Yesterday was a wonderful day. Jeri, her very good friend Monica and I were allowed to use Jeri’s friend Douglas’ car and we drove to the Pacific Coast and spent the day on a very beautiful beach, Playa Herradura, which is near Jaco.
Of course, in the tropical way, things did not occur according to the plan, which was to hit the road at 10. No one woke up when they expected to. No matter, the beach was not going anywhere. We got a call near the time we were thinking to leave to let us know our driver was coming soon. We waited, reading some good books. Another call. The car would not start, they needed a jump start. A taxi was called from town to provide the necessary juice, which took some time.
That accomplished, she drove to the gasolinera where the lack of water in the battery explained the dearth of power available for ignition. That remedied, she realized she had forgotten her phone and had to go back home to retrieve it.
Finally she arrived here, full of apologies, and we went off down the mountain to the beach. The drive was great! We made a wrong turn at Orotina, and had a little scenic side trip, but eventually we found the right way and arrived at the beach, which was still there, just as we suspected!
We found ourselves hungry, and found a lovely little beach-side soda where we consumed a delicious lunch of steamed vegetables, rice and slightly grilled fresh tuna, accompanied by the ubiquitous Imperial cerveza. Our driver, very responsibly, drank only ginger ale. Satisfied, we walked across the little street and found a place to spread our towels and enjoy the ocean.
Once again I was reminded of how important it is to not look too closely at the great beauty that surrounds me, for the close up view of the very wonderful coastline was marred by much trash scattered hither and yon. I just don’t understand why humans everywhere feel it is just fine and dandy to throw their litter all over the landscape. I never will.
After enjoying a swim with my two companions, I left them to sun themselves and walked about a mile down the beach to a spot where a lava reef broke the sandy expanse. Since I was barefoot, I did not want to clamber over the wave polished rocks to the next small expanse of sand. Instead, I beach combed my way back to my two companions, slowly.
When I arrived back at the towels, my two friends dutifully admired my handful of colored rocks and broken shells. I could tell they were humoring my childish enthusiasm for the lovely things the ocean had given me that day, but not laughing at me. It was fine.
It was such a satisfying day, plenty of sun for a while until the afternoon’s rainy season clouds mitigated the heat somewhat. We lay on the beach, drinking water and talking. I don’t know when I have laughed so much: Monica has led a very full life during her 40 or so years, and the stories she shared were told with wry wisdom and satirical humor.
Her experience driving her BMW in Holland and Germany and over the Alps was quite evident as she expertly drove us back over the mountain to Atenas on the old road, past fincas and barrios and little towns, over streams full of rain, through rain forest decorated with bromeliads and ferns, the roadside ditches full of cosmos and impatiens. Back at Calle Mimi, Douglas made us wonderful hamburgers for dinner and then gave us a ride home before he went off to his job managing a local bar/restaurant.
An altogether satisfying and wonderful day.
Today, I clean the bamboo shades and wash windows here in preparation for our departure, while Jeri goes to town to have lunch with a friend. She really can’t be here while I do this, her respiratory system would NOT tolerate the huge dust that will rise during this chore. I only hope that the dust has settled before she gets home.
There are some things we obsessive/compulsives are good for!
Beach combing is my favourist occupation … dusting isn’t.
I don’t like dusting either, but sometimes it must be done. And it is done now. Many very unhappy spiders running around displaced, less dust on the blinds and the windows are more or less clean. It is good, especially since it is done!
Beachcombing, on the other hand, is an occupation I get to engage in far too seldom, since I live in the middle of the continent. But that too may change in the future. I am more and more hoping so.
You would leave your beautiful Havens?
Yes, I could. There are always other places to make gardens in…. This is not the first one I have created in my life, just the largest and most long term.
I am not the only person in this life with me; there are other considerations than this place. Both of us long to be near salt water again, the ocean is an important aspect of our lives that has been missing for far too long.
I know it sounds odd, but I have been thinking about leaving the place we live for a long time. Even though I don’t stop creating it and tending it, this garden is just one in a long series of gardens. No matter where I go, there will be Havens. I know this.
Generally known as “Island Time”, it seems to take me a couple days to abandon my ‘clock nazi’ ways when i’m on holiday… it’s good for us. very glad to hear you had a good day, after all that has been happening…
safe travels…
Only two more days left on this roller coaster. Then the cart comes to a landing and life goes on another path.
Glad to read that you enjoyed such a beautiful day while you and Jeri must still be feeling much sadness
Thank you. The ironies of life: that into every tragedy a little joy must come to leaven our lives lest we go mad. It was a good day. There will be more.