The Enforcer

To relax fully is a true art; it can be learned, for those to whom it does not come naturally; nevertheless, it is a continual study and the lessons can easily be forgotten or presumed no longer necessary.

I am one of those people who is not very good at relaxing. Not that I am not good at having fun; in fact, the whole having-fun business is a predominant reason as to why I need to relax better. I am convinced of both nature and nurture’s part in this, seeing my parents in action as I have for 28 years or so. Still, no blame attached; in this respect, I am my health & sanity’s worst enemy.

Therefore, TOH and I booked a holiday with the express intention of relaxing and having a genuine break, much to the chagrin of F&F (friends and family) who were mildly offended that we breezed into town last week and gave them a “tonight or else” ultimatum to spend a few hours in our company. It would be worth it, we reckoned, to peeve a few of the esteemed and beloved F&F if a break meant that we would not get quite so devastatingly exhausted this semester.

Nonetheless, we gave ourselves a torturous journey here (eight hours on plane London to JFK; eight hours layover in JFK; five hours to Mexico City then another nine hours layover). In fact, we managed to fit in a trip to the Zócalo, the main plaza in Mexico City/D.F. while we were there and saw quite possibly the best flag-raising ceremony ever (as well as some Aztec ruins, the usual stuff slapbang in the middle of a giant conurbation). So, although we tried to convince ourselves that it wasn’t really the start of the holiday, we were already deviating from the plan of DOING NOTHING.

However, luckily, fate stepped in. I come from a family of not just an inability to take things easy and relax when necessary, but also weak backs, also on both maternal & paternal sides, and that genetic heritage came to the fore within 24 hours of arriving. On a morning exploratory stroll, before you could say “ooh, me lumbago!” I had had, for want of a better word, a spasm.

Some may not consider this a good thing, but in fact, as I was able to manoeuvre myself about a bit, it has been (at time of writing this, Tuesday evening) a bit of a blessing in disguise. The pain has not been fun, ‘tis true, but in fact it has forced us to do what we planned to do: read a lot, swim (in the pool, not sea, but still) and sleep and catch a few rays (under SPF 30 protection, obviously). Essentially, very little. While it has been annoying to not be able to even try out surfing as of yet – and it may remain ruled out for me for the rest of the break – it feels genuinely as if there has been a mental breakthrough. Early doors, obviously, but it has been bloody great thus far. This relaxing thing is something I plan to work on, particularly if it involves sun, sea and sand – which I am sure it ought to, at any rate.

Written Tuesday, August 22nd, 2007

Salty Air

I have travelled around a bit now, Pacific, Caribbean coasts, seen mountains, rainforests, volcanoes, cloudforests... it's good here. Very, very beautiful. But in Puerto Viejo I finally found a place that was a nice small town - geared up for the tourists but also for the locals - it's not just a black hole for your cash to disappear but somewhere where people actually live as well as providing gringos with beer. It was good. Particularly the crab in the bar - that was amazing, it was easily as big as my hand - it just scuttled around. And the incredible sunset on Sunday night that I managed to enjoy, rather than trying to take a million photos of something that really truly resembled a postcard, not reality. It was wonderful. And it was normal to see people who aren't european in origin - a change for Costa Rica.

I'm going to post a few photos every day, rather than all in one, but will be doing the snapfish thing if you want to see them that way...


This is the house that belongs to Auxi's family. It was airy, light, and FREEEEEEEE!


Apparently every time they go they normally paint a bit of the house, but this weekend it wasn't possible - the ferreteria was shut (and that means a hardware shop, not a place that sells ferrets) so instead there was lots of cardplaying and eating.


Need I say more?


This was Playa Cocles, about 5km outside Puerto Viejo, on Monday when it was glorious weather. We bathed, in sun and sea, and I got bitten to pieces.


More beautiful sea and sand at Cocles.

More bragging via the medium of photo to come tomorrow. Yay!

Great Expectations

Growing up where I did, the Caribbean always held a fascination for me. The gentle (at first, at least) debates between schoolmates as to which was the better island, Barbados or Jamaica. The cricket - playing on the beach, actively and noisily enjoying the Tests. So to finally go was a thing of great trepidation - would it be as wonderful as I'd hoped?

The answer is yes it was, dear readers, yes it was.

I paid though. I have been bitten to pieces by the insects. By, note, the TROPICAL and CARIBBEAN insects.

La Viajera Sola

A bird I know was musing on the topic of living alone and, at the time of reading it, I thought I could say that I had lived alone, and I liked it. I hadn't realised then that I really haven't lived alone, and that this weekend was genuinely the first time for me to get out in the world and do something truly alone.

When I was ten, Mrs. Barker gave us a task: Come up with adjectives that describe you, starting with the same letter as your first name. I can't recall what I had said about myself, but Mrs B. suggested the word garrulous. That was the first time I remember hearing that word, and yet, it fits perfectly - or, at least, the Chambers definition does. A tendency to drone on about trivia. I'm not - that is, I really, truly hope not - the kind of person who shares just too much information about herself on first meeting someone. But I can talk for hours about absolutely nothing to people I barely know. I like to think it's a gift. I wanted to be more mysterious, a loner, but I can't hold myself back.

Anyway, this weekend, although I had distractions, I was alone. It was strange. I do like my solitude, to pad around on my own, but I like to have control of that, for it to be a conscious exercise of separation from people that I can reverse at the moment of my choosing. This weekend I didn't have that power, I was forced to cede it to others who might decide to talk to me, to chance meetings. It was hard. On the other hand, probably good for me.

And having said I don't give up too much information, there it all is. And this is nowhere near as personal as the post I lost half an hour ago.

Regardless, please see below for photos of my meal at Mar y Sombra, where I sat by the beach, looked out, and ate fresh fish, and possibly the worst french fries (they don't deserve the word chips, before the Brits protest at my Americanization) I have ever had. Maybe I am developing some self-control, as I barely ate 1/4 of them. And dear reader, please note how blue being sunburnt makes my eyes.

El Mirador

This is the lookout point that I sweated to get to, and was, as you can see, fully worth it. Sadly, I didn't take any photos of the multiple mapaches that circled us, just wandering around, but they rocked. However, I thought it was a bit much to take photos given that I'd seen one, bigger, in Central Park the week before I left. However, I did take a photo of me. Priorities, priorities. Check out those pink shoulders!

Godzilla - Part II

The best bit of my weekend, bar none - not even the hazelnut ice cream at Escalófrio, which is my favourite flavour in the whole world and is far too rare - was the last piece of wildlife I saw before leaving the park. A big fat German man was bitching (in English) about having not seen even one monkey (I had already encountered the Capuchin and heard the extraordinary screeching of the Howler Monkey - genuinely amazing, I thought it was some kind of pig in pain, but maybe that's because I saw Deliverance recently). I was tramping off, more trying to sweat out the patacones than concentrate on the wildlife, as I'd been up since five and was worried about getting back in time to shower and checkout before midday. So stomping about, I got to the beach and tripped over a log and then stopped dead having almost tripped over... well, see for yourself.


He was beautiful and didn't even move a muscle at my thundering approach. Just standing there, sunning himself on the beach. I always think lizards are male - don't ask me why. Glorious. I was so, so, so happy. Seriously worth the burn and the insect bites for that moment. Just look at him. Fabulous.