When we went, Manual Antonio did not look like the beach depicted, b/c it was raining. The sky and the water looked gray and the tide was a touch rough.
We were there for two nights, hiking through the monkey-packed park and swimming only for like two hours on the beach. Husband and I took turns, so one of us could watch our stuff. He likes to go very far out. Not me. I get too nervous. Sure, I have the technique where you dive under the wave so you don’t get dragged to shore in a tumble (must have been Dad who taught me that, because Mom is a mess when it comes to swimming). Husband insisted I leave my glasses with him. I’d dive and periodically wave at him. I stayed out for what I hoped was a respectable amount of time, because in the moment, I really had no desire to be in the ocean. The waves looked unpredictable. I was second-guessing myself as to when to dive, and thus had many a salt-water-nose (awesome). After my final dive, I waved to him again and walked quickly towards him — and that’s when I realized I had been waving and walking towards the wrong man. Husband tried to run interference and screamed my name to no avail, but my eye sight is bad enough that I had to be pretty close to realize my mistake.
Dude, I was so embarrassed. This random Costa Rican man was like, What the hell is this woman harassing me for?
Awesome. Just awesome. I could totally see myself doing that. Although I spent 3 months in Costa Rica, I never went to Manuel Antonio. But did you know that’s Will’s middle name(s)? Also, his grandfather’s name. We should go.
three months! how did that happen? when did that happen? that sounds like a very human period of time to be away.