Transitions

3 Days of Transition

Day 1

Cebolla drove us from Lake Gardens near Nuevo Arenal to (Ay-Chihuahua!) San Jose. As we approached San Ramon just north of San Jose, you could feel Cebolla's tension increase 4 fold as the traffic became bumper to bumper, all the way into San Jose. At one point Cebolla asks, gesturing with his right arm, "This is right, si?" Yes, curious question but hey, like the rest of us learning a foreign language, vocabulary needs a review. A few kilometers later Cebolla looks at me and says, "Give me directions to your hotel." Oh crap! Fortunately, Myra had it loaded on Google Maps so she handed me her phone, I was sitting up front. It was totally weird because it looked like we had to do a U-turn. Great -  stupid app! And as we got closer traffic was ground to a halt - major construction on the main arterial. A little further up it did indeed do a turn-loopy- kind of thing?? We had lots of time to decide on a strategy as traffic was veeerrrryyy sloooooow. A few more Ay-chihuahuas and we arrived at our hotel. Cebolla looks at me, "How do I get out of here?" I take his phone, fortunately an android I'm familiar with, I turn on his GPS and key in San Jose airport. It - finally - shows the route and I hand it back to him. He looks at the phone and then back to me like "your kidding, right?" I check the volume and shrug my shoulders.  As we hump it in to the hotel I look back and Cebolla has recruited a local to give him directions.  

As usual Myra's detective work was awesome! The hotel is 5 minutes from the airport and the accommodations are exactly what we need: quiet, clean, a pool and a free breakfast. Plus, a free shuttle to the airport. The front desk clerk looks at us skeptically, "The construction is horrible, you should give yourself an extra hour to get to the airport (that's 5-minutes away)." We don't mind being early, especially for international flights and not knowing how the airline will handle my guitar. 

Day 2

The next morning it took us only 15 minutes to arrive at the airport. The ticket gal eventually decided that my guitar was carry-on. Excellent. We do the security shuffle and find our gate. Now SJO is a small, newer airport. Not really a Duty-free gauntlet like most airports, but rather an "All-things Costa Rica" display of wares.  We park at a table in the food area and Myra takes the first shift at a walk about. "Hours" later Myra comes back all jittery and face smeared with chocolate. She stammers, "Free c-c-coffee and chocolate samples," she waves her arms, "Go! go! go!" 

Eventually a salesman shows up while I'm gulping down sample cup after sample cup of dark roasted bliss. I collect my wits and check my mouth for extra chocolate. Myra's new favorite airport. Mine too.

We get into Mexico City. As we taxi in, Volaris announcement says in English, "If you have a connecting flight please see a Volaris agent when you leave the aircraft." She just didn't say where. We finally spot the flight attendant from our flight. "Oh! you have to go under that tarp to make your connection!" Sure enough, the tarp covered scaffolding was a dead give away that that would be the way to our next flight.  Wrong! It's security yet again.  Ok, new country, I guess. We're a little disorganized, but thankfully the family behind us reminded us that we should take ALL of our luggage with us through the check. Good grief.

 I am thankful that the drug-sniffing dog didn't chew off my arm as I was extracted from the line. The guard asked me, "Did you come from Columbia?" I thought "Oh sh!t, what was on the floor that is now on my back pack?" The dog checks a few more bags, comes back to mine, and looks up at his handler, "This is the one!" The guard opens my backpack and pulls out 2 oranges and an apple. Damn, we could have really enjoyed those just a little earlier. He gives the dog a treat, and asks me, "Is this the only fruit in your bag?" Yes. "It is illegal to bring fresh fruit into Mexico!" Sorry. He lets me off the hook. 

We ask another official looking guy if this is the way to the gates, absolutely no signage. We get to our gate. Its fortunate that we've been through Mexico City's International airport before. It is so poorly signed - unless of course you referring to advertising then its chalked full of it. Old, huge, noisy, poorly signed and designed, Myra's new least favorite airport. Extremes all in one trip.

Landing in PV in the evening on a local flight was a a pleasure. No huge crowds, no customs. We check with the Taxi "front-line" and they are way-way too much money. The "Official Taxi" was also outrageously priced. We schlump our stuff over the bridge and find a taxi for 200 pesos less. As we were enroute the driver asks, "You are tired sir?" I didn't realize it, but I must have been dozing. Long day. Again Myra has picked a fantastic hotel. Close to the airport and close to our friends we plan to meet in the morning for brunch.  Perfecto!

Day 3

It is always great to see familiar faces when you travel and we thoroughly enjoyed our visit with Glenn and Thom over a brunch and walk through the marina. The last time the four of  us met outside the country was in New Zealand 15 years ago. Afterwards its a Wal-Mart stop and taxi to the terminal - or rather "Centro." The agent at the desk informs Myra that the bus is leaving in 5 minutes! Wow! Talk about timing! Myra uses the banos and almost misses the bus! The open again, closed again bus terminal in Guayabitos was closed again. So we got dropped off at the side of the road. Just as the poor driver pulls out the last of all our crap, a taxi shows up and drops off a fare.  We hire him on the spot and he takes us right to our home for the next little while. Staff and other repeat lodgers greet us in recognition. So it feels welcome. We throw our luggage in the room and walk the beach. As luck would have it we meet our friends Luc and Sue at Karla's Restaurante and join them to visit.

Whew! I need a beer.

Here's a sunset picture from our room: