Another day in paradise. January 11, 2012

               Yesterday I arrived home after a 5 hour day walking to and from and on the  beach to find I had no electricity in my two hundred dollar a month apartment in Quepos. I called the manager,  who was not available.  Then I called  Will, who, although he is in San Jose, acted, as always,  as my knight in shining armor. Will called and spoke, firmly I'm guessing,  with someone. I imagine he spoke in his, 'I am a prince and am being polite but you need to do my bidding' voice.
            I have no idea why, or how, but the upshot was that the manager picked me up at my apartment and I stayed last night at the hotel associated with the apartments--same owner. Free. Compared to my apartment in Quepos it was night and day, let me tell you. 
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               Here, I am treated like a queen, god knows why. I am given the small apartment adjoining and opening onto the salon/dining room/reception area--all open air. It is across from Anita's hotel, Coco Beach, where I lived when I first came here to CR. The apartment here is air conditioned. There is an overhead fan also.  I have no idea how much it would cost if I had to pay, but the other rooms go for 105. US. There are 3 beds, clean, dry, firm, comfy. A queen, a double, and a bunk above the double that is a twin. There is also a small kitchen area, with supplies, which I have no intention of using. I must admit I enjoyed the air conditioning, but turned it off in the middle of the night. This is the place I will recommend to B & D if they come here again.

               There is a chef in the dining room who gives me free espresso and hovers eagerly.  Of course, I assume he loves me. ;>) This is a good thing, I love having people to talk to and ask questions of. I love hearing and observing the activity around me. It is amazing how arrogant some north Americans sound. There is a grossly obese man who struts around the reception area wearing only boxer shorts. He appears to feel beautiful and desirable. au contraire.

My hands, however are shaking from so much espresso.
               Another great thing about ticos, the guys exude sensuality; they like women, all women, and flirt relentlessly. Their eyes are warm and smiling and they seem unselfconscious. Of course, this is a generalization, but it has been my experience, mostly.

               I sit here in the salon writing and feel all Hemingway-ish, but female and happier and without the shotguns and spears and constant death wish. And without the talent, obviously.

                From the back of the hotel, past the pool, there is a path to the beach. A little way from the end of the path, where it reaches the beach, is a beachfront outdoor restaurant from which people watch the sunset.
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                  I sat there last night thinking how fortunate I am. There was a full moon and the surf pounded soporifically on the shore. It is the only time I can be on the beach  alone at night. It too far and too dark, and, they say, too dangerous, to go there alone  from Quepos.  I enjoyed it immensely, mosquito bites notwithstanding.  

              Thanks to Will, and to my travels and experiences  ;>) I can understand enough of the Spanish spoken around me to use it in my writing.

               If I were rich, I admit it, I would live here for a while. Sort of Dorothy Parkerish .
“If wishes were horses...”