

The day was wonderful as always and we saw melon-headed whales.  Later I heard some people saw false orca whales and one of them ate a dolphin.  I’m glad I didn’t see that.  I know it is Mother Nature and all, but when you feel adoration for an animal, the last thing you want to see is it getting eaten.

The most incredible part of that sailing cruise was that I actually saw the Green Flash for the first time.  Not knowing what to expect, I would imagine everything from a small, bright green flash to an atomic sized wayward aurora borealis extending over the horizon.  The sun slips into the ocean within seconds here once it is at the water’s edge, and when the last little bit or the intense orange fire ball is about to slip beneath the water, the tiniest sliver of it did indeed turn a light green and was infused with tinges of pale yellow.  It was an exciting moment for me and I yelled out, “I saw the green flash!”  I don’t think anyone else did so it must have been annoying, but I couldn’t contain my excitement.   Later I got a giggle when Craig called it a Green Flashback.

I also went sailing with Anita, and a bunch of people from here including Cate, David, Toni & Craig the other day.  It was a glorious time and so much fun relaxing and having conversations, especially with Cate and Toni.  One of the girls on the boat who is from Sweden is going to Argentina for 3 months in a few days so perhaps I will connect with her when I am there.  I know at one point I lamented over my meager (in comparison) 10 days in Argentina and justly received a “Don’t Cry For Me Argentina” response.

We got to see the dolphins on that sailing trip and I just love how they playfully swim next to the boat.  When we anchored for snorkeling, I dipped into the lovely water for a bit of a swim.  The green flash wasn’t seen that evening but we did get a lovely sunset while sipping capirinhia’s (I gotta keep up with my capirinhia training for Brasil).  It was a brilliant day filled with laughter, relaxation, and fun, including Toni and I lapsing into a fit of camera wars.

Afterwards I went out with Minor and Fran to Wacky Wanda’s for tequila shots and cerveza.  I just adore both of these guys and have so much fun being with them!  They had to work early the next day so it wasn’t too late when I came back and saw David and Cate on the porch.  We decided to go check out Liquid, which has new guys running it, and Giovanni showed us the transformations including the wonderful sitting area to the side.  When we came back, I offered to open the gate for Cate and David’s car and somehow managed to set off some alarm.  How in the world I did that I have no idea, but it pretty much destroyed all of our efforts at being sneaky and quiet in the middle of the night.  I’m always getting into trouble with those two! 

Babysitting in Costa Rica

Peter and Doug invited me to their condo for dinner one night and mentioned they would be watching a little neighbor boy while his parents went out for their anniversary.  I brought a second batch of salsa I made to share after asking Miguel to be my tester.  It was equally funny watching him hit spicy parts and make “this is hot” noises, but he had about 3 pieces of bread with salsa on it (I didn’t have any chips), so I took it as a sign that it was edible.  The taxi driver who picked me up to go to the condo was the same one who took me to the store an hour before to finish getting salsa ingredients, so I attempted to tell him in Spanish how I made the salsa.  Okay, it was more like Spanglish but at least I tried!

I arrived and got a tour of their place before we sat poolside with margaritas, chips and salsa, and hung out.  The little 5 year-old boy, Jaydon, is adorable, highly entertaining, and super animated doing things like saying, “No, no, no” while dramatically shaking his hand in the air close to his face.  

His mother, Juliana, is a sweetheart, and Glenn sat with us smoking his cigar before his anniversary with Juliana while she got ready, an infectious smile on his face.  At some point Juliana mentioned the death of someone and showed me a picture of him on her iphone.  My heart sank when I realized it was Didier who used to work at Villa Roca and would dance to Lady Gaga almost as good as the Lady herself.  He had a wonderful personality and I’m pretty sure he was there that memorable night I lost my panties at Villa Roca after Jason took me into the pool, gown and all, then we switched clothes in the water.  Well, I was able to put on his shirt with just panties on but the dress took some doing to get it on him while wet, resulting in Jason looking very much like a mermaid.  My mom photographed all of us misbehaving (some of those I believe need to be burned) but God that was a fun night!  Somehow I lost my panties in the process and it has been speculated that some Tico may be wearing them or perhaps a monkey, maybe even the one the other day who gave me a strange look before he displayed his sexual prowess.  Perhaps he thought, don’t I know you from somewhere?

It was truly sad to hear of Didier’s passing. He was only 28 or 29 so it just reaffirmed how life is short and if you don’t live it now, when will you?  Nobody knows what tomorrow will bring.

Jaydon’s parents finally departed on their date and within 10 minutes I think Doug and Peter could tell it was going to be a long night, even with being entertained by Jaydon and Peter and Doug cracking jokes constantly, many I wish I could remember. Peter snorts when he laughs, and all of us latent snorters have found it undeniably contagious.

