Throughout my life, I had never given any thought to the country of Costa Rica, in my mind I am sure I had always gotten it and Puerto Rico mixed up, but as a result of my environmental interests, Costa Rica began popping up more and more in my reading, because it had begun to establish a lot of nature reserves, in its varied ecological areas. Because of its location in the narrow landmass between North and South America, and its tropical clime, it supported a wide spectrum of both flora and fauna from both continents.
Their nature reserves were part of a strategy to entice eco-tourism, and that strategy, was sure beginning to work on me. Exploring jungles, sea shores, and volcanoes, in a democratic land without a standing army, pressed all my “POSITIVE” buttons, and it was certainly the kind of place I wanted to support, so we planned our 1992 summer vacation there.
My wife and I had arranged a flight to Costa Rica starting in mid-August. I was certainly in need of a vacation after so much work on the fire flaps we had. I had my old green bag that I had used on my trip to Guatemala, straining at the seams with all of the things I was taking along. When I found my passport, I made a happy discovery: $150 in US Traveller’s Cheques that I had not used in my previous travels. I made arrangements to have friends water our house plants and take care of the goats.
It was not the first time before a big vacation that I pushed myself too hard trying to clean out the manure from the barn before we left, and as a result, I threw out my back, and could only stand at an angle, and in pain. We had to begin our trip by driving to Edmonton to catch a flight. Because of my back, my wife had to do all of the driving, while I tried to recline, the best I could, in the lowered passenger seat.
We stopped and called chiropractors seeking help for me, all along our route; in Hinton, Edson, and Leduc, all without success. When we got to our motel in Nisku, Alberta, close to the Edmonton International Airport, I continually called the local chiropractor, but he never did pick up his phone, so I was doomed to fly all the way to Costa Rica with my screwed up back.
My wife was not in optimum spirits either. In Nisku, she had discovered that she had packed the wrong pair of white pants into her suitcase, so she was missing the “key piece” of her wardrobe for the trip. This left her mad and worried, so that left both of us in not the best mood to begin a trip to a foreign country.
View my paintings: davidmarchant2.ca
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