Our Flights to Costa Rica, 1992

      In Edmonton, we had to get up in the middle of the night (4:30 AM) which was 3:30 AM BC time, to catch our flight.  The plane departed at 6:00, landing in Dallas at 3:00 in the afternoon.  Once landed, I nursed my painful back the best I could, sitting on a Dallas Airport bench, watching over our bags, as my wife  went off to try to find a paperback to read on our trip.   The flight from Edmonton certainly hadn’t helped my back, and I began wondering about finding I a chiropractor once we got to Costa Rica.

    As I sat there, I was lulled into zombie-like state, listening to man and woman take turns soliciting funds “for a homeless family” from the baggage-lugging airport crowd passing by.  I couldn’t help but wonder about the validity of their “charity” since it was taking place inside an international airport.   That seemed a rather strange place to seek funds for a homeless family, but not many people taken in by the scam.

    From Dallas, we flew to Guatemala City where some of the passengers were to depart.  At night, through the window, I watched a very active lighting storm strobing the jungle below us. 

    Before we landed, I was surprised when we were fumigated by the stewardesses, who came slowly walking down the aisle with spray cans, misting the seated passengers.  Either it was a token effort  or we were being sprayed with pretty potent toxins.  Once the Guatemalan tourists had deplaned, our flight resumed for two more hours, arriving at the San Jose Airport at 10:30.  Upon finally landing, we were exhausted, but fortunately, getting through Costa Rica Customs was quick and easy.

    As we walked out of the airport building, our bags were grabbed by a kid, when we asked him about getting a taxi.  We followed him to the open trunk of a waiting minibus.  We climbed in, sat down, then were thrown against the back of our seats, as the minibus raced 110 km/hr toward San Jose.  The ride cost us $10 US, plus tips for the baggage boy, the driver, and then the doorman of the hotel.  The hemorrhaging of money, didn’t seem to stop.

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