Initially Jaydon played with his toy helicopter, which had a blade askew so it would maneuver uncertainly like a scary butterfly and have us shielding our margaritas, ducking, and dodging its flight path.  Later balloons were blown up and all sorts of things done with them from hitting them back and forth to drawing faces on them of each of us.  We also did “balloon bowling” with the bowling ball made of paper towels and wrapped with tape.  As a kid without fancy toys and growing up in a family of 4 without much money, we learned to be creative, and I remember making balls out of paper and tape and stretching panty hose over hangers to make rackets.  The evening began to be infused with this kind of approach and a little of the hilarious Amy Sedaris craft book that Peter and Doug showed me on the side.  There is only so much you can do with balloons though and I think maybe it was after that we had pizza, which Peter wisely planned to do with Jaydon to keep him busy.  I devoured mine and had a lovely bit of dessert not too long afterwards – and another margarita to aid me with babysitting.

We then started playing games and this is where things devolved a touch.  Our margaritas were refilled, Jaydon drank his water laced with pure 5-year old kid energy, and their neighbor John joined us with his beer.  Jaydon ruled the games mostly, including the one where each person got 2 dice and rolled them to see the numbers.  I suppose it was only a natural devolution for the loser to have to drink and before we knew it, we were all teaching Jaydon to say “Tome, Tome!” and “Drink! Drink!” while he pounded his little fist on the table and looked at me to drink.  He would drink too, but just water.  We couldn’t help but laugh because it was cute but we also knew we were being bad babysitters.  “I’m a bad babysitter, got my boyfriend in the shower..oooop!”  That’s a song for those of you who don’t know.

It all reminded me of the time when I was maybe 12 that my sister, Sarah and my brother, Joseph and I decided to play quarters one day (Sarah probably instigated that one) but the g-rated version with water.  We had salty peanuts to aid us in our drinking game.  Then Sarah went to go to the bathroom but when she came out she locked the door behind her so that Joe and I couldn’t get in, and you can imagine the strain on our bladders with drinking so much water.  Needless to say, the bathroom window ended up getting broken and I don’t recall playing quarters with water or with Sarah after that.

Among the other bad things taught, I mentioned yawn diving where when someone is yawning you stick your finger in their mouth right at that moment when they can’t control their wide open mouth then retract it before they can close down.  It is hilarious to do to someone although when it is done to you it feels oddly invasive and isn’t nearly as funny.  John got a kick out of that one and I wonder what the hell I’ve started with the sport of yawn diving and us all teaching a 5 year old to say, “Tome, Tome!”

I called it a night at about 10:30 and left Peter and Doug to wind Jaydon down with a movie.  They looked more tired than Jaydon and had already nixed their usual early morning walk to the beach.  I heard later Jaydon finally crashed sometime around midnight.  I figured we all had committed some babysitting sin that night that would banish us from the realm of children, but the parents actually invited the “famous babysitters” to a lobster dinner this Saturday.  Apparently, Jaydon likes me.  I just hope that during dinner he doesn’t start pounding his little fist on the table, look at me and say, “Tome! Tome!”

Playa Tortuga Survey and Tilapia

On Monday, a group of us went to Playa Tortuga with Anita.  Cate, David, Toni, and Craig came along as well as Elody and Giles – 3 nurses, a marine specialist, a photographer, and an engineer.  A 20 year-old guy, I believe named Ravi, died there recently while on a school trip, and Anita had been asked to survey the beach for rip tide dangers as she has experience with this.  The grieving American parents assumed it must be a very dangerous beach since Ravi could surf and swim, so we all headed out for a day trip to take a look. 

We drove out on the new road past El Rey, now clearly marked with a sign.  David, Cate and I had a fun adventura when I first met them years ago trying to find that beach and laughed and laughed when we finally found it and the “sign” for it consisted of an arrow painted on a pole before one of the many dirt roads that disappear into the palm forest.  We drove past Dominical and Uvita and stopped off at The Roadhouse in Ballena for directions, which were after the gas station take the road right before the bridge.  We see the gas station, find the bridge, and on approach and the angle of everything looks like an uneven slab of concrete that appears to lead down to a little foot path.  We were all saying, “Uh, I don’t think that’s a road!” but Anita thought it was and turned off.  Amazingly, it WAS a road.  You needed 4-wheel drive and better hope nobody is coming towards you but it was a road. 

The “road” dumped us out on an expansive beach, striking for its lack of trees and shade, save for a shade structure made out of wood and leaves.  We walked around and saw many snails that would appear after the waves washed out, a clam and other water insects.  The coolest thing I saw was a worm or mini sea snake thing that had almost an electric blue wiggle down the center bordered by clear sides.  I’ve never seen anything like it on the beach before and luckily, Toni saw it too and could vouch I wasn’t hallucinating before it was covered by a wave and disappeared.   

