Where you arrive doesn't matter so much as what sort of person you are when you arrive there.
The Boeing 757-300 landed late last night. After about 3000 miles and nine hours later (including a two hour layover), we finally touched down in California. My first thoughts were of relief, but also a bit of anxiety. I was glad that we were back home, but at the same time it also meant work was looming. For the past week, my friends and I had been waking up at 6:00AM Costa Rican time. For those of you on Pacific time, that is an hour later.
We traveled in Costa Rica for a week; while stopping at four different citis including San Jose, La Fortuna, Monteverde, and Manuel Antonio.
The Friday morning we left was spent mostly traveling. We were first stopped by a thirty minute flight delay due to thunderstorms in Houston, Texas. From California to Houston it took about three and a half hours. When we arrived at the George Bush airport in Houston, we ate lunch and waited for our next flight. We knew that we would be away from our American comforts, so a last minute Jamba Juice run was necessary. Immediately we noticed that the person preparing our "red gummy bear" drink was also holding the drink instructions in her right. Lone behold, it wasn't the best drink. After we departed from Houston, three hours later we touched down in the nation's capital, San Jose, Costa Rica, at around 10pm. What were our first impressions? San Jose is equivalent to a dangerous LA neighborhood. The streets were dirty, small, and dim-lit. To my left semi-rundown buildings and to my right I saw the same. Before we boarded the plane from Houston to Costa Rica, we ran into a Costa Rican local, who warned us to stick together in San Jose especially since we did not look like locals. We quickly proceeded to immigration. The officer asked for my passport and the immigration form. I had left my occupation blank. He asked what I did for a living. For whatever reason my first instinct was to tell him I was unemployed. "No trabajo", said the officer to his co-worker. They shared a chuckle.
After we passed customs and immigration, a taxi driver approached us and asked where we were going. First stop in San Jose - Hotel Le Bergerac. His red Corolla sped down downtown and on the way we passed what looked like a house party. Young adults were being patted down as they entered the house. We chatted with the taxi driver and asked him about the weather. He said that it rained constantly on and off. After about twenty minutes, we arrived at our hotel for the night. A nice girl took us to our room and I was actually pleasantly surprised. It wasn't a five star hotel/resort, but it wasn't rundown either. You could tell this was a nicely kept hotel. We were completely exhausted, so we knocked out.
Labels: Places You Wished You Visited, Travels