The Wind Down

No more rushing from place to place. We just chill with Jason's friends, Nick and Matt. The condo is awesome. We spend our time reading, swimming in the pool, lounging. Occasionally we taxi into Jaco for a change of pace.

But, within a day or so I start to get the itch to get moving. Even when Jan was alive our family could never do the "Lounge Vacation by the Shore" thing. Always had to be on the go.

On the third day I talked the guys into going somewhere. Anywhere. At 7:30 I dragged them out of bed. We rented a Kia SUV and headed out. Destination: Parque Manuel Antonio.

Along the way we drive detour off the main highway, seven kilometers up a rutted road to a Jungle Canopy place. The kind of deal where you can walk on bridges erected among the tree tops. Mick and I had done this last year. Great views of flora and fauna.

The parking area is empty, our first clue something was amiss. The boss-man gives us a bunch of attitude.

"Do you have reservations?" (How would one learn this was necessary?)
"We are closed today" (Again...)
"But we are having some VIPs this afternoon if you want to stay. Sixty-five dollars per person, you can go along. It includes lunch." (A blatant rip-ff, ala The Kramer Reality Tour on Seinfeld. I couldn't get out of there fast enough.)

We were back on the highway in minutes. There were some pretty ratty bridges to cross along the way. Scary.

Parque Manuel Antonio was advertised as a jungle setting complete with monkeys, sloths, etc. Mainly it was a tourist beach. We were immediately overrun by "guides" willing to point out said animals. No dice.


The place was beautiful. We hiked the trails, our last hike of the trip. The culmination was to this cliff overlooking the blue Pacifico.

On the way to the beach we passed a restaurant with a full sized C-123 cargo plane inside. El Avion. I had jumped from C-123s back in the day andwanted to check it out on our return. We decided to eat there. This was the occasion of one of the greatest things Mick ever said about me. Unwittingly.

I was demonstrating the jumpmaster technique of hanging out the paratroop door in preparation for the jump. Mick said, almost to himself, "That takes balls." But, I heard him! I don't think he even realized what he was saying. No one could EVER pay me a greater compliment. This trip was complete.