After surveying the beach, all of the experts concluded that there was a rip tide, but nothing different or more dangerous than any other beach in Costa Rica.  We drove along a sand path on the beach to a guy that lives there to get his opinion on the typical conditions and those of that fateful day the boy drowned.  His house looked hand-built and the view and serenity of the place amazing.  He had this cool bench that he had constructed out of purple heart wood that didn’t use any nails, only wooden pegs.  It was fantastic!

After the beach survey, we headed to the Tilapia restaurant, a little further south and about 4 km off the main road to the left.  While crossing a bridge on the drive up we could hear the deafening sound of cicadas, and paused to listen before continuing along and arriving at our destination.  You can catch tilapia there, but we were all hungry and thirsty so we sat down to eat rather than fish.  The menu was whole fish, fish fillet, or pollo.  I have never had a whole fish before and decided, porque no? 

I am not a very adventurous eater in that I don’t eat weird body parts or insects, etc.  I never ate anything with the head still on it so this was to be a new experience for me.  I found that when my food has a head and an eye looking at me, I have the urge to talk to it.  “Hello, fish.  How are you doing?  Dead, I suppose.  Thank you for that anyhow.”  I wonder if any food looking at me will inspire conversation or if that is exclusive to fish.  It was delicious and I would not hesitate to order it again.

After lunch we walked parade-like to the waterfall, which cascades down the middle of 2 large rocks with a smaller round rock at the top and caught in the middle of the other 2 rocks.  Spectacular!  I do not do cold water though, as many of you know, so I only stepped in briefly to feel the water on my feet and legs. 

Later I found out one of the guys at the waterfall who needed help from the other 3 in his group to move around and walk had Parkinson’s disease.  He had trouble talking but did not want to get out of the waterfall as he was enjoying it so much.  It breaks my heart when people have these diseases and are savoring the last bit of life they can, while they can, but it also fills me with a certain amount of joy to know they are delighting in life the way most people can’t fathom.  Life is short, no matter how long you live. 

Spanish Tests, Stall Exits, and Easy Pee-sy Cash

Nuria helped me one morning pronounce “papel higienico” (toilet paper) while asking me if I needed anything for the cottage.  A couple of days later I found myself at El Sol using “el bano” and was mildly exasperated when I realized there was no toilet paper.  I found myself yelling to the woman in the stall next to me, “Hola!  Necissito papel higienico!” and she handed some through a crack in the door.  You never know when you will be presented with a little Spanish Test and luckily I passed that one!

One minor bit of advice I have for travelers using bathrooms (aside from don’t flush the freakin’ toilet paper unless you know for sure the toilet can handle it!) is to always look for stall exits.  On a previous trip I went into a stall while travelling up to Guanacaste and found myself locked in at some roadside affair, unable to budge the door open or unlock it. There was no space to crawl under or over for that matter, and I had to yell out frantically to the person I was with to come and save me from a stall.  I was able to get out but as they say in airplanes, “Always know your exits!”

While I’m on the toilet topic, my sister Simona and I were exchanging emails the other day and she asked me to write something for her Elimination Communication blog, which is basically about potty training babies immediately to eliminate in a toilet so as to avoid using diapers.  She joked maybe I would think of something while sitting on the toilet.  I did have to pee as I read her email, and I laughed, envisioning the scenario.  Then I really did have to go so I set my computer aside.  I’m sitting there when I suddenly think, “Easy Pee-sy Baby Squeezy” and started laughing out loud. No, you don’t squeeze the baby but that is what popped in my head.  I decided to write the piece then and there (not in the bathroom but outside people!) and sent it to her explaining the unfolding of events of my “Easy Pee-sy” piece.  She laughed and said if she uses the Easy Pee-sy as a slogan, she would pay me, then I could say, “I earned my first cash while sitting on a toilet in Costa Rica.”  Ahhh!  Nothing like a grandiose start to another possible career!

xoxo,

~na

 

 

 

 

Travel Update Numero Dos

Part I – Adventura Con Fuego

I think it has been about a week since I last sent a mass email and while this won’t bring everything totally up-to-date, it will help. I realized I better keep up with my travel emails because it is amazing how much I can write about doing nothing. By “nothing” I mean I haven’t climbed a mountain or gone in midnight pursuit of a jaguarundi with an indigenous tribe eating only jungle creatures.  Heck, I haven’t even solidified bungee jumping plans, but I have found that my nothing days are filled with interesting and amusing things and this “adventura” may very well have more to do with people and sitting on the cottage porch than unexplored terrain and never-been-done-before adrenaline quests.

When I was 12, my awesome mama took me to Playa del Carmen in Mexico and she gave me a choice of staying in a 5-star hotel/resort or in a funky hotel where we could have “an Adventure”.  I chose the adventure. I think a little bit of the “adventura” spirit of that 12-year old girl has stayed with me.  Sometimes the urge to just get a little crazy happens, or a passion of some sort flares up deep in my soul and becomes unshakeable. However, passion and stupidity can be a dangerous concoction….and yes, I was stupid one night.

