Chapter 3; pages 46-48

After sitting around and drinking for a few hours I decided to take a walk down the road to a grocery mart that we passed in the night to see if I could get a couple of postcards. Manuel Antonio is a hot place of about 85 degrees which is perfect climate for the howler monkeys and iguanas that were up swinging and hanging out in the trees, respectively. Meanwhile I was sweating in the heat and humidity on my walk down the road of Manual Antonio that morning. I purchased the postcards at the grocery mart and asked the clerk jokingly if there were any postal boxes out here in the middle of nowhere. To my surprise the clerk gave me directions about a couple hundred meters away where there in the middle of the jungle sat a weather beaten wooden postal box.

Upon returning back to the hotel Tom and I packed up our beach gear and headed on down to the ocean. It was a downhill walk of about a mile and there was fun to be had. I wanted to check out the wild animal park, catch some rays, and play in the warm pacific blue ocean. Meanwhile, DD took off in a cab to Quepos where she purchased some sun block-4 and more Imperial Beer. Now Tom and DD had been in Costa Rica for some time and this was not their first trip to Manuel Antonio. Both of their skin tones are darker than mine and sunblock-4 is not quite enough they say for me. I have no fear I have gotten sun burns before and none of them really hurt but then again I was never as close as 500 miles from the equator in September when the sun was extremely intense.

We spent hours on the beach, laying out in the sun, drinking, and my favorite beach time recreation of body surfing. I love the feel of heading out about a two hundred yards as the waters descended only a couple of degrees to the point where I could barely see the shore while on my tip toes at about 6 feet of water and jumping up and down with each wave waiting to catch a big one. And I would do this for hours in the warmth of the Central American Pacific waters catching wave after wave, having a great time in the surf without a care in the world. I find peace at these moments and that is one of the reasons I moved the extra mile inland to live right on the beach when I returned to Redondo Beach, California.

The beaches of Costa Rica are beautiful. The jungle comes right up to the ocean and you can see the howler monkeys staying cool in the mid day shade while out in the surf. The sand is very flat, not fluffy probably from the steady rains that come every night. A few thatched roofed huts line the beach along with some outdoor beach bars, souvenir vendors, and restaurants constructed out of basic materials that would consist of a few 2x4’s, some plywood, and thatched roofs. A far reach from the metropolitan beach fronts along the California coastline that I am accustomed to with million dollar homes, huge harbors full of large yachts, and restaurants with strict building codes. It hit me while in the surf that I was in a relaxed world that was far from my modest upbringing.

We spent hours on the beach and a few more hours sitting at a seaside café on plastic chairs while smoking some wacky tobacco, gulping beers, having a few laughs and playing with a stray lost puppy. We got our fill of fun before deciding to head back up the hill for dinner. The walk up the hill was not nearly as pleasant as the walk down to the beach. The upgrade of the hill slope to the hotels is brutal.
We had a nice early dinner with delicious fresh seafood and plenty of alcohol amongst the howler monkeys and iguanas overlooking the jungle which was considerably more scenic than the night before in Quepos. Unfortunately the nightlife in Manuel Antonio wasn’t quite heated up during the rainy season of September. So the night concluded back at the hotel on the balcony much like the way it started just relaxing in the moment. After the intensity in the BOS sales office it was enjoyable to catch a little bit of peace and serenity in the jungle while indulging in alcohol and smoke.

The next day we would return to San Jose. En route to the bus stop that morning we stopped off in Quepos for breakfast. We all had our dosage of beach as we were all burnt out and a little food and drink was just what the doctor ordered before jumping back on the bus. We ate that morning in a seaside café in Quepos. The food in Quepos never disappoints me and the bathrooms certainly humored me. In order to save on plumbing costs neither bathroom has a sink to wash your hands but there is a communal sink on the exterior between the men’s and women’s bathrooms. Also the doors to enter into the bathrooms I believe were constructed by African pygmies. Very short people would have no problems with these low riding doors as even DD had to duck her head to get into the bathroom and at 6’4” in height I had to do a forced limbo.

That was the typical trip for the salesman at BOS. You didn’t make enough money to buy an air ticket and you could never get more than one day off a week so it was out after work, have a great night and a full day of fun, sun, and surf followed up by another great night surrounded by as much wicked indulgences as humanly possible before heading back to the big city of San Jose for the daily grind of taking calls from anxious gamblers.

By the time I got back I started to notice the glowing red of my skin. I was burnt real good. I never understood how strong the sun was till the next day in the office. I sat around the office in sheer pain while the cleaning ladies were all gathered around me a couple of times per day vacuuming up the sheets of dead burnt skin that was shedding right off my body. Luckily only two guys in the office were big enough to mess with my burn, and George had some pity for my condition but Tom was a different story. As much of a prankster as Tom was the sad truth was he was often too drunk even in the office to realize he was slapping me on the back or placing his hand or arm around my shoulder like a good buddy. Tom was a great buddy but a third degree sun burn is no time to have your back slapping buddy around even with the most neighborly of intentions.