And we're back...

Tuesday was an easy day, and our return went as well as could be expected. We had a few errands to do in the morning, and we stopped by to see Michel and Ricardo on the way to the airport, took the little Yaris back, and got to the airport about an hour earlier than we actually needed to just in case we had trouble with Mum's emergency passport.

The Costa Rican exit guards found it acceptable, and indeed they probably see many of them.
Charlotte Airport was not quite as easy. Rob had the very back seat on the plane, and was therefore the last off, and we were in the visitors line at US Customs, which takes the longest, and we were the last through. Then Homeland Security needed to verify Mum's documents, and by the time we did the route march to our check point, it was closed, and we had to dash back to a different check point, then back the other way to our gate, and by the time we got there they were already boarding. But we made it.

The in flight bits of the trip were uneventful - as air flight should be - although due to the storm systems in the US we were in moderate turbulance for all of the 6 hours of flying time, so were unable to get up and move around. Mum and I have a system now. If the flight gets too boring, we order hot tea. This is sure to cause an impromptu weather mass to attack the plane and liven things up.

In conclusion, although this was a business trip, we have fulfilled the purpose and have serious negotiations and finalities and things in the hands of our lawyer for the purchase of Pacific Pulbishing....and we did manage to find time for some firsts...

Mum had never had a pedicure, ridden on a motorcycle, or in 55 years of world travel, been pickpocketed.

I had never seen a crocodile or a boa constrictor outside of a zoo, crossed the continental divide six times in 3 weeks by car, bribed a cop (as DJ so indelicately yet accurately puts it), seen a live volcano, or experienced a tropical storm.

And neither of us had been involved in a high-speed chase!

So back to the world of the mundane. Of soccer games and business meetings, of bills and groceries and laundry. And planning for my next trip in late July or early August.

Aska Banana!

Monday.

I was very proud of our Canadian Embassy today. On Friday, Mum had made a phone call to the emergency number for foreign affairs in Canada, and had been assured that a file would be opened, and that the Embassy in CR would have it first thing Monday morning.

We had a bunch of banking and stuff to do first thing, but we drove into San Jose as soon as possible, and got to the embassy at around 10:45.

Not only did they have a file, but they expressed their opinion that Mum had definately "been through enough" and they did not want to trouble her any further, so they had taken the time to fill out all the forms she would need before we arrived, using the information from her records.

So Mum signed in five or six places, a pleasant gentleman came in and took her picture with a digital camera, and they suggested we go and have some lunch, and come back in an hour or so.

An hour or so later, we came back, and they handed Mum her new emergency passport, good for one trip only, but perfectly acceptable to get us home.

So we made it back to Atenas in plenty of time to meet with our lawyer and have dinner with friends at La Trilla.

All the businessy stuff is now taken care of, so we can relax tomorrow and concentrate on getting the car back, and getting to the airport on time.

Oh, another first for today - I saw a live and free boa constrictor. The gardener at Colinas Del Sol was fishing it out of one of the potted plants on the patio in front of our room. Here is a poorly focused picture of him trying to squeeze the life out of a metal rod. The gardener walked him to the far side of the driveway (about 8' away), and shook him off on the other side of the curb, right next to the stairs we take to get breakfast. The boas, he explained, are good because they eat mice and other pests, but the guests are unhappy if they get to close to the rooms. This one is a baby. Apparently Mama, who we didn't get to meet, is 2.5 metres long.

Kareoke, Costa Rican Style

Los Mangos #2 is...imagine a very large tin-roofed shed, open on three sides, built on a hill in a field. It has a concrete floor that rises with the slope of the field in stages so that there are different levels; there is a bar in the middle, and tables and chairs everywhere else. Ominously, at least in retrospect, there is a massive widescreen projection TV on the back wall of the highest level. As we sat down to order, there were Spanish words on it, turning from yellow to blue as someone sang them.

It is kareoke night.

Spanish songs...I will rephrase that. Songs in Spanish that I have heard sung in Costa Rica, and there are not many, all seem to be slow, sentimental things about love. Or at least the few words that I can get, or translate when I see them, suggest that this is true. There is a guitar or two in the background, gently strummed. And so it was here.