It started with one of my favourite kinds of days – a lazy morning then walk down to la playa where I spend about 2 hours rotisserating myself on a sarong skewer, sip a cerveza, maybe have one of Jose’s empanadas, and relish in the scents, sights, sounds and feelings of “my beach”. Then I walk the length of the beach to El Sol where Oscar and I kiss hello and I am warmly welcomed by Jonathan and Andres.  I usually get bruschetta and a mojito. 

One time I asked out of curiosity if it was happy hour and Jonathan said, “For you Naomi, it is happy hour.”  I started to object since I was just inquiring then said, “Okay. Pourque no?!” The mojitos made me sleepy and I crashed out early.  The cottage I stay at has no glass windows – just screens to keep out the bugs, monkeys, and people and recently added chicken wire for raccoons that were breaking in. The sounds of the jungle are always a breath away.  I awoke in the middle of the night after my mojito crash to the most unnerving smell….SKUNK.  I have seen one close to the porch before without such an intense smell so in my imagination he seemed a couple of feet away from my head. Usually I feel safe in bed, but with my head next to the open air window  I was now paralyzed and sniff, sniff, sniffing trying to figure out where the little bugger was not daring to move or pull back the curtains lest I be face to face with a startled skunk.  A few minutes later I heard a half exhale half snort of an animal that sounded right next to my ear and I shot out of bed and decided the living room was a fine place for me to be for a little midnight writing.

The next day at El Sol I told Jonathan and Andres and they laughed about my mojito skunk woes and I proclaimed, “So not as many mojitos for me!” Happy Hour got adjusted to “this mojito is made especial for you, Naomi”.  By “especial” they mean “this may make you a little blurry or it could obliterate you”.  

So this particular night, I sat there longer than usual sipping mojitos and saw people on the beach playing with sparklers, which started the first tingles of excitement.  Later down at the beach, I met one of the regulars and his friends and the idea of a bonfire came up, which generated fireworks in my soul.  I was all for it and watched them gather wood for a beach fire.  One guy started pouring fuel from a can into the fire, but before he could empty it I yelled, “Wait!  Don’t use it all!  Que es?”, while pointing at the mystery fuel.

It turned out to be palm oil, and in my fit of passion decided I wanted nothing else but to spin poi right then and there and opted out of more than one fire safety rule.  I did at least run to the sea and dip a hand towel into the water…. because everyone knows that salty and sandy water is great for poi and a nice balm for burns! Palm oil is the worst fuel I have worked with and I don’t recommend it, plus it happens to attract ants.  It had more difficulty lighting than kerosene and wouldn’t stay lit well.  Despite this, I managed to get a little spinning in and the guys whooped and hollered with drunken delight and wanted me to spin fire around them, so I obliged with the weak flame until I finally gave up saying, “No, no this is no bueno, I need different fuel”. 

Yeah, I know….I was *stupid* and I already beat myself up over it so please refrain from further castigation. I especially beat myself up in the morning when I woke up and found a burn hole in one of my shirts, my skirt smeared with palm oil burns, and burns on my stomach that almost looked like animal bite marks from when I did a body wrap out of habit with scorching hot metal.  I looked at it all as a little reminder of my stupidity. It also made me realize how much I longed to fire dance – so much that I would overrule my own safety guidelines.  At the end of the day a mistake can be very revealing and act as a compass for your heart and passion, so no, I don’t regret it one bit – but will certainly not be doing it again under the same circumstances.

Part II –Dirty Bananas, Penis Coladas and Latin Lovers

My friends Dan & Scott have arrived and surprised me one morning showing up at the cottage while I was doing a slow dance with my café con leche and wearing leopard slippers.  After a few minutes of getting presentable, I gave them a tour of the cottage including pointing out my sandy, palm oil soaked and ant infested poi and explained I hadn’t written about that little story yet.  Scott said, “those balls?” and Dan exclaimed, “Naomi! Whose balls did you take?”  Ha, love these guys!  I showed them the rest of the property and rooms and we discussed animals we had seen.  Dan began describing an animal he saw with a long tail. Scott interjected with jungle expertise, “That wasn’t a tail.”

We met up later for cocktails at Mozambique, a gay bar with a name I can never remember so I call it Mozambique.  We enjoyed cocktails and appetizers with Peter and Doug and I met Jeffrey and Carlos, who later amused me with one of those “TMI I’ll never see you again fellow traveler truth stories”.  We had dinner at Rafaels down below and I ordered a dirty banana cocktail, which provoked all kinds of amusing jokes for days on end.  Days later, I brought Dan and Scott the final two Christmas gifts, one for Dan, Scott and their 6 boys.  As Scott was opening it he saw only a curved yellow tip and turned to me and said with an amused smirk in his voice, “Is this a dirty banana?!” I had forgotten momentarily that the gift was a fun game called Bananagrams, innocently purchased back in December as a family gift that suddenly didn’t seem quite so kid appropriate.

