Fun-filled indeed! At least as soon as we finally managed to get out of Atlanta.
We arrived at the airport at 4:35 a.m. only to find that our flight to Atlanta was delayed." Why was it delayed," you ask. "Weather?" No. We were delayed at 6 a.m. because of crew rest. Yes, crew rest. You might think that Delta could have a crew ready to go so early in the morning, but no.
We stood in line for over an hour only to find out that we couldn't get on another flight and would have to wait until 8:30 a.m. We were all but assured to miss our 10 a.m. connection and would have to wait in Atlanta for the next flight to San Jose, which was a 6:45 p.m. Yes, p.m.
So we did.
We made it to San Jose somewhere around midnight only a few short hours from a full 24 hour traveling period. Turner was, thankfully, at the airport dutifully waiting. We made it to a hotel, crashed and started the full vacation the next day.
After breakfast and a bit of catching up, we headed to the bus station for the ride to Manuel Antonio. Once we figured out where to purchase bus tickets, we learned that the next bus was the "collectivo," which basically means the bus that drops people off and picks people up in each town. Happy to see a bit of "real Costa Rica" we boarded the bus and departed.
The bus was a little crowded to say the least. Two rows of people standing in the aisles and windows that woudn't open. A young boy standing behind our seats finally figured out how to get the window cracked, and I was thrilled with life. I was catching up with Turner, whom I hadn't seen for six months, I was in Costa Rica, and life was all around grand.
As we're driving down a curvy and crazy highway I suddenly heard a whooshing sound from the window and chalked it up to the tall grass on the side of the road. Well, right up until the bus stopped.
That whooshing sound was really passenger bags flying out of the opened cargo compartment under the bus. Passengers exited the bus and walked a solid half mile down the highway to retrieve their luggage.
Real Costa Rica indeed.
We made it to Manuel Antonio, checked into our bungalow, which we all noticed had a very distinct smell and left for drinks and dinner at the nearest restaurant. The next day we hit the beach, relaxed and all around enjoyed ourselves.
Upon returning to said bungalow, we noticed the smell was much more pronounced and was clearly coming from the plumbing. Dave took it upon himself to locate a plunger and went to town.
The next thing I know the smell of raw sewage on the bungalow porch was prominent and water was running down the moutain. Dave had certainly fixed the plumbing problem!
He turned on the faucets to fully run through the system, and we were pleased with our Take Control of the Situation Solution. After a good night's sleep we were ready to clean up and move forward on our trip. Little did we know that our Take Control of the Situation Solution had completely run the place out of water.
Real Costa Rica indeed.
We took this opportunity to exit the premises as quickly as possible and head the the next destination--Dominical.
Dominical is a lovely little surfing village with a few bars, a couple of hotels, and Tropical Pancakes. Yes, these are pancakes with bananas cooked inside. My mouth is watering just thinking about them. Dominical is also a two hour bus ride from Manuel Antonio on a gravel road. Yes, I said gravel.
We found a lovely little hotel with air conditioning and good plumbing and settled into some serious beach time.
We hit the beach, had some beers and all around enjoyed our first evening. The next day we did pretty much the same thing, finding ourselves completely relaxed (I found myself somewhat intoxicated) in a little bar and decided that a full ping pong tournament was the necessary next step for the evening. I went to locate another round and Dave and Turner started what was sure to be an epic tournament. The next thing I know Turner can't stand up, can't sit down, can't walk. Yep, so relaxed her back went out.
Playing. Ping. Pong.
We got back to the hotel, and I had high hopes that four Aleve and a good rest would knock out the pain, and we'd be in decent shape to head to San Isidro the next day. Not so much.
At 5:30 a.m. I awoke to a knock on the door and Turner telling us she needed to get to a doctor. And fast.
Well, there's no such thing as getting to a doctor fast in Dominical. The maintenince person at the hotel told us there was no doctor and worse, no pharmacy, in town.
Real Costa Rica indeed.
With few options we decided to have breakfast and work out a strategy. This is when the heavens opened.
From the next table we hear in a very American accent, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but are you looking for a doctor?"
Our heads turned quickly to say in unison, "yes!"
Brandon, our table neighbor, was from San Fransisco and just luckily his wife was a doctor who was currently visiting with the local doctor. What? There's a local doctor?
Brandon brought back said wife who advised to dull the pain with Advil and informed us that the town doctor did exist and spoke English.
Dave hightailed it (as we say in South AR) and set an appointment with the doctor for 3o minutes later. In the meantime we ran into Swiss Family Robinson who gave us their last Olfen Patch, which appeared to be some type of an Icy Hot patch and wished us luck.
Dr. Gonzales was an extremely nice man who fixed Turner right on up and called us a cab for the 2o mile ride to the neighborhing town to visit the pharmacy.
We got back to town, Turner turned to the bed for rest and what I assumed were powerful pain killers, and Dave and I hit the beach.
We returned to find Turner right as rain and Swiss Family Robinson as our new neighbors (we had to switch hotel rooms when we realized we'd need to stay another night).
We had a few beers, a hilarious dinner since everyone in the hotel knew of our unfortunate back injury, and a lovely time.
The next morning as we packed Dave realized we couldn't take our recently purchased bug spray back home since we were carrying on all our luggage and it was larger than the requisite 3 oz. allowed liquid container.
Dave turned to Swiss Family Robinson to give them the bug spray when father (later referred to as Don Olfen Patch) said, "You can't take this back to the US?" "No," I replied. "It's too big to carry on the plane."
"What?" Don Olfen Patch said. "Will they think you're insect terrorists?"
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What a great trip. Really. It's the most eventful vacation I've ever had. I hate that Turner was hurt, and I've never seen someone in such pain, but, man, will I be telling these stories for years to come.
L.
See those clothes hanging on the line behind me? Yep, those are ours. We located someone to do a load of laundry for us (we were traveling extremely lightly). Dave and I were walking down the street that afternoon and saw our clothes on the line. Of course, there's never a better time for a photo!
Real Costa Rica indeed.
2 comments:
I love it. I'm glad you got to see our girl! Why didn't you bring her back with you?
I know, right?!
She looks great. I mean aside from the bad back!
L.
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