My Favorite $200 Mistake

I left Monteverde with a heavy heart. I sighed. I stared out the bus window and listened to moody music on my iPod. I let a touch of a smile grace my lips as I remembered all the fun times, and know without a doubt that I´d be back, man...
The bus ride was a long and uneventful one, and I found myself getting anxious and excited the closer we got to San Jose. I was going to see Leslie and the next day we´d be on our way to surf camp with Stella!! That was the only thought that made it okay to leave my little cloud forest paradise, and it was a great one! I got to the airport without a hitch and of course realized I hadn´t written down Leslie's flight number but whatever. There was only one door out of the terminal and there was no way I would miss her.
Plan A: meet at the airport and take free hotel shuttle. Leslie´s flight landed at 7pm, after which she would have to go through customs which took me an hour and a half. If we for some reason didn´t find each other by 10pm, we´d move to Plan B: meeting at the Courtyard Marriot where Les had a reservation.
I stood in Departures and looked for Leslie. And looked and waited. And waited and looked. Before I knew it...that´s a lie. Time dragged. It was ages. And I felt every minute of it as I stood against the wall, waiting for Leslie with the linebacker (my big backpack) and the rest of my luggage (my little backpack.) - it was 10:30p and no Leslie. I wander like a zombie towards the taxi line and let myself be cajoled into taking a shuttle. At this point I am so tired, hungry and pissy that I don´t care, though it occurs to me that I should be in a red taxi as they are the only ones that are bonafied transporation. Everything else, including the shuttle I got into, has the possibility of being anything from a money scam to a rapist/kidnapper if its not just a driver taking jobs for money under the table.
I make it alive and unharmed to the Courtyard, and indeed the ride is SUPER expensive. I am used to paying $2.50 for a 5 hour bus ride, so $25 for a 10 minute cab ride qualifies as highway robbery. Again, I am so exhausted by this point - by now its 11pm , after a 5 hour bus ride and over 3 hours on my feet at the airport - that I only care in retrospect.
I get to the front desk. I ask for Leslie. She ísn´t in the system. She has a reservation. No, she doesn´t. Of course she does, I have the confirmation number and its...for tomorrow night.
INTERESTING.
My Costa Rican reverie had me so wrapped in misty clouds and loveliness, that I had the wrong day. I collapsed against the front desk, checked into a room, went upstairs to my air-conditioned, pillow-topped queen mattress with cable TV and high-water pressured hot shower, and cried and cried until I fell asleep.
I woke up feeling better, but still oh, so very stupid. Now I had entire day to kill before I had to do the airport pick-up all over again, since I had no way to get a hold of Leslie to let her know I was already here. So I pouted a little and lounged. The room cost more for one night than an entire week at my Pension Santa Elena, and, dammit, I was going to get my money´s worth. I took the longest, hottest shower I could stomach and then watched a few movies. The subtitling actually helped my Spanish, so you could say I was studying. When I was forced to check out, I found a cute coffee shop with a free outlet for my computer and sat down to an incredible lunch, great coffee, and yummy dessert as I wrote for a few hours. Then I walked around the "complex" where the Courtyard was housed: I cruised the Hooters, Outback Steakhouse, the Jag dealership, etc, gag me, etc, for the 10 minutes I could stand before I headed back to the hotel lobby. I found myself a super comfy couch and another free outlet where I continued to write and then read until I had to leave for the airport again. This time I was armed with Leslie´s flight number and even checked the progress of the flight, so I knew it was running an hour and a half late. I hopped in the free shuttle from the hotel, got to departures, and saw Leslie walk out immediately!
It was so great to see her, and SO SATISFYING that the plan went off without a hitch - yes, I had a day to practice, but really the wasted day i had so lamented that morning had turned out to be super productive, comfortable, and even fun!
The next morning, while Leslie and I had breakfast at my old coffee shop, some crazy blond burst in and started giving me a load of crap! Stella and the surf camp shuttle had arrived early!! Huge hugs, and then Leslie and I scampered back to the room to quickly pack up and check out.
We loaded into the van. Leslie, Stella, me, and 3 other surfers-to-be, Jennifer and her 2 amazingly cute children, Henry, 6, and Emily, 9. We had a great trip down, checked in and spent the rest of the day exploring Dominical. Dominical is this: hot, muggy, muddy, and mosquito-infested. Dominical is also this: Surfer Paradise.
We had our first lesson this afternoon and I am happy to report all three of us got up on our boards! Surfing is both easier and harder than I imagined. We are all exhausted!! Eating my way through Costa Rica via pina empanandas and ice cream cones really hasn´t done me any fitness-favors either. Surfing is TIRING. Of course Henry and Emily were naturals, getting up on the boards on their first try. Thank god they are so cute and sweet, or I might really begrudge them.