Margot, Brandy, Nick and I left my house at seven in the morning. I dropped my boat off at Earl's to be repainted and Margot and I walked to the the airport for our flight to San Jose. Ten minutes later we arrived, had our boarding passes in hand a minute after that. I don't know why they want passengers to show up an hour and a half early at this one gate one runway airport.
I had to show that I had a flight out of Costa Rica before I could get my boarding pass. Actually I'm coming back on a bus, but I've been told if you are flying in you have to show a flight out. I had doctored and email confirmation to my son, substituting my name for his, printed it off and all was good. We walked down to the immigration office inside the terminal and got our passports stamped and paid our $15 exit fees.
I only had carry on but Margot's backpack was far too big so it had to be checked. "Has this bag been inspected?" Margot said that it had not. "You should have just said, 'yes'". "But it hasn't been." Ok, off to "security" where we walked into a room placed it on a desk and a guy gave it the most cursory of inspections. No tag, no paperwork, one now just had the right to say "Yes, it has been inspected." The bag was turned over to check-in, which meant that it was placed on the floor near the door.
A wonderfully painted prop plane pulled up. An hour later about a dozen passengers boarded and we had a wonderful low altitude flight over the mountains at but a few thousand feet. 
The scenery was spectacular most of the trip, occasionally obscured by clouds. Arriving in San Jose we turned in our forms, I showed my forged exit flight details and we cleared the terminal in about a minute.
My son was coming in a few hours to the other airport. We took a bus to "Coca Cola" a region in town for which I can offer no explanation about the name. We wandered through fruit stalls and generally killed some time. Finally it was time to go to the other airport. Taxi drivers constantly asked "Where are you going?" It's really none of your business. A couple of times we told them and were offered a ride for the equivalent of $22 to $28, "no waiting." Great, what a plus for a couple killing time. We walked about a mile to the bus terminal where there were five buses queued up to leave, as soon as one would fill the next would go. We waited two minutes to board, got on the bus and paid 450 colones, just short of a buck and took big spacious seats that were far more comfortable than the back seat of a Corolla and enjoyed an easy ride to the airport.
Half an hour later my son Karl's flight arrived. Unfortunately there were two exit doors, 50 yards apart and I had no idea through which he would exit. I had not known that free transport to the bed, breakfast and dinner place was included with the dental bill. Two drivers told me the price was $30 to get to our lodgings. I had no idea where the place was. As is everything else in Costa Rica, its location was relative to other well known locations. Karl showed up and we headed off to our lodgings. Margot explained that she was a vegan and what that meant to Maria, who owns and runs the place.
Around seven dinner was laid out, steak, three kinds of vegetables, soup, salad, fruit and breads and accommodation had been made for Margot's diet. For $30 a night one gets a private room with a TV, access to a huge screen house computer, free phone calls anywhere in the world a large deck, a living room and a fully stocked kitchen as well as a huge breakfast and dinner. We were joined by another fellow I could never understand a gravelly voiced man from Louisiana who was temporarily living in the place.
We did nothing more than play a little checkers, chat and go to bed early.
I had to show that I had a flight out of Costa Rica before I could get my boarding pass. Actually I'm coming back on a bus, but I've been told if you are flying in you have to show a flight out. I had doctored and email confirmation to my son, substituting my name for his, printed it off and all was good. We walked down to the immigration office inside the terminal and got our passports stamped and paid our $15 exit fees.
I only had carry on but Margot's backpack was far too big so it had to be checked. "Has this bag been inspected?" Margot said that it had not. "You should have just said, 'yes'". "But it hasn't been." Ok, off to "security" where we walked into a room placed it on a desk and a guy gave it the most cursory of inspections. No tag, no paperwork, one now just had the right to say "Yes, it has been inspected." The bag was turned over to check-in, which meant that it was placed on the floor near the door.
A wonderfully painted prop plane pulled up. An hour later about a dozen passengers boarded and we had a wonderful low altitude flight over the mountains at but a few thousand feet. The scenery was spectacular most of the trip, occasionally obscured by clouds. Arriving in San Jose we turned in our forms, I showed my forged exit flight details and we cleared the terminal in about a minute.My son was coming in a few hours to the other airport. We took a bus to "Coca Cola" a region in town for which I can offer no explanation about the name. We wandered through fruit stalls and generally killed some time. Finally it was time to go to the other airport. Taxi drivers constantly asked "Where are you going?" It's really none of your business. A couple of times we told them and were offered a ride for the equivalent of $22 to $28, "no waiting." Great, what a plus for a couple killing time. We walked about a mile to the bus terminal where there were five buses queued up to leave, as soon as one would fill the next would go. We waited two minutes to board, got on the bus and paid 450 colones, just short of a buck and took big spacious seats that were far more comfortable than the back seat of a Corolla and enjoyed an easy ride to the airport.
Half an hour later my son Karl's flight arrived. Unfortunately there were two exit doors, 50 yards apart and I had no idea through which he would exit. I had not known that free transport to the bed, breakfast and dinner place was included with the dental bill. Two drivers told me the price was $30 to get to our lodgings. I had no idea where the place was. As is everything else in Costa Rica, its location was relative to other well known locations. Karl showed up and we headed off to our lodgings. Margot explained that she was a vegan and what that meant to Maria, who owns and runs the place.Around seven dinner was laid out, steak, three kinds of vegetables, soup, salad, fruit and breads and accommodation had been made for Margot's diet. For $30 a night one gets a private room with a TV, access to a huge screen house computer, free phone calls anywhere in the world a large deck, a living room and a fully stocked kitchen as well as a huge breakfast and dinner. We were joined by another fellow I could never understand a gravelly voiced man from Louisiana who was temporarily living in the place.
We did nothing more than play a little checkers, chat and go to bed early.
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