Peter, Doug, Dan, Scott and I amused ourselves at Rafael’s by designating Dan as having a “birthday” and sang happy birthday while he received a piece of cake, then decided it would be fun if we each had a birthday on a different night.  

Scott’s was by far the best when we met up at La Mariposa for a mid-day cocktail in their infinity pool and swim-up bar which ended up being an amazing all-day affair full of laughter (some with snorting) and continual cocktails topped with a sobering bill.  When I arrived I was greeted by 4 smiling boys with a, “Would you like a penis colada?”  I opted for what most of them were drinking, which were strawberry margaritas.  Later, the cute bartender with the nice smile asked me if I would like a “Latin Lover”.  I hesitated wondering what a “Si” would get me.  I ended up getting hooked on the delicious drinks with questionable amounts of alcohol in them. 

It’s amazing how much time you can spend in an infinity pool with an incredible view, fun friends, fancy drinks, and a cute bartender.  We had it mostly to ourselves although there was a group that showed up briefly and when Dan took a picture of them all sitting at a table with their backs to the infinity pool, I photo-bombed the group shot in a fit of juvenile inspiration. We did get out of the infinity pool to eat a nice lunch and celebrate Scott’s “birthday”.  He got a fancy cake with “Feliz dia Scott” written in caramel and the staff came out and sang to him.  Then it was back to the infinity pool and Scott drank a scary birthday cocktail en fuego. The bartender said something about wanting to burn me in Spanish (how I wish I understood Spanish at times!). I ended up tasting it also but chickened out on the final flaming sip. I thought it might be bad form to burn not only my stomach but my throat as well and would certainly interfere with more cocktails.   The guys took it upon themselves to flirt on my behalf with the cute bartender, even inviting him to Brasil with me. I won’t lie, there is something sexy about a cute bartender with a great smile who seemed genuinely nice look me up and down, pause at my ass and say, “Que Rico!” with a sensual Latino flair as inherent as salsa dancing.  Um…yeah, I’ll have another one of those Latin Lovers please! 

My “birthday” was at Villa Roca where we met for cocktails.  It’s always fun going in there as a straight female with naked men in the pool (it is a gay hotel) and there is a bit of sizing me up before I generally meet some really wonderful people there. One nice guy bought me a beer after hearing it was my “birthday”.   Dan, Scott and I had a lovely dinner that night and returned to Villa Roca to all kinds of interesting late night pool happenings (think 5 dirty bananas but luckily under water and not visible).  I guess my presence as a straight female lost any deterring power.  Skinny dipping suggestions were stripped of their previous appeal for the straight and gay alike in our group and eventually everyone called it a night. I amused Dan later the next day when I commented on the allowed use of the pool even all night and he laughed that I chose to mention the hours of the pool when *everything* was lax there.  Gay hotels are a whole different world.

We have yet to celebrate Peter and Doug’s “birthdays” but there is still time left.  Also, while I mentioned quite a few of the more memorable cocktails recently had, I would be remiss not to mention the Tsunami cocktail I had at the new Thai restaurant with Anita.  I loved the décor, the food was tasty, and the food presentations wonderful, but the Tsunami cocktail was a delightful surprise with the mamon chino(also rambutan or lychee) bomb at the bottom.  Que Rico!

The food I’ve eaten here has all been good but I haven’t experienced a new dish to add to the favourites list yet.  The closest I’ve come to that was perhaps the mahi mahi burger I had or during the tasting I went to with Anita at Jarek and Sally’s new fish and chips restaurant.  Everything there was good but the fish balls (something I may not have ordered otherwise) were savory deliciousness and the onion rings were sweet and lovely.

Part III – La Feria, Mangostrations, and Salsa

Every Saturday there is a market in Quepos – La Feria.  It is a great place to get inexpensive and fresh fruits and vegetables. I sipped una pipa (coconut with a straw in it) while loading up on ingredients for salsa, salads, and selected a couple of fruits.  One of the vendors let me try an interesting fruit called “Caymito”, which later makes your lips sticky in a funny way, and another one I can’t remember the name of that was super sweet and like nothing I’ve ever tasted before.

Using my la feria purchases, I made the first batch of salsa while more howlers than I’ve ever heard before were sounding out their territory in the nearby trees, a light rain was falling, and two agoutis taunted me with their slow meandering up the path in front of the kitchen window of the cottage.  I longed for a picture of the elusive agouti, but knew if I moved they would scamper off.  Something about it all – the howler symphony, the agoutis in the rain, making salsa and cooking pasta while looking out the kitchen window – it was all so glorious and I felt happy in the most perfect, peaceful way as though THIS was exactly the intended atmosphere for Naomi Fino to cook in.

