Patrica

For much better or worse, man has tamed Mother Nature in numerous nations. My common impression is this isnt the case in Costa Rica.

San Jose to Carrillo

Roughly ten of us had decided to head to Costa Rica for a week to remain at a close friends spot just outdoors the beach town of Carrillo on the west coast. We flew into San Jose and had been supposed to be met by a rental firm representative that had two new VW vans for us.

As frequently occurs in such circumstances, we werent met by anybody a lot significantly less a individual with vans. Calls had been created but not answered. Lunch was had. Calls were made once again and lastly answered. Following a bit of intense conversation, we have been told the vans would be at the airport in 15 minutes. Roughly two hours later, two VW vans apparently stolen from Woodstock rolled into parking lot. The trip had certainly started on a sour note, but we decided to cut our losses and take the vans.

success

As we rolled out of San Jose, it was beginning to get dark. Unaware that a new highway had been opened, we followed the old route which wound through the mountains and added two hours to the trip. Two hours that would haunt us for days.

As the hours passed, we laughed away the time reliving the previous. I was sitting in the back of the van with Stuart, a nurse in San Diego, and Picasso, a graphic designer for surf clothing companies. We have been all in shorts and flip flops, which was suitable for the heat and humidity. How I wished I had worn pants and boots.

As we drove along, we happened to come upon a little village. Little cafes and shops passed us as we drove down the road. So did street lights. Vibrant street lights. Street lights that lit up the inside of the van.

And the factors in it.

Cockroaches. Huge cockroaches. They had been climbing on the walls of the van and across the floors. A couple of even took off and flew from one particular wall to the other.

This is the portion in the movie where the males, Picasso and I, take action to safeguard our female companion, Stuart. Of course, who believes what they see in the movies? In our case, Picasso screamed like a little girl and started stomping on the floor and kicking the walls. I, in turn, did the ultimate crunch, which is to say I whipped my legs off the ground with such speed as to make a drill sergeant weep with joy. I then jumped off the bench just to make confident there werent any of the little buggers in my shorts. Stuart, on the other hand, just laughed at us.

Our driver whipped more than to the side of the road to uncover out what the heck was going on. The other van pulled more than as nicely and found they had a cockroach problem as nicely. We had been apparently driving the hive around the nation.

Following acquiring a little liquid courage at a single of the cafes in the village, we came up with a answer for keeping the creepy crawlies at bay. Far more liquid courage, drivers excepted. Much far more.

New bravery in hand, we reclaimed the vans and hauled it to Carrillo as fast as attainable. Picasso danced the cockroach crunch all through the remainder of the trip, which produced for a messy van and the want for new flip flops. I hoped I was imagining things crawling on my legs. Stuart just kept laughing.

Nature is stunning, except when it aint!