Oh, what a breakfast. The standard gallo pinto and fresh fruit, along with pastries, bacon, cereal and amazing do-it-yourself Belgian waffles. In retrospect, I should have taken that delightful start to my day as a sign of good things to come. Instead, I had a lot of anxiety about whether or not we’d get out of the country and get our mangled travel plans back in order.
Before we even reached the American Airlines desk, some of American counterparts confirmed that the flight to Miami was going to depart as planned. This time we made our way into the open air “gate” area and watched our plane touchdown like a big white mirage. We made it to Miami and I immediately jumped on the phone to Westin to see if they’d forgive our missed reservation the previous night and move it to the current night. I reached someone at Westin reservations who told me that I’d have to call Priceline because I had bid on the room and won it there. I called Priceline and was told that they could do nothing to help me, and that I needed to call the hotel if there was any chance of getting the reservation changed. My hope was dwindling to depressing levels when I called the front desk of the Dallas Westin directly. I spoke to a wonderful girl name Emily who, when she heard our predicament, changed the reservation.
We didn’t have long to get lunch before our flight was scheduled to depart for Dallas, so we sat down at a sports bar in the terminal and ordered our food. I got a beer and quickly swallowed the $3 shot of tequila that came with it. I needed courage and assertiveness.
I called Southwest Airlines, remembering that you “attract bees with honey,” but knowing full well that I might have to get forceful, dramatic, pushy and/or desperate in order to get our already missed flight (from Phoenix to Portland) switched to the following day. A man who sounded competent and fairly kindhearted got on the phone and I jumped into my frantic, jumbled speech: “I’m in a bind and I’m on my honeymoon and I hope you can help me…”
Moments later the man said, “It looks like you’re already booked on tomorrow’s flight.”
WHAT? I started to cry a little in relief, sniffling and babbling thanks to this poor guy sitting in a call center in who-knows-where. Once we would arrive home the next day I would find an email from Southwest in my inbox. They had received the message I sent from the Liberia hotel and, taking great pity on me, changed the reservation – though that is something they hardly ever do because they have “rules” to abide by.
I returned to our table in the restaurant and told Jesse the news. We were jubilantly thankful. Our waitress poured our remaining beer into a “to-go cup” for the plane (who knew that was an option?!) and we made it to our gate just in time to board the flight to Dallas.
Upon our arrival, we took the Westin shuttle to our hotel. The room was beautiful, but we had little time to enjoy it. We got dinner at the Denny’s across the street and then headed straight for bed. We rose very early the next day and hopped on our plane to Phoenix, where we met Johnny. In a wonderful display of kindness, he brought all the rest of our luggage to the airport for us. We checked as many bags as we could (we were now traveling with 6 of them) and started the 4 hour wait for our flight to Portland.
In my carry on book bag was the Dia de los Muertos style skull sculpture (skullpture) that our dear friend Stephanie had given us as a wedding gift. The massive clay skull is painted and bedecked with beads, jewels and knickknacks. I was fairly apprehensive to send the gorgeous beast through the x-ray machine at the security checkpoint. I carefully set my bag on the conveyer belt and walked through the metal detector, keeping my eye on the machine screener. I watched as the skull slowly rolled onto the screen, a tangled unidentifiable mess to my untrained eye.
“WHAT is THAT?!” yelled the lady.
“A skull,” I replied.
“Alla the sudden I’ve got somebody LOOKING at me,” said the lady.
“It was a wedding gift,” I said. Like I really needed to say that.
“Then you’ve got some PRETTY WEIRD friends,” said the lady.
I wasn’t about to dispute that.
They didn’t even want to unwrap my skull and look at it; I was shocked. Their loss. We had made it through our last significant challenge. We boarded the plane to Portland, then took the MAX from there. We got home by about 6:30pm after more than 2 weeks away. Jesse forgot to carry me over the threshold. We were home and we were married!
THE END.
Showing posts with label Costa Rica. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Costa Rica. Show all posts
10.20.2009
10.19.2009
September 27 - Papagayo to Liberia
I woke up at 1:45am, thinking I had overslept. A little over 4 hours later, the alarm sounded and we got breakfast before lugging our heavy bags up the hill to reception. Reliable Armando picked us up and we left lovely Papagayo for Liberia, where our departure airport was located.
We paid the requisite departure tax (so cruel, making you pay to leave the country you don’t entirely want to leave in the first place) and walked over to the American Airlines desk. The attendant looked up our names in his computer and looked up at us slowly, saying “I have some bad news for you.” The bad news was that our flight was delayed and unconfirmed, so we went upstairs to have coffee and to play Farkle. Before long, we, along with a big group of other Americans, learned that our flight had been outright cancelled and we’d have to leave the next day at the earliest. Now, when I have made a plan, I think things to go according to that plan. I felt a bit of panic.
My unhappiness was tempered by the free hotel, lunch, dinner and breakfast vouchers the airline provided for the nearby Hilton Garden Inn. A group of us packed into the hotel shuttle, driven by a mad kamikaze man who seemingly almost flipped the van over on the way into the parking lot. We checked into our room, which was very, very clean and comfortable, and walked down to the internet room to get in touch with the U.S. for the first time in a week. I emailed my mother, the Westin hotel (in Dallas) that we were supposed to be staying at that night, Southwest Airlines (whose flight we were supposed to be catching to Portland the next day), and Annie and Johnny (who we were supposed to be meeting up with the next day to retrieve the rest of our luggage).
We spent the rest of the day eating delicious food, swimming and sunbathing at the beautiful tiled pool, drinking cocktails, and watching television. We also got some laundry done in an honest-to-goodness washer (read: not a sink) and were told by our new friend Lou that we are a “very international looking couple.” I sure liked the sound of that.
We paid the requisite departure tax (so cruel, making you pay to leave the country you don’t entirely want to leave in the first place) and walked over to the American Airlines desk. The attendant looked up our names in his computer and looked up at us slowly, saying “I have some bad news for you.” The bad news was that our flight was delayed and unconfirmed, so we went upstairs to have coffee and to play Farkle. Before long, we, along with a big group of other Americans, learned that our flight had been outright cancelled and we’d have to leave the next day at the earliest. Now, when I have made a plan, I think things to go according to that plan. I felt a bit of panic.
