Here is a great story from this month's Howler for those of you missed it:
http://visittamarindo.com/thehowler/index.html
You're Never Too Old for Costa Rica
Two platinum blonds sat at the bar as I arrived, so naturally I started a conversation with them. “We’re celebrating our last night in Costa Rica,” said Fabiola. “We’ve been here sixteen days, and are leaving for California tomorrow.”
“Where in California?” I asked.
“Mid-state, just north of Santa Barbara. We’re surrounded by wine country, and we both love wine. She drinks only white, but I like red wine,” said Kay, helping herself nonetheless to a swig from her friend’s glass.
“How have you enjoyed your vacation?” I inquired.
“We’ve had a great time, and traveled all over the country, both coast, north to south. We saw some wonderful things and did everything we could,” replied Kay, the younger, but we had a few problems too.
On our first day we flew from San José to Drake’s Bay down south, but Fabiola was attacked by a jagged ashtray on the plane and had to have her arm stitched up. (Why, we wondered, do they have ashtrays on a completely non-smoking airline?) Anyway, that didn’t stop us snorkeling in the beautiful clear waters down there. Then we took a ride on the treetop canopy tour. You wear a harness, to which they clip a rope, and you slide down the rope to a tree at the far end; then you rappel down the tree. It’s almost like bungee jumping.”
“That sounds like a strenuous trip,” said I, wondering at these two energetic ladies.
“Well,” said Kay, “the hardest part was climbing up to the canopy in the first place. You actually climb up the inside of a tree. Many years ago, a climbing fig wrapped itself around a large tree, totally covering it. The tree died and, over the years, rotted away inside the fig tendrils. Now, all that’s left is the hollow of the dead tree, and you climb up inside it. The guide follows behind, giving you a push up if you slow down.”
“Is this your first trip to Costa Rica?” I asked.
“Yes, we try to do a different destination each year. Last year we went to Sacandinavia-Finland, the Artic Circle, a side trip to Russia, Saint Petersburg- because we wanted a ‘clean’ vacations for a change. The years before that we had only been to third world countries, and we needed a change. But we rate Costa Rica as a ‘clean’ vacation.”
“Anyway, it’s been nice chatting with you,” said Kay, “but we have to get an early night. We have a busy day’s traveling tomorrow, and I’m looking forward to seeing my gentleman friend back home.”
I asked if they would return to Costa Rica. “Probably not, at least for a while. We like to do something different each year. There’s far too much left to see and not enough time. When you get to our age, you have to make the most of your time.”
I had been wondering about their ages, but a gentleman doesn’t ask. However, as they had broached the subject, I inquired further. “Just how old are you?”
As ladies often will, they lied about their ages. “I’m eighty-six,” said Kay proudly.
“I’m older than she is,” boasted Fabiola, “I’m ninety.”
“No, she’s not,” disputed Kay, “her birthday isn’t until December. But I’ll be eighty-six in November.”
I marveled at their enthusiasm and energy, at an age when most of their peers, if alive, are vegetating in institutions, awaiting the visit of the Grim Reaper.
“Well” said Fabiola, “old age can only catch up if you stop moving”
You are never too old for Costa Rica!
