March 24, 1 a.m. O’Hare Airport

Our flight for San Jose, Costa Rica via Mexico City left at 2:00 a.m. Jane, being a true friend, dropped us off at the airport at 11:00. We left our winter coats in the car. We checked our bags and went through security, removing all fluids from our carry-on bags and contents of our pockets, and taking off our shoes and belts. Silly me, I forgot about my watch, but the guard just asked if I was wearing one. I pulled back my sleeve, and she let me pass. We reassembled and went to our gate to begin the first of many waits of the day.

O'Hare, one of the busiest airports in the world, at 1:00 in the morning.

Our flight went off without a hitch. We arrived in Mexico City at 5:00 a.m. Diane told me that Mexico and Costa Rica were on the same time zone, but it turned out that they weren't because they had not yet switched to daylight savings time. It was still a long time until our next flight left at 8:30 P.M. Lord. I did not possess sufficient joie de vivre to even consider trying to go through security in and out to try to spend the day in Mexico City itself. And so we hung around the airport. By the end of 15 hours, we knew where to get the best food and the cheapest bottled water. We challenged ourselves by trying to get comfortable enough on the hard plastic chairs to take a nap. Not having been able to nap in the afternoon before we left, I was tired enough to fall asleep for a brief period of time.

The Return of Mr. Hankyhead: Terry tries to nap in the Mexico City Airport

At long last, we were back in the air. We arrived in San Jose at 11:30, retrieved our bags and got through customs without incident. We were set upon by taxi vultures desperate for American dollars. We fended them off as best we could as I tried to read the directions I’d been sent from Casa Bella Rita, our B&B for what was left of the night, for where to meet their driver. The most obnoxious of the vultures insisted on helping us find our driver over my protestations and then had the gall to ask for a tip. I was tempted to say, “My tip for you is to stop being such a pain in the ass,” but I gave him a dollar instead. Grr.

Compared to Illinois, San Jose was hot. Our bedroom at Casa Bella Rita was stuffy. The window above the shower in the bathroom opened, but the window in the bedroom did not. I had to turn off the ceiling fan because it squeaked. No matter. We were so exhausted, the bed felt so comfortable, and it was so very lovely to lie flat that we were both deeply asleep in short order.

The balcony at Casa Bella Rita

A knock came on the door much too soon the next morning. It was Diane, telling us it was 6:15, that breakfast was in 15 minutes, and we had to be ready to leave for Nature Air at 7:00. I set a personal best for fastest shower and was dressed, packed, and at the table at 6:30. In the daylight, Casa Bella Rita had a lovely view of a canyon and a hay field. How ironic, I thought, to travel halfway around the world to have breakfast while looking at half-ton bales.

The view from Casa Bella Rita. The hay bales are on the flat part at the top of the valley.