My unhappiness was tempered by the free hotel, lunch, dinner and breakfast vouchers the airline provided for the nearby Hilton Garden Inn. A group of us packed into the hotel shuttle, driven by a mad kamikaze man who seemingly almost flipped the van over on the way into the parking lot. We checked into our room, which was very, very clean and comfortable, and walked down to the internet room to get in touch with the U.S. for the first time in a week. I emailed my mother, the Westin hotel (in Dallas) that we were supposed to be staying at that night, Southwest Airlines (whose flight we were supposed to be catching to Portland the next day), and Annie and Johnny (who we were supposed to be meeting up with the next day to retrieve the rest of our luggage).
We spent the rest of the day eating delicious food, swimming and sunbathing at the beautiful tiled pool, drinking cocktails, and watching television. We also got some laundry done in an honest-to-goodness washer (read: not a sink) and were told by our new friend Lou that we are a “very international looking couple.” I sure liked the sound of that.
10.16.2009
September 26 - Papagayo
We slathered on gobs of sunscreen and got a bit to eat before walking down to the black sand beach to catch our ferry over to the hotel’s illustrious white sand beach. As we waited we watched big pelicans flying directly over head and bobbing in the ocean. It was a very sunny 15 minute ride across the gulf to the beach, a stretch of hot white sand broken into two segments by the high tide.
The scenery was just breathtaking – a long cove with a large area shaded by trees and rows of blue chaise lounges set out. We spent a lot of time floating in the sea in order to keep cool and we eventually made our way toward one edge of the beach. We stood among small schools of fish, one variety of which had bright yellow striped with black like a bumblebee. Jesse explored into a group of rocks jutting from the water, but I kept a safe distance. At one point I heard a big splash behind me, then another. I turned to see that two big crabs had leapt out of the water and onto some rocks. I climbed back onto land and sat for a while on a water-weathered log in a quiet spot under spotty shade. I watched several kinds of birds hop around on the branches surrounding me and I saw at least 5 or 6 types of butterflies – including one that had a glimmering panel of aquamarine in each wing, just like a stained glass window!
When we returned to the main beach and Jesse was immediately recruited for a soccer game. I sat in the ocean and watched him score his team’s very first goal. I had noticed a cute little girl and boy in the ocean near me. When the girl got close enough to me, I asked her in Spanish how she was doing. She was shy at first, but in no time she was sitting on my lap in the water, excitedly talking to me and asking me questions. Turns out she was 3 years old, from Costa Rica and her name was Fili (my guess at spelling a name pronounced like “fee-lee”). I understood about 60-65% of her Spanish and it was great practice trying to communicate with her! She asked a lot about my “hija” (daughter) and my father. I used our underwater camera to get a great photo of the two of us.
As difficult as it was to leave the cool refreshment of the water, I needed a beverage. I walked up to the open air eating area, where only two other people were standing around. Right as I arrived, a coati walked out of the forest and started nosing around, looking for something to eat! I didn’t have a camera with me, so I went back town and urged Jesse to check it out and grab a photo. We then had a quick carb-filled lunch and headed back to the water. Jesse decided he wanted to try out snorkeling, so he paddled off while I relaxed. I ended taking an awesome nap on my chair under the trees and woke up close to the time the ferry was supposed to be returning to get us. I realized that Jesse was nowhere to be found.
The last I knew, he had been heading toward the opposite end of the beach where a bigger rocky area sat. I set out down the scalding, endless beach, the 10,000 degree sun beating into my shoulders. I reached the very end and saw a figure floating facedown in the sea, many yards out from shore. “Jesse!” I yelled. “JEEEEEESSSSSSEEEEEE!” The figure ignored me. Jesse was having the time of his life. I didn’t exist to him anymore. There were only sea urchins and puffer fish. I threw down my flip flops and marched into the sea, yelling his name the whole time. After a while, he suddenly popped his head out of the water and stared at me with a confused look on his face. I indicated (in the nicest way, I’m sure) that it was time to return to camp. I turned and marched back out of the water and up the beach. Jesse followed, struggling to pull off his giant flippers and run after me.
Back on the boat, Jesse and 5 or 6 other guys decided to climb over the top railing and jump into the ocean. Twice. Unfortunately, I had used up the last of our disposable camera photos on land and couldn’t document this act of sheer bravery and fun. Someone, somewhere, has a picture of Jesse’s manly moment of glory.
When we made it back to shore, I had to stand on the beach with a man whose pottery we had purchased while Jesse went back to the room to get some cash. The man’s name was Salman and he was from Nicaragua. He ended up telling me his very interesting life story, including the part about how his old girlfriend went to Alaska and disappeared. He is now married to a woman from his church and he wants to come to New York to be a missionary with two of his siblings. He was a very sympathetic, good soul that made a big impression on me.
We finally made it down to the pool to sit on underwater bar stools and order draft Imperials. We did some last minute shopping, grabbed dinner and returned to our room to pack. Booo. Back to the U.S. the next day.
The scenery was just breathtaking – a long cove with a large area shaded by trees and rows of blue chaise lounges set out. We spent a lot of time floating in the sea in order to keep cool and we eventually made our way toward one edge of the beach. We stood among small schools of fish, one variety of which had bright yellow striped with black like a bumblebee. Jesse explored into a group of rocks jutting from the water, but I kept a safe distance. At one point I heard a big splash behind me, then another. I turned to see that two big crabs had leapt out of the water and onto some rocks. I climbed back onto land and sat for a while on a water-weathered log in a quiet spot under spotty shade. I watched several kinds of birds hop around on the branches surrounding me and I saw at least 5 or 6 types of butterflies – including one that had a glimmering panel of aquamarine in each wing, just like a stained glass window!
When we returned to the main beach and Jesse was immediately recruited for a soccer game. I sat in the ocean and watched him score his team’s very first goal. I had noticed a cute little girl and boy in the ocean near me. When the girl got close enough to me, I asked her in Spanish how she was doing. She was shy at first, but in no time she was sitting on my lap in the water, excitedly talking to me and asking me questions. Turns out she was 3 years old, from Costa Rica and her name was Fili (my guess at spelling a name pronounced like “fee-lee”). I understood about 60-65% of her Spanish and it was great practice trying to communicate with her! She asked a lot about my “hija” (daughter) and my father. I used our underwater camera to get a great photo of the two of us.