The salsa turned out pretty good and I asked Nuria who works here to try it to give me her opinion on taste and spiciness.  It was funny to watch her enjoy it, give me feedback that it isn’t too spicy then hit a chili seed and to hear her a few minutes later suck in a sharp “my mouth is on fire” breath.  I laughed at the universal sound which made her laugh too.  I shared almost the rest of it one evening on the communal porch with Ben, here with his friend Mike, and John and Susan had a taste of it as well.

Somehow mangos got brought up (maybe Ben was craving dessert and I offered him a mango) and I ended up giving the group a “Mangostration” on how to cut mangos so it looks like a turtle’s back and is easier to eat.  They were excited as apparently they were previously mango “gnawers”. 

Part IV –Monkey Lover

I see and hear monkeys every day here and am a total monkey lover.  It is common for them to sleep in the nearby trees and swing through the jungle in the mornings or afternoons.  In fact, I see some now as I type this and the elusive agouti also passed by a moment ago. Its movements were step step halt.  Step step halt.  It’s a similar jungle dance I watched a lizard do today with their run run stop, run run stop. It reminded me of cartoon character bank robbers silhouetted with skinny legs and geometric torsos doing the same little run run freeze motion.  It made me laugh and say, “I seeeeee yoooouuu!” to the lizard.  I suppose the jungle dance is only amusing if you aren’t being hunted though.

I see many things from this porch – especially when I am sitting still reading or writing. I try to remember to move around a bit so things don’t crawl on me, but sitting still has its advantages as creatures are more likely to approach me, which can either be really cool or totally unwanted.  The other morning while writing on the porch a white-faced capuchin monkey (they can be quite nasty if they want to) sauntered down the tree that fell during a storm while I was here previously (nothing like the sound of crack crack CRASH on a stormy night to give you a good fright!) then jumped onto the tree about 3 feet from the end porch column and just stood there giving me this strange look I’ve never seen before on a monkey.  I stared back, hands paused above the keyboard wondering, what next little monkey? He ambled up the tree and flew to the next one that is even closer to me, about 6 feet away.  I glanced around nervously to make sure I didn’t have any food out since he seemed intent on coming closer to me.  He then jumped up on the roof and I could see little hands and feet on the edge of the porch roof overhead and directly in front of me.  I was just waiting for him to lean over the edge with his head popping out to give me a direct monkey stare-down.  I suddenly felt very vulnerable sitting with my computer on my lap and ran inside to set it down.  When I came back out I noticed another monkey on the fallen tree.  Suddenly, the rooftop monkey turned and ran, jumped, climbed, and leapt along his path in reverse to the fallen tree and mounted the other monkey and began mating.  I watched oddly fascinated, albeit increasingly disturbed wondering if that strange look he gave me followed by his aggressive monkey sex business was the reason I felt so vulnerable.   I told everyone about it at breakfast and Cate said, “Maybe he looked at you and thought, naaaaawww….she’s too big.”  I still love monkeys, but think I’ll stop using the term “monkey lover” since if I ever get a look like that again from a monkey, I’m running like hell.

 xoxo,

~na

Travel Update Numero Uno

Hola and Mass Travel Email Greetings to you All! 

Apologies to those who spit out their green tea or almost peed a little with my resuscitation story in my last email, although I’d do it all over again because really those are fine reactions! 

To those of you in CR already or coming soon, my CR cell # is 5712190 – or it might be 57121901. I’m off to a good start, eh? I’m not really good at it yet so forgive me if I suck with calls/messages but hope to figure it out better soon. Thank you to Jean Paul for giving me his extra Sim card! 

Jean Paul and I had a nice sunset cocktail the other day at Bahia Azul which we missed because we were talking too much – whoops! The sun goes down fast here. He then took me to his house so he could have a shower. He had told me on Facebook he got a new doggy that “keep his house” named Saturnin. I congratulated him on his new doggy and couldn’t wait to meet him. Then it comes out that his “doggy” is a crocodile – or more accurately a cayman. So he pulls up, it’s dark, and he points to a dark jungly area a few feet in front of his car and says, “Saturnin is over there.” I whimpered that I did not want to get out of the car but he laughed at me and reassured me, “No, no, Na, it is okay!” After some coaxing, I get out and run like hell to the house, then he tells me, “That is not my house!” Fine, where do I run now? So we quickly go over a tiny bridge and along a path to his place, in the dark and where every step my heart is beating fast because I don’t want to be dinner for anyone so early in my travels. 

I never got to meet Saturnin (which was okay for my first visit) but I did see his eyes in the water reflecting back from the flashlight about 20 feet away. I sat out on the top of the porch steps nervously having a cocktail while Jean Paul showered (“leave the door open so you can hear me if I scream at least!”) keeping an eye out for Saturnin or any strange movement and always planning my escape between sips. Jean Paul feeds him in the morning, calls him by name, and says he comes to the bottom of the few steps I was sitting on – he even showed me video of it! Apparently, Saturnin is quite shy around strangers but indeed has become his “doggy”….of sorts. While Saturnin was shy, the fireflies were not and I got to see a couple of those magical creatures blinking their way across the grass. 