Kareoke in Atenas does not require that the participant get up on a stage; rather a wireless microphone is brought to one's table, and from the comfort of one's chair, one has at it. In the dimly lit, open shed in a pasture with rain drumming out of the night, you cannot always know in whose hands the microphone has been placed. Perhaps relative anomynity confers courage.

Before I say anything else, I must point out that my own skills at singing are non-existent, and that I could not do even half as well as what followed. But at least I know that I cannot carry a tune in a bucket.

Someone had been indifferently wringing the pleasure out of a song and hanging the remains up to dry when we arrived, but not obtrusively so. That ended and we ordered. After some time the man working the kareoke machine got up and passed the torch to some burly Costa Rican men in trucker's caps seated around at table covered in food and beer bottles quite close to us, and it occured to me that we might accidently offend someone. I opened my mouth to say that whatever happened next, we should not laugh; the words never made it out of my mouth.

Afterwards, Jane said that at least, he did manage to hit some notes.

He didn't just hit them, he smashed them bloody to the floor, kicked them while they were down, then backed up and drove over the corpses two or three times. The rest of the time he let sheer volume and toughened vocal cords exuberently beat the thing into submission. He OWNED that song, and never let it forget it.

It was a ballad.

Picture a bull charging out of the gate into the bull ring and straight for the matador, a juiced-up wrestler grabbing his opponent the instant the bell rings and never letting go, a back-alley settling of a gangland feud... and then give up, because this does not do the carnage justice.

Of course I laughed.

I started laughing the moment he slaughtered the first word with a bellow and only stopped some time after he did, my back to his table, shaking, breathless and paralysed. As he sang, I tried to stop when I could focus on the effort; I probably would have bitten my lip through except that he would find a new way to mangle a note and start me off again. He wasn't just handing in a merely adequate performance, he was pouring his soul into the microphone, like Frank Sinatra trying to impress God, but without the humility.

It was worse than laughing in church or at a funeral, unless they have taken to serving beer at either.

If I had a thought, it was mostly about how hard this was going to be to explain in the three or four words of Spanish that I know, that I wasn't laughing AT him, but WITH him, before he gave up clubbing the notes and started in on the bystanders.

Lord he was bad.

I know that as a guest here it is not my place to do anything but avoid Los Mango Dos on kareoke night for the rest of my life, and believe me, this will not be hard. (The food is so good I would gladly eat here any and every other night) The gentleman has every right to sing in any off-key manner he sees fit, and his willingness to do so in public is probably to be commended rather than censured. I don't think any of the other patrons nearly had embarassing accidents while listening; in fact there were others there equally willing to perform as poorly, if without the verve. Sometime afterward, a woman sang, and Jane informs me that that she was musically more incompetent. Perhaps this is true; I lack the skill to judge. She only marginally reminded us of a cat pulled by its tail though a knothole in the barn wall. But at least she wasn't as loud.

Sunday

Sunday...

So we are now at today. A travel day mostly - although Geoff took Gran for a spin on his bike before we left.

We arrived in Atenas after a pleasant but uneventful drive, only to find out that the hotel we had arranged to stay at was no longer a hotel.

This wasn't a problem, as we went to the (only) other hotel in town, now the only hotel in town, and got two great rooms on a hill overlooking the valley. Due to the aforementioned thunderstorm, we haven't yet seen much of what we are overlooking, but there is always tomorrow.

We went out for bocas at Los Mangos Dos, a little bar on the other side of town, where we all ate to capacity for less than $20. I am going to leave it to Rob to describe, as a guest writer, the entertainment at LMD.

The rain has mostly stopped now, Geoff has gone off to Sharyn and Mike's place to stay, and Mum and Rob have both headed for bed. I can hear what sounds like a waterfall somewhere, and there is some sort of a plant nearby which has a fantastic perfume. There are crickets and night birds, and the water on the leaves across the driveway is sparkling like Christmas lights.

I have just been joined by a Gekko. It is about 24 degrees. Sometime, I suppose, I will have to go inside and go to bed, but for now, I think I might just sit outside and enjoy the night.

