I was sick over the weekend. This means different things to different people. To Charity and Yoni, it meant cancelled dinner plans for Saturday. For Mercina, it meant an incoherent birthday call punctuated by my own special brand of cough—a braying-cough, so abrasive that passersby stare at me with a mix of disgust and terror if ever one escapes me whilst in public, and I honestly don’t blame them. For Premal, it meant one more patient on his roster. And for me, it meant three days of nose-blowing, mouth-breathing, tissue-sculpture building, bad TV-watching, and self-stalking on this here blog.
“But Liberty, what does that paragraph have to do with all
of these pictures where you look positively resplendent” you ask?
Well, first, “resplendent?” gosh. Thank you, you are too
sweet! But to answer your question, I realized, somewhat miraculously
considering my drug-induced haze, that I never posted pictures of our trip
HONEYMOON to Costa Rica. So, months-late, but memories still crisp, here is the
first installment of snaps from the absolutely perfect week Premal and I spent
in Costa Rica.
More pictures from our trip here!
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| So. Much. Coffee. |
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| SLOTH! |
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| oh, don't mind us, we're just standing AT THE MOUTH OF A VOLCANO! |
These pictures are all from our time in San Jose, the
capital of Costa Rica. We spent an afternoon kicking around the city, and then
on our second day we went on a fantastic tour where we saw a volcano, a coffee
plantation, a whole bunch of waterfalls, AND A SLOTH! But the very best part of
our stay in the capital city had to have been our accommodations. Premal found
a place on airbnb that had great ratings, and signed us up for four nights
there over the course of our trip. I will admit that I was skeptical, four
nights seemed like a big gamble to place on a perfect stranger, and backing out
of the arrangement would be complicated. But upon our arrival my dear husband was
sweetly vindicated. The home was idyllic, and our host, Darrylle, quickly felt like an
old friend.
Which, as chance would have it, is exactly what he was...
After two nights of staying up late, drinking good wine and basking in our shared world-views, Darrylle realized that he had heard some of my stories before. Twenty years ago, between moving from Southern California to Costa Rica, he spent six months in D.C. He was there to do some soul searching, and along his way he met an “utterly charming, incredibly wise, tiny woman with a big Hungarian accent.” His friend Annette is, of course, my sweet grandmother Mimo. They quickly hit it off, and he has many fond memories of similar lengthy conversations with Mimo as well as one of her famous tours of the US Capitol building.
It's always fun to find something that's been misplaced, but finding a lost friend is especially sweet.