As difficult as it was to leave the cool refreshment of the water, I needed a beverage. I walked up to the open air eating area, where only two other people were standing around. Right as I arrived, a coati walked out of the forest and started nosing around, looking for something to eat! I didn’t have a camera with me, so I went back town and urged Jesse to check it out and grab a photo. We then had a quick carb-filled lunch and headed back to the water. Jesse decided he wanted to try out snorkeling, so he paddled off while I relaxed. I ended taking an awesome nap on my chair under the trees and woke up close to the time the ferry was supposed to be returning to get us. I realized that Jesse was nowhere to be found.
The last I knew, he had been heading toward the opposite end of the beach where a bigger rocky area sat. I set out down the scalding, endless beach, the 10,000 degree sun beating into my shoulders. I reached the very end and saw a figure floating facedown in the sea, many yards out from shore. “Jesse!” I yelled. “JEEEEEESSSSSSEEEEEE!” The figure ignored me. Jesse was having the time of his life. I didn’t exist to him anymore. There were only sea urchins and puffer fish. I threw down my flip flops and marched into the sea, yelling his name the whole time. After a while, he suddenly popped his head out of the water and stared at me with a confused look on his face. I indicated (in the nicest way, I’m sure) that it was time to return to camp. I turned and marched back out of the water and up the beach. Jesse followed, struggling to pull off his giant flippers and run after me.
Back on the boat, Jesse and 5 or 6 other guys decided to climb over the top railing and jump into the ocean. Twice. Unfortunately, I had used up the last of our disposable camera photos on land and couldn’t document this act of sheer bravery and fun. Someone, somewhere, has a picture of Jesse’s manly moment of glory.
When we made it back to shore, I had to stand on the beach with a man whose pottery we had purchased while Jesse went back to the room to get some cash. The man’s name was Salman and he was from Nicaragua. He ended up telling me his very interesting life story, including the part about how his old girlfriend went to Alaska and disappeared. He is now married to a woman from his church and he wants to come to New York to be a missionary with two of his siblings. He was a very sympathetic, good soul that made a big impression on me.
We finally made it down to the pool to sit on underwater bar stools and order draft Imperials. We did some last minute shopping, grabbed dinner and returned to our room to pack. Booo. Back to the U.S. the next day.
September 25 - Papagayo and Artola
We just had time to grab breakfast from the buffet before our familiar driver Armando picked us up with new tour guide Eric in tow. We started the hour long drive to Artola where we’d be partaking in some wild zipline action. We opted for a photo CD of the day, which meant a guy would be following us with a camera and instructing us on how to pose. I’m thankful for that because it would have been way too difficult to manage the logistics of ziplining and photographing! The guides strapped and snapped a harness onto my hips without speaking and plopped a helmet on my head. We were joined by a couple, Chad and Katie, from Pittsburgh who had also gotten married on September 19th and were on their honeymoon.
Ziplining was absolutely amazing. We had several guides who showed us how to operate the necessary machinery and how to brake as we approached platforms. They made the whole experience a lot of fun by goofing around like crazy – shaking suspension bridges and pretending to let us walk off the raised platforms without being properly attached to the line! Katie was afraid of heights and was constantly shrieking in fear and calling for her husband. I, strangely, didn’t feel an ounce of fear despite being so high up. I was fully confident in the company’s safety measures and the knowledge of our guides.
We had the opportunity to try out a few different poses on the different lines, including the “Superman” and hanging completely upside down. On the longest line, which stretched far over the top of the canopy, a stunning butterfly followed right next to me as I sped from the platform into mid-air. I kept thinking that he would fly off, but he continued on parallel to my flight, right by my face.
It was amazingly hot and sweaty underneath the helmet which was squeezing my brains out. (At one point I removed the helmet to get some relief and then put it back on – backwards. A guide fixed the problem with a half-grin on his face. He was making fun of me in Spanish in his mind, I just know it.) We flew down to the ground from the last platform and I happily washed my hands and combed my hair with my fingers.
We were given the option to explore a small “zoo” for an entrance fee of $5 each. When I was told we could hold monkeys, I made my mind up fast. We entered an enclosure filled with white-faced (or capuchin) monkeys and a couple spider monkeys after removing all items from our pockets and jewelry from our bodies. We were given handfuls of sunflower seeds to offer to the monkeys and as soon as I stuck my hand out, a little capuchin monkey hopped onto my arm. I just about died of happiness.
Oh my goodness, to see this little guy peering into my eyes, his tiny fingers grasping my hand. He was very selective about the sunflower seeds he was eating, pushing many off my palm in broad sweeps of his monkey hand. He would pause midway through his munching and nestle his head into my chest. I soon realized he was licking my skin! The handler explained that he was looking for sweat. I eventually stood and my little friend climbed atop my head and began to suck the sweat from my hair! Yayyyyy.
Next we visited the Serpent Garden. Glass tanks of various sizes housed snakes of every variety. We were asked if we wanted to hold one. Oh sure! We are thinking about getting a snake anyway, so that’s perfect! Our zoo guide proceeded to pull a python out of its enclosure. The snake was at least 10 feet long and 2 feet in circumference. The man hoisted the massive beast up and over Jesse’s shoulders. Then it was my turn. After declining the pleasure several times, they convinced me to give it a shot. The center of the snake’s body was behind my head and I was shown how to hold him on his…..neck. His head wavered dangerously close to mine. He was looking at me. I was trying to breathe slowly and keep very calm because I figured he could sense my fear. He didn’t even try to squeeze me to death once!
Our last stop was the Butterfly Garden where we saw hundreds of Owl Butterflies with their amazing, creepy markings. We were shown a sort of “butterfly growing room” where there were caterpillars and butterflies in all stages of development. We spent a while in the gift shop before getting back in our van to return to the resort. As we drove back, we chatted a lot with Eric. He had a great desire to see the United States (and many other countries), so we exchanged information and told him he was more than welcome to stay with us if he ever made it up to Portland. We wanted to show him the same kind of hospitality that is so prevalent and highly valued across Costa Rica.
The rest of the day was very relaxed. I napped, we ate lunch and took a walk along the beach – spotting a big group of vultures dining on a dead manta ray! Inspired, I later watched Fear Factor while Jesse went for a swim. We had dinner at the Mexican a la carte restaurant and then did some souvenir shopping. Our last adventure was hiking up the hill to the lobby – a trip that turned into a bug hunt. We saw a beetle as big as my hand, a tiny gold Scarab beetle, geckos and even a scorpion – which I consider to be the most terrifying of all!
Ziplining was absolutely amazing. We had several guides who showed us how to operate the necessary machinery and how to brake as we approached platforms. They made the whole experience a lot of fun by goofing around like crazy – shaking suspension bridges and pretending to let us walk off the raised platforms without being properly attached to the line! Katie was afraid of heights and was constantly shrieking in fear and calling for her husband. I, strangely, didn’t feel an ounce of fear despite being so high up. I was fully confident in the company’s safety measures and the knowledge of our guides.
We had the opportunity to try out a few different poses on the different lines, including the “Superman” and hanging completely upside down. On the longest line, which stretched far over the top of the canopy, a stunning butterfly followed right next to me as I sped from the platform into mid-air. I kept thinking that he would fly off, but he continued on parallel to my flight, right by my face.
It was amazingly hot and sweaty underneath the helmet which was squeezing my brains out. (At one point I removed the helmet to get some relief and then put it back on – backwards. A guide fixed the problem with a half-grin on his face. He was making fun of me in Spanish in his mind, I just know it.) We flew down to the ground from the last platform and I happily washed my hands and combed my hair with my fingers.
We were given the option to explore a small “zoo” for an entrance fee of $5 each. When I was told we could hold monkeys, I made my mind up fast. We entered an enclosure filled with white-faced (or capuchin) monkeys and a couple spider monkeys after removing all items from our pockets and jewelry from our bodies. We were given handfuls of sunflower seeds to offer to the monkeys and as soon as I stuck my hand out, a little capuchin monkey hopped onto my arm. I just about died of happiness.
Oh my goodness, to see this little guy peering into my eyes, his tiny fingers grasping my hand. He was very selective about the sunflower seeds he was eating, pushing many off my palm in broad sweeps of his monkey hand. He would pause midway through his munching and nestle his head into my chest. I soon realized he was licking my skin! The handler explained that he was looking for sweat. I eventually stood and my little friend climbed atop my head and began to suck the sweat from my hair! Yayyyyy.
Next we visited the Serpent Garden. Glass tanks of various sizes housed snakes of every variety. We were asked if we wanted to hold one. Oh sure! We are thinking about getting a snake anyway, so that’s perfect! Our zoo guide proceeded to pull a python out of its enclosure. The snake was at least 10 feet long and 2 feet in circumference. The man hoisted the massive beast up and over Jesse’s shoulders. Then it was my turn. After declining the pleasure several times, they convinced me to give it a shot. The center of the snake’s body was behind my head and I was shown how to hold him on his…..neck. His head wavered dangerously close to mine. He was looking at me. I was trying to breathe slowly and keep very calm because I figured he could sense my fear. He didn’t even try to squeeze me to death once!
Our last stop was the Butterfly Garden where we saw hundreds of Owl Butterflies with their amazing, creepy markings. We were shown a sort of “butterfly growing room” where there were caterpillars and butterflies in all stages of development. We spent a while in the gift shop before getting back in our van to return to the resort. As we drove back, we chatted a lot with Eric. He had a great desire to see the United States (and many other countries), so we exchanged information and told him he was more than welcome to stay with us if he ever made it up to Portland. We wanted to show him the same kind of hospitality that is so prevalent and highly valued across Costa Rica.
The rest of the day was very relaxed. I napped, we ate lunch and took a walk along the beach – spotting a big group of vultures dining on a dead manta ray! Inspired, I later watched Fear Factor while Jesse went for a swim. We had dinner at the Mexican a la carte restaurant and then did some souvenir shopping. Our last adventure was hiking up the hill to the lobby – a trip that turned into a bug hunt. We saw a beetle as big as my hand, a tiny gold Scarab beetle, geckos and even a scorpion – which I consider to be the most terrifying of all!
10.07.2009
September 24 - Tortuguero to Papagayo
Another 5:00am morning for us, packing up our gear and scooting over to the dining hall for a breakfast promised to be merely “continental.” Continental, in Costa Rica anyway, apparently means coffee, orange juice, fresh pineapple, banana and papaya, breakfast ham, perfectly cooked fried eggs and tasty wheat bread, still hot from the oven. I told Gerardo that in the U.S., you could expect a small muffin in a plastic bag as your continental breakfast.
As we stood waiting for our shuttle boat to arrive, a toucan flew overhead! We boarded the boat and made the short ride over to the Tortuguero airstrip. I felt like royalty riding swiftly over the river, with just a driver, Gerardo and Jesse. Little did we know that our small 12 or 15-seater airplane would arrive – and Jesse and I would be the only passengers! The copilot gave a “ladies and gentleman” speech much more relaxed than the standard TSA lecture delivered back at home. We took off from the small strip of concrete boarded by rainforest on one side and the beach just through a line of trees on the other. It was a short ride to San Jose, where we walked off the plane and across the tarmac to a very, very small gate area to wait for our next flight. We had a strange array of snacks while we waited, including a blueberry muffin and a pear yogurt beverage named “Likigurt.”
Our next plane, which was the same size as the first, was full. We flew to the tiny Tamarindo airport to drop off some of the passengers, and then continued on to Liberia. I spotted a really weird bug that looked like it had been covered in white spray paint, but I was feeling a little too rushed to get a picture. We were greeted by a new driver, Armando, with whom we spoke Spanish the entire ride to the resort. Well, Jesse spoke and I generally just listened. Jesse accidentally told Armando that he’d been to all 50 states, which Armando find very impressive.
We arrived at the Allegro Papagayo Hotel and checked in, receiving our prized golden bracelets that let everyone know we were on our honeymoon. The resort was all-inclusive in terms of food and alcohol, but we were promised some extra perks for the occasion. We tossed our bags in our room and set out to explore. We got excited to see a big iguana sunning itself on a bush, and then realized that the creatures dotted the whole place! We got a bite to eat at the snack bar and walked down to the black sand beach. We walked along the shore for a while, examining the thousands of pretty seashells and the occasional fish body.
Returning to our room, we decided to take a nap in air-conditioned comfort. We woke to realize that we’d completely missed lunch, so we went back to sleep. Those early mornings had caught up to us. We woke again in time for dinner and set out for “La Trattoria” – the hotel’s a la carte Italian restaurant. Reservations were required and a dress code was loudly announced – a dress code which we couldn’t abide by due to our limited clothing and shoe selection. Fortunately, another diner had his shirt unbuttoned practically down to his navel.
Thinking our day was nearing its close, we walked back up to our room, spotting a mama raccoon and several babies along the way. We washed some clothes with bar soap in the sink (a necessity with a 25 pound limit on luggage) and decided to take a quick trip to the hot tub and maybe play a short game of darts at the bar before retiring. Unfortunately, we found the hot tub closed by the time we got down to the pool area. And then there was only one dart in the dart board. The foosball table opened up, so we positioned ourselves there.
Less than three minutes later, I was approached by a member of the “Occidental Fun Club.” The young man directed me to repeat his words to Jesse.
Jesse. If you do not participate in tonight’s production. I will not sleep with you.
And so Jesse decided to participate in the night’s production. Then I got roped into participating as well – bikini top and all. What was the production? GREASE. We were directed to a dressing room along with three men, and told to choose button-up suit jackets. We were then herded backstage and told to choose instruments – Jesse got the bongo drums and I opted for a big cymbal. Our “director” told us to watch the stage for the big red car and once the song “Greased Lightning” began, we were to put on our jackets, grab our instruments and position ourselves just behind the curtain.
I wanted to quit. I wanted to go hide in our room till the next day, bailing out on the rest of the cast. Jesse didn’t act like that was an option so I stuck around. In the meantime, we met Will, a Costa Rican native who had spent many years in the U.S. and who had just returned to Costa Rica 11 months prior (read: preemptively running from the law). He convinced us to do shots of tequila to steel our nerves before our Costa Rican stage debuts. A Spanish-speaking man, Patricio, who looked like he was from Michigan, joined us. Then it was time; the car appeared and the familiar notes of “Greased Lightning” rang out. We grabbed our jackets (I was happy to cover my skin), our instruments, and the curtains opened and music began!
We were only to pretend we were playing our instruments. I nervously tapped my cymbal while Jesse bongoed away next to me. Patricio – previously quiet and shy – ran twirling across the stage, sticking his microphone in each of our faces to do singing “solos.” It was madness. The song flowed into another…this was taking fooooreeeever.
Once our part finally ended, we headed back over the bar with Will. Turns out he had worked at the same software sales company as Jesse had – only at a Costa Rica branch rather than in Beaverton, Oregon. The raccoon family came down and raided garbage cans in the bar area. I got close to a little baby who was too immersed in what he was doing to notice me.
The bar closed and we moved to the empty discothèque…which it seems they opened up just for us. The night ended significantly later than I had anticipated.
As we stood waiting for our shuttle boat to arrive, a toucan flew overhead! We boarded the boat and made the short ride over to the Tortuguero airstrip. I felt like royalty riding swiftly over the river, with just a driver, Gerardo and Jesse. Little did we know that our small 12 or 15-seater airplane would arrive – and Jesse and I would be the only passengers! The copilot gave a “ladies and gentleman” speech much more relaxed than the standard TSA lecture delivered back at home. We took off from the small strip of concrete boarded by rainforest on one side and the beach just through a line of trees on the other. It was a short ride to San Jose, where we walked off the plane and across the tarmac to a very, very small gate area to wait for our next flight. We had a strange array of snacks while we waited, including a blueberry muffin and a pear yogurt beverage named “Likigurt.”
Our next plane, which was the same size as the first, was full. We flew to the tiny Tamarindo airport to drop off some of the passengers, and then continued on to Liberia. I spotted a really weird bug that looked like it had been covered in white spray paint, but I was feeling a little too rushed to get a picture. We were greeted by a new driver, Armando, with whom we spoke Spanish the entire ride to the resort. Well, Jesse spoke and I generally just listened. Jesse accidentally told Armando that he’d been to all 50 states, which Armando find very impressive.
We arrived at the Allegro Papagayo Hotel and checked in, receiving our prized golden bracelets that let everyone know we were on our honeymoon. The resort was all-inclusive in terms of food and alcohol, but we were promised some extra perks for the occasion. We tossed our bags in our room and set out to explore. We got excited to see a big iguana sunning itself on a bush, and then realized that the creatures dotted the whole place! We got a bite to eat at the snack bar and walked down to the black sand beach. We walked along the shore for a while, examining the thousands of pretty seashells and the occasional fish body.
Returning to our room, we decided to take a nap in air-conditioned comfort. We woke to realize that we’d completely missed lunch, so we went back to sleep. Those early mornings had caught up to us. We woke again in time for dinner and set out for “La Trattoria” – the hotel’s a la carte Italian restaurant. Reservations were required and a dress code was loudly announced – a dress code which we couldn’t abide by due to our limited clothing and shoe selection. Fortunately, another diner had his shirt unbuttoned practically down to his navel.
Thinking our day was nearing its close, we walked back up to our room, spotting a mama raccoon and several babies along the way. We washed some clothes with bar soap in the sink (a necessity with a 25 pound limit on luggage) and decided to take a quick trip to the hot tub and maybe play a short game of darts at the bar before retiring. Unfortunately, we found the hot tub closed by the time we got down to the pool area. And then there was only one dart in the dart board. The foosball table opened up, so we positioned ourselves there.
Less than three minutes later, I was approached by a member of the “Occidental Fun Club.” The young man directed me to repeat his words to Jesse.
Jesse. If you do not participate in tonight’s production. I will not sleep with you.
And so Jesse decided to participate in the night’s production. Then I got roped into participating as well – bikini top and all. What was the production? GREASE. We were directed to a dressing room along with three men, and told to choose button-up suit jackets. We were then herded backstage and told to choose instruments – Jesse got the bongo drums and I opted for a big cymbal. Our “director” told us to watch the stage for the big red car and once the song “Greased Lightning” began, we were to put on our jackets, grab our instruments and position ourselves just behind the curtain.
I wanted to quit. I wanted to go hide in our room till the next day, bailing out on the rest of the cast. Jesse didn’t act like that was an option so I stuck around. In the meantime, we met Will, a Costa Rican native who had spent many years in the U.S. and who had just returned to Costa Rica 11 months prior (read: preemptively running from the law). He convinced us to do shots of tequila to steel our nerves before our Costa Rican stage debuts. A Spanish-speaking man, Patricio, who looked like he was from Michigan, joined us. Then it was time; the car appeared and the familiar notes of “Greased Lightning” rang out. We grabbed our jackets (I was happy to cover my skin), our instruments, and the curtains opened and music began!
We were only to pretend we were playing our instruments. I nervously tapped my cymbal while Jesse bongoed away next to me. Patricio – previously quiet and shy – ran twirling across the stage, sticking his microphone in each of our faces to do singing “solos.” It was madness. The song flowed into another…this was taking fooooreeeever.
Once our part finally ended, we headed back over the bar with Will. Turns out he had worked at the same software sales company as Jesse had – only at a Costa Rica branch rather than in Beaverton, Oregon. The raccoon family came down and raided garbage cans in the bar area. I got close to a little baby who was too immersed in what he was doing to notice me.
The bar closed and we moved to the empty discothèque…which it seems they opened up just for us. The night ended significantly later than I had anticipated.
10.06.2009
September 23 - Tortuguero
I mis-set the alarm, but the sound of howler monkeys screaming nearby had woken us early anyway. We had breakfast and the group set out for a nature walk through the forest. We were provided rubber boots to wear, but neither Jesse nor I had packed any socks. (Instead, we each brought a pair of flip flops and a heavier duty pair of Teva-type hiking sandals.) I wrapped a dirty tank top around each foot before donning the boots, and Jesse went skin to rubber. He did wrap a bandana around each of his calves to prevent them from being rubbed raw.
We explored an area a short boat ride away, walking across balance beam logs and trekking through shallow muddy pits. We saw several poison dart frogs (the pretty red “blue jeans” variety), giant grasshoppers and spiders, a cousin of the Resplendent Quetzal (the mystical bird I most wanted to see – this was the closest I’d come – besides my quetzal magnet and keychain) called a trogan, and huge bullet ants. We learned how to survive in the rainforest by making palm roofs and eating hearts of palm.
Hot and sweaty as usual, we returned to the lodge for another swim in the tortuga pool before lunch. Ever on the go, we then got back on a boat to visit the small village of Tortuguero. This felt like the first time we were really being exposed to local culture, which we appreciated. The back side of the village bordered the Caribbean beach, where Gerardo gave a long explanation of how turtles come to shore to lay their eggs. When he had finally finished and we were turned loose for an hour, Jesse immediately stripped down to board shorts and jumped in the ocean!
We spent the rest of our free time exploring the village, walking down its dirt path “main drag.” We watched various small dogs roaming all over the town and stopped in the “super market” for Jesse’s much-desired rum and coke in a can. Many clouds had gathered and it rained for just a little while. We had a hard time believing this was the height of the rainy season.
Back in our cabin, we noticed men working on an electrical box and soon realized the electricity had been turned off. It was cool enough, so I took a short nap. I awoke to Jesse handing me one of those magical tropical fruit cocktails. He said, God told me to get this for you. Thank you God, I said, and the electricity promptly turned back on.
We went for yet another swim – during which Jesse broke all my pool caution rules by:
1. Tossing me in the air and letting me fall completely underwater.
2. Carrying me on his shoulders “chicken” style.
3. Dance lifting me “Patrick Swayze” style.
4. Laying on the bottom of the pool while I tried to walk on his back.
It was dark by the time we returned to our room and we decided to rest since there was still some time before dinner was to be served. We were resting on the double bed, staring at the ceiling, when –all of the sudden- the power went out. We were in utterly dark darkness. Rain had started to fall outside and howler monkeys sounded. It was amazing.
The rain continued to fall even harder and the lights popped back on at a couple minutes to seven. We loaded on raingear and walked over to the dining hall for dinner. More special treatment awaited us. One of the servers with whom we’d become familiar asked if we wanted a table on the porch in order to watch the rain. He led us to a nice candle lit table at the very corner of the covered porch.
We sloshed over to the bar for my nightly journal writing. Jesse had been told a live Calypso band was playing, so as it turned out, I was immediately interrupted from writing by a band member who handed both Jesse and I each a maraca. Holy smokes, I have no rhythm. In fact, I messed up whatever rhythm Jesse may have had alone. My biggest mistake came when the band members were asking whether it was anyone’s birthday…anyone’s anniversary. For some reason I opened my mouth and proudly declared that it was our Luna De Miel! We were instructed to stand and dance, just the two of us. The band began to play “Besame Mucho.”
Oh, I was so embarrassed. The song went on and on. The Spaniards cheered and gave us enthusiastic instructions in Spanish that I didn’t understand. I was happy when the song ended, but what a charming memory!
10.05.2009
September 22 - San Jose to Tortuguero
5:00am. We got ready quickly and went outside to wait for our transportation to Tortuguero. We didn’t know just what to expect, so I think we were a little surprised when a massive tour bus pulled up. We boarded and our tour guide, Alexis, did a poll of everyone on board – Does anyone here speak English? Jesse and I were the only two to raise our hands. We peered around at the other tourists and quickly realized every other person on the bus was from Spain. Will do you alright with Spanish, Alexis asked. Jesse quickly nodded. The Spanish onslaught began. I sat quietly in my seat and looked out the window.
We stopped for breakfast at a simple roadside restaurant, seemingly designed for large groups of travelers on giant tour busses. We had our first taste of gallo pinto (pronounced “guy-yo peen-toe”) – the traditional Costa Rican breakfast of white rice, black beans and seasonings. We also had fried eggs, fresh fruit, and hotdogs (yes, hotdogs). Hot, strong Costa Rican coffee rounded out the satisfying meal.
After quite a bit more driving, over mountains, through rainforest and past banana plantations, we reached the chaotic departure dock where a couple hundred tourists were weaving about, trying to collect their baggage. We bought a couple coconuts with their tops sheared off and straws stuck into the sweet, almost spicy water within. We boarded a small, flat-bottomed boat with a new guide, Fernando, and a bunch of new Spaniards. We set out over the Tortuguero Canals, headed for our rainforest lodge, immediately spotting several new varieties of birds on the shore and flying above the water.
We stopped for about 15 minutes at a river “rest stop” with a bar and small gift shop. We enjoyed our first Imperial beers – well loved in Costa Rica – and explored the area. We hopped back in the boat and sped to the docks of the hidden Evergreen Lodge. We deboated (a person can deplane, so why not deboat?), and were immediately handed a glorious cocktail containing, at the very least, papaya, banana, mango and carrot juices. We were assigned to cabin #21, up on stilts with a porch marked with two rocking chairs on either side of the door. Inside, a sizeable room with large “windows” covered only by screen and heavy curtains. One double bed, one twin bed. A fully equipped bathroom and small back porch.
We rushed off to a buffet lunch at the lodge dining hall, then back to our rooms to grab our cameras for the afternoon canal tour. We stopped at the entrance to Tortuguero National Forest so our guide, Gerardo, could pay the requisite fee to a park guard. While he was busy, some men on land called us up from the boat. I didn’t realize what was happening, but Jesse and I got off the boat along with everyone else and stood crowded around a tall bush next to a small, worn-out basketball court. What is it, I asked. A snake, said a nice Spain lady! I maneuvered around the rest of the group, using my height as an advantage to stick my head into the bush and get a great, macro shot of the amazing, bright yellow snake that was curled up on an inner limb of the plant.
Gerardo finally turned around and got a quizzical look on his face when he realized we had all deboated (again). We got back on the boat and entered the smaller canals of the National Forest. We saw an amazing array of wildlife, all pointed out by our highly observant and specially trained guides! There were various types of herons, basilisks (“Jesus lizards”), a caiman, an iguana, howler monkeys, spider monkeys, bats and a gar fish (holy teeth), not to mention a ton of additional types of birds – which we’d later try to identify in my handy waterproof Audubon Costa Rica bird pamphlet. At one point, our guide explained that the striking yellow snake we had seen back on land - the pretty one with the noticeable protruding "eyelashes" - was a Golden Eyelash snake...one of the most deadly snakes in the country. A warning before I climbed into its hiding spot would have been appreciated.
We had time for a swim in the lovely new tortuga-shaped swimming pool before dinner. Yes, that would be the dinner where I poured salt all over my freshly served spaghetti and marinara, thinking it was the (soon to be realized as very elusive) shaky parmesan cheese. I felt a lot better once Jesse and I were bestowed with a giant fruitball-studded pineapple filled with coconut dream cocktail. Oh man. The perks of being on honeymoon.
That night I initiated a tradition of settling down with Jesse at the little bar on the lodge grounds (housed under a simple pavilion) and writing down the day’s events. It was a relaxing end to a long day and we even managed to see two more types of animals before retiring – a gigantic blue land crab and a big ugly frog.
We stopped for breakfast at a simple roadside restaurant, seemingly designed for large groups of travelers on giant tour busses. We had our first taste of gallo pinto (pronounced “guy-yo peen-toe”) – the traditional Costa Rican breakfast of white rice, black beans and seasonings. We also had fried eggs, fresh fruit, and hotdogs (yes, hotdogs). Hot, strong Costa Rican coffee rounded out the satisfying meal.
After quite a bit more driving, over mountains, through rainforest and past banana plantations, we reached the chaotic departure dock where a couple hundred tourists were weaving about, trying to collect their baggage. We bought a couple coconuts with their tops sheared off and straws stuck into the sweet, almost spicy water within. We boarded a small, flat-bottomed boat with a new guide, Fernando, and a bunch of new Spaniards. We set out over the Tortuguero Canals, headed for our rainforest lodge, immediately spotting several new varieties of birds on the shore and flying above the water.
We stopped for about 15 minutes at a river “rest stop” with a bar and small gift shop. We enjoyed our first Imperial beers – well loved in Costa Rica – and explored the area. We hopped back in the boat and sped to the docks of the hidden Evergreen Lodge. We deboated (a person can deplane, so why not deboat?), and were immediately handed a glorious cocktail containing, at the very least, papaya, banana, mango and carrot juices. We were assigned to cabin #21, up on stilts with a porch marked with two rocking chairs on either side of the door. Inside, a sizeable room with large “windows” covered only by screen and heavy curtains. One double bed, one twin bed. A fully equipped bathroom and small back porch.
We rushed off to a buffet lunch at the lodge dining hall, then back to our rooms to grab our cameras for the afternoon canal tour. We stopped at the entrance to Tortuguero National Forest so our guide, Gerardo, could pay the requisite fee to a park guard. While he was busy, some men on land called us up from the boat. I didn’t realize what was happening, but Jesse and I got off the boat along with everyone else and stood crowded around a tall bush next to a small, worn-out basketball court. What is it, I asked. A snake, said a nice Spain lady! I maneuvered around the rest of the group, using my height as an advantage to stick my head into the bush and get a great, macro shot of the amazing, bright yellow snake that was curled up on an inner limb of the plant.
Gerardo finally turned around and got a quizzical look on his face when he realized we had all deboated (again). We got back on the boat and entered the smaller canals of the National Forest. We saw an amazing array of wildlife, all pointed out by our highly observant and specially trained guides! There were various types of herons, basilisks (“Jesus lizards”), a caiman, an iguana, howler monkeys, spider monkeys, bats and a gar fish (holy teeth), not to mention a ton of additional types of birds – which we’d later try to identify in my handy waterproof Audubon Costa Rica bird pamphlet. At one point, our guide explained that the striking yellow snake we had seen back on land - the pretty one with the noticeable protruding "eyelashes" - was a Golden Eyelash snake...one of the most deadly snakes in the country. A warning before I climbed into its hiding spot would have been appreciated.
We had time for a swim in the lovely new tortuga-shaped swimming pool before dinner. Yes, that would be the dinner where I poured salt all over my freshly served spaghetti and marinara, thinking it was the (soon to be realized as very elusive) shaky parmesan cheese. I felt a lot better once Jesse and I were bestowed with a giant fruitball-studded pineapple filled with coconut dream cocktail. Oh man. The perks of being on honeymoon.
That night I initiated a tradition of settling down with Jesse at the little bar on the lodge grounds (housed under a simple pavilion) and writing down the day’s events. It was a relaxing end to a long day and we even managed to see two more types of animals before retiring – a gigantic blue land crab and a big ugly frog.
10.02.2009
September 21 - San Jose
After a whirlwind wedding week (not to mention more than 14 months of planning before that), Jesse and I were finally aboard our flight from Dallas, Texas to San Jose, the capital of Costa Rica. We were delighted to learn we’d be getting lunch on the plane – which never seems to happen since the economy took a nosedive. As the flight attendants moved closer with their food carts, full of aromatic trays, we overheard the two options for lunch: chicken with mashed potatoes or lasagna. Oooh, lasagna sounds great, I said.
I took a moment to share with Jesse a story about the time I was returning from a trip to Italy and Greece and breakfast was being served on the plane. The choices were (a) delicious, sweet fruit crepe bonanza or (b) stale, tasteless ham scramble. I couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into option (a), but of course the last little package of deliciousness was given to the person ahead of me. I was stuck with artificially colored eggs.
I said, just watch, the same thing will happen again. Lo and behold, the last lasagna was distributed to a person in the row in front of us. The chicken wasn’t half bad though.