Getting back on track for a moment, to those of you not in CR, if you would like a postcard, send me your address if you have not already (many of you I already have on my list). 

I’ve been here for a few days now and the first couple of days were doing nada and just trying to relax my sore muscles from moving. Anita invited me to dinner the first night with her and her friend Molly to Emilio’s where we had a wonderful tuna dish. The next night we were going to go to Salsipuedes but Anita had to unfortunately wait for guests, which was a bummer. Molly and I went and I had my favourite tipico food – arroz con pollo – and met their very nice friends and listened to live music. Despite my limited outings the first coupe of days, I have managed to already see many animals just from the porch here. I have seen all 3 types of monkeys (mono titis, white-faced monkeys, and howlers) and some more than once. The howlers woke me up a couple of times, as well as the neighbor tourists who were none to happy about it. It was annoying and amusing to hear a girl shouting, “Shut up baboon!” Here is one of the videos I took but not sure the sound came out good of her – only me trying to explain to these ridiculous tourists that no, they aren’t in Kansas anymore. 

Here is the link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T0o2Nbqnkn0

I have also seen the elusive agouti (similar to rabbits but with no tail) and a coati (similar to a racoon but tail straight up and a little like a R.O.U.S.) as well as many many lizards, birds, butterflies, and other insects/critters. This is one of the many reasons why I adore this place!!

I did make it to the beach the other day where I got to see a couple locals I have come to know a bit and like. I tried to be a good girl and use sunscreen before I left. I thought I was schhooo schmart to put it on at the cottage where I could wash my hands with fresh water. I lathered it on around my tank top and skirt then headed down the sometimes steep and slippery dirt road that leads to the beach after 15 or 20 minutes. I had hoped my new hair colours would confuse a guy that likes to hit on me every time I pass by on that road but I am not as incognito as I thought and he managed to give me his number and show me his new goats before I could make my escape. I find it disconcerting to have a man that only sees me walk by to yell after me, “I love you!”, which he did one time on a previous trip. WTF?

The ocean was gorgeous as always and the sun intense. I congratulated myself on the sunscreen use and made feeble attempts to smear leftovers on the other areas covered by my tanktop. I didn’t really care though, being a novice at sunscreen, and focused my attention on getting a water and cerveza (priorities, right?!) before getting cozy on my sarong.

Back in High School I used to be on the swim team. When I first joined, I did not know how to swim and didn’t even want to put my face in the water, but they taught me, and I became decent at it and did it for a couple of years. Needless to say, at the end of each season I won the award for the “Most Improved” and the award for “The Best Tan Lines” – every swimmer’s award dreams come true! 

I remembered this esteemed award after I got a good look at myself in the mirror and the contrast between those untouched by the sun and the parts that were sorta burned and those that were definitely red. It’s always a good start to tropical travelling to not only get burned, but to do so in a lovely “my clothes are now painted on me in reverse” pattern. 

I decided I would give the sun a break the next day and go to Quepos, which Anita graciously gave me a ride to. However I was kidnapped by Minor almost immediately upon my arrival, first to Dos Locos for a beverage, then to his brother’s car for a ride that took so long at a pit stop that we ditched and walked to another meeting point…where he saw his sister who picked us up and took us to the marina, where he kidnapped me to the sailboat he was working on. Then I got kidnapped again by Fran to the catamaran. Luckily it was the kind of kidnapping where the hostage was served beer and got to see turtles mating in the water and dolphins that jumped high out of the water and made everyone ooh and ahh. It was wonderful! I also met some super nice people on the boat which always enhances an already wonderful sailing tour.

Being unprepared, I did get more sun and added to the strange network of “what I was wearing before” pattern on my body. Luckily, today is cool and cloudy and perfect to go into Quepos to attempt to finish whatever it was I was doing there prior to my delightful kidnapping. And now that I have been easily spotted by both the guy that always stops me on my way to the beach and Minor, I have no more false hopes about being a Chica Mala without being noticed.

The power was supposed to be off most of today but I guess it has been changed to tomorrow. So email me your address if you want a postcard and feel free to give me a call – but if I don’t answer back right away it is because I still haven’t learned all the Spanish commands. Tomorrow I’ll be internet-less while the power is out, which is a good excuse to work on my body art project of burns of various degrees. Wish me luck!

xoxo,

~na

 

Update From Naomi

As many of you already know, I have left the country to travel for approx. 3 months to go to Costa Rica, Brasil, Argentina, Colombia, and hopefully Panama somewhere inbetween the CR and Brasil portion. I have arrived safely in Costa Rica just yesterday and am sipping an Imperial enjoying the perfect temperatures of Manuel Antonio/Quepos wondering if I’ll be treated to a lovely lightning storm this evening because I love those!

