Day 9: Do you know the way to San Jose?

I started the day with a sunrise swim in the ocean, trying to soak in the pink and lavender sky reflecting on the wet black sand, and ocean water tepid enough to walk into comfortably. But the desire to linger was at odds with remembering what the drive was like from the airport and getting nervous about the possible traffic on the way back. Wouldn’t you know, the traffic was fine and I arrived at the airport with hours to spare. 

seeing the birds coast above the breaking wave reminded me of home

loved seeing the forest meet the water

the resident macaws across the street from my hotel

The first leg of the flight had me seated in between a guy who flies from Florida to Costa Rica monthly so he can play golf and get drunk (and wasn’t ready to quit drinking yet), and a girl from New England who was in a training program there but coming home early for mental health reasons. I’m normally content to watch the movies and leave people alone, but she clearly wanted to talk to someone, and that was me.

Our layover in Fort Lauderdale had the adventure of navigating customs, and because I’d checked the box that I’d visited a farm I was pulled into a smaller windowless room for additional screening. That line moved even slower, and I felt bad for some of the travelers who looked stressed about missing connecting flights. When I finally had a chance to explain that the farm I’d visited was a cocoa farm, they dismissed me and my gear for the final leg. I wasn’t sure if the layover was going to be long enough, but in the end I had plenty of time to wait at the gate–a little too long. I’d settled into a nice spot, called home, and had started to lose track of time until I heard them calling my name. It turns out the gate was switched to one just behind a column from where I’d been sitting so I hadn’t seen any of the boarding, but made it just in time. The plane was nearly empty, I enjoyed a movie, and before long was home and in my own bed again.