Costa Rica for only a night. We know there's much to see here, but our wallets (or just mine?) won't allow the tourist-inflated prices of this country. Maybe later, when I become a millionaire.
At the TICA Bus station in San Jose, we encounter a thoughtful baggage keeper who reminds me of a friend in Maui. They look like twins and have the same sort of softness radiating through their pores. After checking-in, I step outside of the station building to grab us some lunch. Baggage guy notices me, and gives me directions to the nearest fast food. Tells me to say "hi," to the lady working there and to mention his name, Juan.
The lady working the pick-up counter is bored in her stall, is reading the news, and pays no particular interest towards my arrival.
But after hearing "Juan," her eyes twinkle, and chats with me about her family that lives in Norwalk, CA. I ask her what Juan likes to drink, and she tells me to get him a Coke. I deliver it on the way back and he thanks me with the sweetest smile.
hm, I wonder what's up between the two...
friends? a mutual crush? lovers?
Other than the Panamanian border being a stupid hassle to get through, the day is spent on the bus, next to my Dad who's learned how to sleep his way through the rides. I unfortunately have not yet mastered the skill, so am left reading, writing, reading, and blankly looking out at the silhouetted mountains against the starlit sky.
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