It has been a lot of work and organization to arrange 3 months of travel plans and plan to move at the same time….especially after wrapping xmas gifts Na style. Again as many of you know, I am no longer working. Well, it has been work…but work for me instead of someone else (minus xmas). So no, I am not bored in the least! I’m calling this my mini mid-life retirement because I think the notion that you should retire when you are too old and possibly dead to enjoy it was made up by some masochist or super annoying positive person that wasn’t good at applying trajectory logic to human aging. I say live life now, break out the good champagne glasses, and don’t wait for a special occasion or a day that may never come!

However, being somewhat of a realist and not independently wealthy or a lottery winner (yet anyway), I will have to get back to what some refer to as “reality” at some point. As they say, all good things must come to an end – and fortunately so do the bad ones (thank god for that coin’s flipside!)

In the meantime, I intend on doing things that I have dreamt of doing – like taking tango lessons in Argentina, relaxing on my favourite beach in Costa Rica, dipping into the volcano fed hot springs amid lush jungle while sipping some luxurious cocktail and looking out for fireflies, and visiting a place that the U.S. warns not to go because I like living a little on the edge where everything turns out just fine but you have a great story to tell. I will begin this adventura with wild orchid coloured streaks in my hair because that is something I have also always wanted to do (courtesy of Miss Claire). I also get to see some amazing people along the way, some of whom are on this list.

Of course I am also doing things I fear a little or greatly – like leaving a place I love with an *amazing* closet, poi spinning area, and creative space, setting off on travels without any stability into the *unknown*, and will somehow need to fit my Maltese booty into a Brazilian bikini which I have, courtesy of my sister Sarah for the latter, and which is probably the most terrifying piece of public fashion I now own – perhaps because I know (also courtesy of Sarah) that *bunda* watching is like a public sport in Brazil. Nothing a little exercise or a capirhinia or two or three can’t fix! I already got over my fear of driving a uhaul truck although my confidence levels of backing it up and turning it around in tight spaces still needs some work (or a screw it not doing it), so I’ve already begun considering adding more to the “get over that stupid fear list”.

Speaking of uhauls and moving, it went *ok* as far as moving goes. Okay, it SUCKED. Thank god for my mom’s help at some key critical moments and making sure I ate during a midnight to midnight stretch that was brutal and ended with me in Safeway buying kitty litter with my knuckles bleeding and me looking like I lost a fight. I have never had so many cuts on my hands before and plenty of mystery bruises. Thank god for the 2 strong men that helped me get things down from a 3rd floor apartment – they rocked it hard and saved me! There were moments while travellng where I actually relied on other travelers who looked at me with obvious pity to help me with my obscene luggage (for all you laughing at me, look at the picture of my closet again!) because I had these moments where I felt I couldn’t lift another thing, especially with my hands all cut up and hurting every time I closed them or brushed against anything. Thank god for nice people along the way!

If I have one piece of advice for everyone, NEVER plan to move out the day before you leave for 3 months of travels! I did it but there were some seriously unpleasant aspects. And if anyone has the desire to go to any of the countries I listed as a tourist, I know the ropes, plus being a damn Virgo I wrote it all down in a condensed format (werk…). Brazil is the most pain in the ass country (Brazil’s reciprocity fee can kiss my bunda.)

So I will do my best to keep you updated, hopefully with interesting travel tidbits but quite possibly with ramblings Na style or even days or weeks of silence because I am too lazy to write after a long day of soaking up the sun, drinking cerveza, and eating Jose’s empenada’s on the beach. I know…..pooooor meeeee. 😉

Lastly, I am going to MISS many of you a great deal!!! I am lucky enough to get to see some of you while on my travels so to those I say, I can’t wait to see you and give you a big hug and perhaps get into a little “chica mala” or “chambassador” trouble – Na style. And for those I’ve been out of communication with, I apologize but hope this brings you all a little more updated.

Okay, one final story from my travels….there were a group of guys on the plane, two who helped me get my luggage into the overhead compartment which I acquiesced to out of sheer exhaustion (yes, I was that annoying person who took more on than they were supposed to but I hoped the airlines and fellow travellers would forgive me since one was full of fragile xmas gifts). They were a part of some loosely formed group and dinking and talking loudly. At one point one guy was reminiscing about some kind of accident that happened where he had to rescucitate another guy who had an out of body experience. No, I wasn’t eavesdropping they were talking loudly across aisles so it was fair game. Anyhow, the one that did the rescucitation said to the rescucitated, “Can I tell you something now that enough time has passed? That wasn’t you floating naked above you – that was me.”

Glad I wasn’t taking a sip of my cocktail because I would have spit it out I laughed so hard. Ahhhh, I love travelling!!!!

Peace out.

xoxo,

~na