Bienvenidos a Costa Rica

I would like to issue a warning at the beginning of this blog: If you thought I took excessive amounts of pictures before, prepare to have your mind blown. You have no idea what I'm capable of.

By the time the wheels hit the San Jose runway, I was no longer nervous or scared, just tired and hungry and really ready for a bed. The plane food was surprisingly good (it included black beans so I was satisfied) but they are a little stingy on the portions and I was about 3 hours past that meal. I followed the line of people gushing from our plane down the carpeted corridor of San Jose's airport. I spotted the silhouette of a proper lady in a dress and ducked into the bathroom. For the first time in a really long time, I had to flush a public toilet myself. Is that sad or what? I am so accustomed to those little sensor flusher things that when I stood up, I was very confused as to why the toilet did not start flushing. Same with washing my hands ... I physically had to touch something to get soap, water and paper towels. And I'm not saying that's a bad thing ... just a thing that says a lot about our American lives.

To make a long night into a short story, I made it easily through immigration, baggage claim, money changing and customs, hopped an orange airport taxi and landed at Adventure Inn 200 meters east of the main gates of Los Arcos (that's how addresses and directions go here).

I'm currently sitting on one of the double beds in my room, happy as a pig in mud.

My beds in Adventure Inn.

My hotel dresser/TV , which I did not take advantage of.

The rest of the room, complete with a coffee maker, which I also did not take advantage of.

This morning I rolled over at 6:15 am wide awake. Blast that time difference.

Proof of my early rise.

So I took a shower in my very lovely tile shower, which I am pleased to say has functioning hot water. Not warm water, but real hot water. I learned in Chile that my definition of warm and hot are not the same as some south-of-the-border definitions. But, alas, Adventure Inn and I use the same dictionary. I have so kindly documented all of this, especially the (pardon my French) bode. Those hold great fascination for me, although I rarely try them out. I can wash my own poto in the shower.

The toilet and butt washer

The shower ... aaahhh hot water on tile!

The receptionist who refused to speak Spanish to me, even if I did to her, had given me a breakfast ticket so about 7:30 I walked to the MoonGlow Café and Bar to have my first meal. The menu boasted a choice of pancakes, omelets, eggs over potatoes with fresh fruit, toast and a choice of rice and beans (gallo pinto it’s called here) and something else that was not worth remembering after I saw rice and beans. I elected to have the veggie omelet with gallo pinto and fruta. I snagged a glass and poured some pink juice, which looked much prettier then the foggy yellow juice. Sitting alone with my Pat Conroy book while I waited for my food, I decided the pink juice was not the best choice, and since I don’t really drink all that much juice at home, I opted for a glass of water with no ice in true latin style. I heard the tapwater was safe to drink and I was thirsty enough to take my chances.

Breakfast arrived fast and hot, the gallo pinto looking like something out of a food dream of mine. The omelet was packed with broccoli, cauliflower, onions, and mushrooms. And the fruit – I didn’t know what half of it was. Some pineapple and orange, a slice of starfruit, a fleshy pink fruit which tasted suspiciously like my juice and a little slice of something that I have yet to discover the name of, but that has to be somehow related to a lime.

I wasn’t expected at my host home until around 12 or 1, so I decided to take a walk to find an ATM so I could pay my cab fare. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was in a section of San Jose called Heredia and the houses on my walk were gorgeous and huge.

I loved this house ... the picture doesn´t do it justice but it is the perfect way to mix the big white columns and the spanish style home. (Thomas this is the one I was telling you about) and if you can see there´s this great outside porch where the columns are.

Another beautiful house on the walk with gorgeous plants sprouting everywhere.

Only having to stop for directions one time after getting them from the desk guy at the Adventure Inn, I arrived at the AM/PM supermercado complete with an ATM willing to give me dollars or colones. Let me pause a second to explain about directions here. As far as I can tell there are really no “addresses” really, more landmarks. For example, my hotel is 200 meters to the east of the main gates of Los Arcos. Ok who seriously knows how long a meter is? And where east is? My directions to the supermercado sounded something like this:

Desk guy: “Ok do you know where Country Inn is?”
Me: “No”
Desk guy: “Well you go out here to the right and you’ll see a little lake and a bridge and you’ll go toward the right and then you’ll see the bridge and the highway and you’ll go left for about 100 meters and there will be this little road on the left. The Country Inn is there and you’ll see the AM/PM.”
Me to myself: I will never remember all that. To him: “Thank you.”

Ducks by the lake

Thank goodness Thomas gave me a compass before I left … now if only I had a ruler… Needless to say, I have been and will continue to be getting lost a lot. And it was smoking hot already at 9:30. I had to break down and use the air conditioner in the room ... but only for a few minutes. Gotta live like a Tica.

The AC under the window.

See it was off most of the time ... but when it was on it really worked well.