Monday, February 13.
It was a day I NEVER thought would arrive …
Or night, as it turned out.
After having our flight delayed twice, (roughly a week apart, but STILL), being called “sir” twice (once while boarding, and DEFINITELY once while being served dinner – seriously?), and an almost five-hour flight, our charter plane finally makes it to Daniel Ouduber International Airport in balmy Liberia, Costa Rica.
That’s right. My friends Jenn, Zoe and I are spending the next week in beautiful Costa Rica, playground for the young, the young-at-heart, the adventurous and sun-loving (or sun-starved, depending on your perspective).
We had hoped to catch the day’s remaining minutes of sunshine.
But since our flight left at 3 p.m. instead of 2 p.m., we have to make do with the yellowish, glaring floodlights shining down from the airport terminal. Anything not lit up by the airport is swathed in absolute darkness.
We make it off the plane, walk past the rows of grumpy passengers sitting on the other side of the glass (waiting for our plane to arrive so they can leave), grab our bags, and go to meet a representative with the car rental agency, who take us to a waiting spot for our shuttle.
We’re whisked to the Alamo down the street, where we find out – eventually – that our car isn’t ready yet.
So we’re shuttled to our hotel for the evening – A Hilton across from the airport – until we can pick up our vehicle in the morning.
I’m secretly glad we’re not setting out until early the next morning – our hotel (and especially our hotel room) is NICE. These beds (and even the cot) will likely be the best – and the firmest – we’ll see for at least 7 days.
We do a little wandering around – dropping in at the hotel convenience shop, out to the pool, where we lounge on chaises for a few minutes – before taking the futuristic-looking elevator up to our rooms for the evening.
Time to sleep while we can. Next stop: the town of La Fortuna, and the famous Arenal volcano!