Red Wine and Shark Meat

Am sitting at the border town between Costa Rica and Panama, but just wanted to say a little more about Costa Rica. When I came in here it was easy to see the difference between CR and the other central american countries. Instead of people living in metal and cardboard shacks, they were actually living in real houses. Instead of seeing 3 people riding on one bicycle, there were actually nice cars being driven around. That is, if they could get around the potholes that are big enough to swallow a small Toyota. But I gotta say it made riding thru a bit more boring. People hardly even noticed, or cared, that I was riding through town. So its been nice to be treated somewhat normal the last couple weeks instead of being the Gringo Freakboy On A Bicicleta. Anyways, down in the southern half of Costa Rica it has become too humid to hardly ride during the day. The humidity picks up so fast down here that it's been downpouring rain every night for the last five days.
So, the other night was one of the most memorable on this trip. Riding through some small town, I was expecting to find a hotel to crash at for the night. Of course, there were none. So I continued along into the jungle, not knowing if I would find a place or not. The next town was too far to get to before dark, and stupid me was out of water and food. As it got darker and darker, and the rainclouds moved in, I was not looking forward to camping in this jungle that surrounded me. But then I came across a small, broken sign that said B&B and turned down the dirtroad hoping for at least a little shelter from the rain. What I found was way more than I could have imagined. A wooden, open-windowed mansion with a natural swimming pool owned by a French couple in the middle of the Costa Rican jungle. Unbelievable. So what looked to be a miserable wet night in the forest dealing with the heat and mosquitos, turned into a night of wining and dining at this amazing place. I sat there all night drinking French wine, eating tasty shark and listening to jazz as the rain fell outside. Life is always best when it's unplanned.
So now, my thoughts have turned towards the last leg of this journey. With a plane ticket already purchased to fly back to Minneapolis on April 1st, I now am on some kind of time schedule. Jeremy doesn't know how he feels about that. But, due to this thing called a JOB, the trip must soon come to an end.

(Jeremy and The Rooster exit stage left, audience weeps)