People have asked me a lot about Costa Rica, as if I were an expert. One thing that often disturbs me is that I blend in. Everywhere. I mean, in spy novels that would sound cool, but in real life it kinda freaks me out. I get asked directions to places, nearly everywhere I've been. Often I give directions to people who've been there much longer than myself. I get asked where stuff is in stores. WTF. Do I have a nametag on? But often I'm merely aware of surroundings, and quick to be the one to jump someone's battery, change a tire, or walk an old lady across the street. Thanks Boy Scouts....
The first time to Costa Rica I blended in nicely, except for the flight. See, I'd driven to Vancouver from Seattle, after a rough season on the Bering. I walked by a travel agent and saw the massively discounted flight. The posters had me drooling. So I bought a ticket, which was a couple hundred bucks cheaper than from Seattle. The Canadian customs gave me the third degree coming and going. Seems at the time (I knew about it), you could be making 20% laundering money down there. I just wanted to get laid, catch some rays, relax. No one could understand this: "So, let me get this straight... you live in Miami, but work in Alaska. You are jumping across the border to fly round trip to Costa Rica for a month then drive back to Seattle before going home. Sounds fishy to me...." "Yeah well, as I said dude, I'm a commercial fisherman...." "But why not leave from the States? Lots of people try hide their comings and goings by taking advantage of us..." "Look, I'm just spending tourist dollars here, and happened on a good deal is all, check it out. I saved big bucks."
This didn't seem to sway the agent. "What I really think is weird is that you live in Miami but work in Alaska..." Well, one smartass comment deserved another, so "Yeah, dude. You got to get up PRETty early in the morning to make it to work..." "Come this way sir...."
FUCK.
So I could really start writing a book here; it's just bursting at the seams, but I'll just add before closing that I returned, to good friends, and the adventures I'll forever cherish, six more times.
I plan to go back someday....
The first time to Costa Rica I blended in nicely, except for the flight. See, I'd driven to Vancouver from Seattle, after a rough season on the Bering. I walked by a travel agent and saw the massively discounted flight. The posters had me drooling. So I bought a ticket, which was a couple hundred bucks cheaper than from Seattle. The Canadian customs gave me the third degree coming and going. Seems at the time (I knew about it), you could be making 20% laundering money down there. I just wanted to get laid, catch some rays, relax. No one could understand this: "So, let me get this straight... you live in Miami, but work in Alaska. You are jumping across the border to fly round trip to Costa Rica for a month then drive back to Seattle before going home. Sounds fishy to me...." "Yeah well, as I said dude, I'm a commercial fisherman...." "But why not leave from the States? Lots of people try hide their comings and goings by taking advantage of us..." "Look, I'm just spending tourist dollars here, and happened on a good deal is all, check it out. I saved big bucks."
This didn't seem to sway the agent. "What I really think is weird is that you live in Miami but work in Alaska..." Well, one smartass comment deserved another, so "Yeah, dude. You got to get up PRETty early in the morning to make it to work..." "Come this way sir...."
FUCK.
So I could really start writing a book here; it's just bursting at the seams, but I'll just add before closing that I returned, to good friends, and the adventures I'll forever cherish, six more times.
I plan to go back someday....
figmentation:
yea.. that is one hellva commute