Saturday

Not as crazy as Friday. Gran was interested in seeing the nearby community of Guaitil, where Rob and I had been on our last trip to buy some pottery. The local people in this town are still making things using techniques passed down for thousands of years. We were given a demonstration of the continuous process of making the pottery by a woman and her niece, and picked up some nice pieces.

On the way we stopped in Filadelfia, and took some pictures of the massive iguanas that live in the parque. Some of these guys are as big as a medium sized dog!

In the afternoon we introduced Lincoln and Deanna to Ocatal, a nearby beach with a little more shade than Coco and some cool looking sand. We lazed around in the water for a few hours and enjoyed the sunshine and perfect temperature.

We ate supper at our studio then went back to La Vida Loca for drinks (soft for most of us) and pool and table tennis. Then back to our place for a late night swim.

I wonder, as Geoff often says, what the rich people are doing.

Friday

Disaster strikes. We started the day calmly enough with grocery shopping and banking. On the way back from the bank we stopped at a fruit stand to by sandia, pina y tamate all fresh from the field.

Mum wanted to take a picture of Lincoln and Deanna buying produce at the stand, so she took her camera out of her purse and tried to line up a good shot. Unfortunately it seemed that everywhere she went there were two women blocking her way. She finally got her picture, but as we were walking back to the car, she realized that her wallet, passport and change purse were all gone from her purse.

She raised the alarm right away, and pointed out the women and their car, which was pulling away as she spoke. I would like to say we dived into the car and took off at high speed, but what really happened is that we fumbled around for a few seconds, with me unlocking the car door with the key from outside, while Rob helpfully locked it again from the inside, decided Lincoln should drive anyway, shifted seats, and THEN took off at high speeds.

In fairness to the little Yaris, it tried its level best, topping out at 145 kph but was no match for the RAV4 which contained the miserable little theives. We kept them in sight for quite a few kilometres, dodging in and out of traffic, but a bus stopped on the road and a number of vehicles coming the other way gave it an opportunity to get ahead, and eventually we lost them.

Lincoln, I must say, has missed his calling. He should have been James Bond. Very few people would have been able to follow that car and keep up as long as he did.

"Well!" says Mum, "Now I know what it's like to be in a high speed chase!"

So the rest of the day was filled to capacity with a visit to the police station, and far too much time on the phone with various credit card companies trying to get things cancelled.

The final tally? All of her credit cards, all of her debit cards, her drivers licence, health card and passport, and just short of $200.

A phone call to foreign affairs in Canada and we now know that we should be able to get documents from the Canadian Embassy tomorrow that will allow us to get home on time.

We ended the day nicely with a BBQ, a walk on the beach, and swimming at Geoff's pool in the rain.

Today we introduced Lincoln to Ruth, who is looking for a database programmer for her children's book project. We also made agreements which will become a formal purchase of her publishing company. Bonnie, Ruth's Mom and business partner fed us coffee and cake (again) and we headed out, feeling like a great job had been well done.

We decided to take the southern route through the mountains to the coast and avoid the San Ramon/Esparza construction, so we stopped in Atenas for lunch, and to try and find a cable for the ipod. We ended up leaving Atenas later than we would have liked, so we had only made it about two thirds of the way back before it got dark. With the darkness came the torrential downpours, of course, so I got to drive once again in a pitch black waterfall on unfamiliar roads that often don't have lines painted on them. I had loads of fun!

We got back in time for a BBQ at Geoff's, and a swim. Rob and I moved out to our own place. Sadly a horribly dirty room at Ruby's with visible mold growing on the bathroom walls and a bed that felt like a slab of concrete with a blanket on it. Yuck.

We had originally planned to stay for three nights, because it was supposed to only be $30 per night - but one night was enough. On the way out, they told us it was actually $40, because there were two people. That was really the last straw. "Nope" says I, "We were told 20 dollares, no 20 mil colones. And that was that.

Lincoln and Deanna have rented a studio apartment at the Green Forest, and we had been told we could stay in one ourselves for $50 per night. Turns out it was actually $35. Beautiful!