We landed in San Jose and spent a little while getting through Customs. I was crossing my fingers for the smiling, green-shirted lady at stand #2. Jesse, ahead of me in line, got to the front and went to the first open stand. Then (yes!) the light at stand #2 illuminated. Green Shirt didn’t smile at me once the whole time.
Our driver, Manuel, picked us and another honeymooning couple up at the airport and we headed toward our hotel. We couldn’t see too much of San Jose as we drove through since it was late, but we caught a glimpse of Asian construction workers in pink hardhats. Manuel explained that these men were Chinese workers, sent it by the Chinese government, to pay for a huge new Chinese-funded stadium in the city.
We reached the Grano de Oro, a sparkling, gorgeously renovated mansion, and were led to our room. We were both surprised at the hardwood floors, lush bedding and the multi-product soap dispenser in the shower. Jesse watched the news in Spanish and learned that the locals (Ticos) were outraged over the inappropriate, drunken behavior of the Chinese construction workers. We also made note of the sign language interpreter in the corner of the television screen during the broadcast.
We hurried over to the attached, partially open-air Grano de Oro restaurant to get dinner before it closed. I had read amazing reviews about the place, and since our meals were going to be all inclusive for the rest of the trip, we decided to splurge. It may have been the fanciest restaurant I’ve ever dined in. I ordered espresso pork shortribs, which turned out to be like a big cubed chunk of fatty, undercooked bacon. Not good.
My salad (very Oregon-esque with giant blackberries, gorgonzola and nuts) was tasty, and so were the strangely pureed potatoes I got on the side. Jesse liked his macadamia-nut crusted fish, so it was a win overall. The experience was topped off by our waiter, Walter, teaching us proper tipping customs and encouraging me to correctly pronounce the French name of our dessert – a weird mélange of different elements including avocado ice cream and hot watermelon.
We returned to our room and immediately headed for bed. The next morning would be the first of many early, early wake-up calls.
I took a moment to share with Jesse a story about the time I was returning from a trip to Italy and Greece and breakfast was being served on the plane. The choices were (a) delicious, sweet fruit crepe bonanza or (b) stale, tasteless ham scramble. I couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into option (a), but of course the last little package of deliciousness was given to the person ahead of me. I was stuck with artificially colored eggs.
I said, just watch, the same thing will happen again. Lo and behold, the last lasagna was distributed to a person in the row in front of us. The chicken wasn’t half bad though.
We landed in San Jose and spent a little while getting through Customs. I was crossing my fingers for the smiling, green-shirted lady at stand #2. Jesse, ahead of me in line, got to the front and went to the first open stand. Then (yes!) the light at stand #2 illuminated. Green Shirt didn’t smile at me once the whole time.
Our driver, Manuel, picked us and another honeymooning couple up at the airport and we headed toward our hotel. We couldn’t see too much of San Jose as we drove through since it was late, but we caught a glimpse of Asian construction workers in pink hardhats. Manuel explained that these men were Chinese workers, sent it by the Chinese government, to pay for a huge new Chinese-funded stadium in the city.
We reached the Grano de Oro, a sparkling, gorgeously renovated mansion, and were led to our room. We were both surprised at the hardwood floors, lush bedding and the multi-product soap dispenser in the shower. Jesse watched the news in Spanish and learned that the locals (Ticos) were outraged over the inappropriate, drunken behavior of the Chinese construction workers. We also made note of the sign language interpreter in the corner of the television screen during the broadcast.
We hurried over to the attached, partially open-air Grano de Oro restaurant to get dinner before it closed. I had read amazing reviews about the place, and since our meals were going to be all inclusive for the rest of the trip, we decided to splurge. It may have been the fanciest restaurant I’ve ever dined in. I ordered espresso pork shortribs, which turned out to be like a big cubed chunk of fatty, undercooked bacon. Not good.
My salad (very Oregon-esque with giant blackberries, gorgonzola and nuts) was tasty, and so were the strangely pureed potatoes I got on the side. Jesse liked his macadamia-nut crusted fish, so it was a win overall. The experience was topped off by our waiter, Walter, teaching us proper tipping customs and encouraging me to correctly pronounce the French name of our dessert – a weird mélange of different elements including avocado ice cream and hot watermelon.
We returned to our room and immediately headed for bed. The next morning would be the first of many early, early wake-up calls.
10.01.2009
pura vida!
And we have returned...from the green, sticky, sunburnt land of Costa Rica. We touched down in Portland Tuesday - a day late - greeted by grey rain and chilliness. I haven't managed to accomplish much recuperation yet after the honeymoon, but one of my priorities - a Flickr site with our honeymoon photos - is up and running!
Take a look.
More Costa Rica photos will be posted once we sort through the ones on Jesse's camera, and the wedding photos will follow close behind.
In the meantime, I'll be posting a series of blog entries outlining our entire trip. Stay tuned!
Take a look.
More Costa Rica photos will be posted once we sort through the ones on Jesse's camera, and the wedding photos will follow close behind.
In the meantime, I'll be posting a series of blog entries outlining our entire trip. Stay tuned!
9.15.2009
over and out
I'm taking a break from the tremendously daunting task of packing for a two week vacation to bid you all farewell. I am getting married! And then going to Costa Rica!
This is all hard to believe. I'm just about ready to go. Have the dress, stepdaughter's dress, wedding rings, Central America backpackers' backpacks, massively heavy car parts to deliver to my dad...I even remembered my lovely ribbon-and-bow rehearsal bouquet!
I look forward to sharing stories and photographs upon my return. We touch back down in Portland on Monday, September 28th and I have a full day of relaxation and blogging on Tuesday.
I want to deeply thank the many individuals who have shown enormous support and generosity as I've prepared for these coming weeks. Many people have shown wonderful kindness and enthusiasm and I am left feeling like the most fortunate girl in the world.
Thank you all and see you soon!
This is all hard to believe. I'm just about ready to go. Have the dress, stepdaughter's dress, wedding rings, Central America backpackers' backpacks, massively heavy car parts to deliver to my dad...I even remembered my lovely ribbon-and-bow rehearsal bouquet!
I look forward to sharing stories and photographs upon my return. We touch back down in Portland on Monday, September 28th and I have a full day of relaxation and blogging on Tuesday.
I want to deeply thank the many individuals who have shown enormous support and generosity as I've prepared for these coming weeks. Many people have shown wonderful kindness and enthusiasm and I am left feeling like the most fortunate girl in the world.
Thank you all and see you soon!
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