Some Kind of Summer

It’s supposed to be summer down here in Costa Rica, but someone forgot to tell the weather that and it’s been raining pretty much nonstop since we arrived three days ago.  Not a little shower here and there but a deluge.  Buckets.  Torrents.  Noah’s Ark-like floods.  So much water that it’s making our TWB mission a challenge, for kids don’t hang out playing soccer when they could damn near drown on the field.

Before our nephew, Starr, arrived yesterday afternoon William and I spent the morning traipsing around Alajuela’s central market.  We bought some of the ubiquitous semi-soft white cheese and quince paste for a picnic lunch back at our hostel and then negotiated for five soccer balls with a lovely merchant named Ana who gave us a discount when we explained what they were for.

Starr arrived and we celebrated at a restaurant known for local specialties.  We shared a delicious grilled fish, chicken cordon bleu and shrimp in garlic sauce.  YUM!  We were still flying high when we got back to our room at the hostel.  Starr and William were so giddy with excitement and laughing so hard and so loud that there was a knock on the door and a little old French woman begged me to ask them to keep it down.   Which was a little ridiculous since it wasn’t even 8:30 yet!

This morning we bid goodbye to Don Jose and his wonderful staff and hit the road early in our Hyundai Bego 4-wheel drive mini-SUV.  A 3 ½ hour drive through gorgeous terrain — wide vistas of green mountains with ghostly white clouds hanging below the peaks, gargantuan trees, palm oil plantations, shimmering coastline.  The travel gods smiled upon us and the skies didn’t let loose until we had safely arrived to a funky little jungle motel just outside of Manuel Antonio.  We had to drive a few kilometers back to Quepos for lunch and a couple of errands.  In less than five minutes of walking around, we were all drenched and our shoes were like aquariums.  I made the mistake of letting William and Starr run the bakery errand while I stayed in the car and they ransacked the joint.  I don’t think there were any pastries left after the two of them were finished…Never again!

Peace & Blessings,

Jan