acquired a run of bug bites along my backside from the last place we stayed which are itchy
and I can't see. I show them to R and he winces which makes me think they aren't good. Still
- between us on this trip we have barely had any bites so we've done ok.
We have a nice morning looking round Alajuela with Ully's retrieval first on the list. We
come across a playground and R spends a good half hour climbing and playing. There's
another climbing wall and he scales it brilliantly. He also shoots down the slide very
quickly and looks very pleased with himself. Some bigger boys are using the equipment a
bit more quickly and dangerously and he tries his best to copy them - but stays within his
own limits.
Later we get our swimming things and head out to catch a bus to a swimming area I read about
in Lonely Planet called Ojos de Agua - the same as the beautiful pools we were in at
Ometepe. I take the pushchair and we sit waiting at the bus stop for about 10 minutes. In
that time, R is getting increasingly annoying: climbing on me, pulling at me, scratching me
(not deliberately but he's grabbing me and his nails keep scratching). I say to him that
when the bus comes I need him to help me and do exactly what I say. Buses here are not set
up for pushchairs (you barely see any pushchairs anywhere) and have very steep steps and I
know it's going to be a struggle getting me, him, bag, his shoes and the chair onto the bus.
The bus comes and R goes into complete meltdown. He loses his shoes and tries to run away.
I grab him and shove him up the steps onto the bus where a kind man indicates would I like
him to grab R and I say yes please, so he holds on to a kicking and screaming toddler while
I grab the chair and try to get it up the steps. It's really tricky and of course I can
feel the eyes of the whole bus on me. The man suggests I take R and he takes the chair,
which in my floundering I hadn't thought of, but is a much better idea. Someone else gives
us their seat at the front of the bus, I finish collapsing the chair and wedge it in behind
the seat.
R is hysterical and screaming and saying he wants Ully and Doddy (dummy). I say he didn't
help me get on the bus as he promised and he needs to say sorry before he can have them. We
have a stand off for what feels like 15 minutes, but is probably more like 3. Thankfully I
can see other passengers are on my side and one old man even waggles his finger at R, which
has some effect on him. He apologises and I give him Ully and doddy and he's asleep within
5 minutes. Aaah - so he was tired.
Getting off the bus with all the stuff and a sleeping toddler is somewhat easier than
getting on it was - though I have to work really hard to get the pushchair out from where it
is wedged, again with the whole bus watching (and likely thinking why do these Western
people use those chairs - or where is the Daddy and why isn't he helping her?).
Ojos de Agua turns out to be a series of (cold) swimming pools of different design and
function. One large pool with high diving boards for adults (oh how I would love to play
there), one shallow pool for kids and another seperate pool with a waterfall at one end that
gets gradually deeper. It's a kind of Tico theme park and we are the only extranjeros
(foreigners) there.
R sleeps for a good hour in the pushchair, so I get a couple of cheeky lengths in the pool
in - don't dare leave him for longer than that, and then for the first time, get to sunbathe
in peace for a while. Because it's our last day, I am not as fastidious with sunscreen (on
me) as usual. I will pay for that later - but not as much as my friend Nicola did the day
she chose to use baby oil instead of sunscreen on her final day of holiday in Mexico (thanks
for that Nic, I still chuckle about it).
when he wakes we go for a swim in a shallow, cold pool then we are hungry so go to get food
-and end up with chips. I tell R he has to share the chips and he's furious about it before
they even arrive. He refuses to sit at the same table as me at the cafe, so I order myself a
beer and am quite pleased not to have to talk toddler over lunch for once. Just before the
chips come, I ask them to put them on two separate plates and I give one to him on his table
and have one on mine.
Next we head up to a shallow pool which is chock full of children aged between 3 and 6.
They see R and all say 'Que lindo' and just mob him. He is surrounded and they are holding
his hands and stroking him and trying to cuddle him. He takes it in his stride and I hear
him saying his first unprompted Spanish phrase when they try to do something he doesn't like
'No me gusta'.
I am sitting on benches by the pool and there are some Tico women next to me who start a
conversation about our trip and have lots of questions about how we like Costa Rica and the
people and whether we prefer it to Nicaragua. They tell me they are teachers on an outing.
Their school is for disadavantaged children so swimming is a rare treat for them. They
say they children have never seen a blonde haired blue eyed child before which is why they
are fascinated. They call over one child to show him to me - and say he is the fairest they
have. He has green eyes while the others all have brown.
R walks around the pool and the crowd follow him. I can vaguely hear what is going on and
he is singing - I think the song is 'What's that coming over the hill, is it a monster?' by
the Automatic. I walk past and I hear a child throw a sound at R - like 'cha cha cha' and
he copies it and works it into his song. He has found the international language of music.
The teachers tell me they are responsible for 21 three to five year olds each and that there
are no legal maximums here like we have in England. They ask if English nursery teachers
are well paid ohave to say no.
All the kids are given juice drinks and they give R one. THen the kids come up to me and
start asking for different words in English. They are not very confident but one or two
start trying to copy what I say after a while.
We head back home and I see a toy superstore so I decide I will get him a gift for being
such a good travel companion and maybe to occupy him on our long flight home. It's one of
only 2 or 3 times I've been in a toy superstore and the first time I've done so with R and
the choice is truly overwhelming. I'm sorry to have to report that there's a 'girls' aisle
here that's pink. We head down the vehicles aisle and R is pretty good about not demanding
everything he sees.
I spot a remote control pick-up truck which is reasonably priced and for which the control
is attached by a wire to the truck so an amateur driver can't do too much harm with their
truck or lose it in a huge airport. He hasn't used remote control before.
We wait till we get home to open it and then he runs around the hostel with it like a madman
- crazed with pleasure. He won't let me touch the truck or show him that the lever goes up
for forward and down for backward and it's only forward for him. That night he goes to bed
with Ully, doddy and the pick-up truck all firmly about his person.
The next morning is the day we fly home and I'm very excited about it. We are only a five
minute drive from the airport and I'm pretty confident we are going to have an easy journey
home.
At the aiport there are the usual shenanigans with departure tax payments, security checks
etc but R stay in the pushchair and it's all stress free. There's a huge lounge where we
wait for the flight and R runs up and down countless times with his new remote control pick
up truck. He is giddy with the excitement and I can see some people enjoying watching him,
while others frown or just ignore this little ball of energy running around.
A man with a guitar and amp comes into the lounge and starts playing. I tell R to go and
watch him and he goes within about 10m of the man and starts dancing. The man breaks into
Twinkle Twinkle Little Star followed by Freres Jacques, another of R's favourites. Several
people that look like grandparents are utterly enchanted by this. I hang back so that no
one will know who's with the child. I like it that way.
As it's time to board, we approach the guitar player and ask if he can do Simon and
Garfunke's Cecilia. He plays it and R sings it, to the amazement of all around.
We board the flight but due to a VIP plane take off our departure is delayed 50 minutes. R
sleeps through the flight and I start a new David Mitchell book. This is SOO civilised.
As we come to land, the captain apologises for the delay and says can passengers let those
with connecting flights get off first. It occurs to me to check how long we have to make
our connection. I check and the answer is - about 50 minutes (post delay) to take off and
15 to boarding. SHIT.
We get off the plane and the pushchair hasn't been brought up. After every single other
person has left the plane I'm still waiting for the pushchair. I have to go back on the
plane and one of the crew does down to get it. I stick R in the chair and we sprint through
Miami airport, where I know we have 40 minutes to go through passport control, collect our
bags, re-check our bags, go through security again and board the new plane.
At one point R, who's not strapped into the chair, stands up without warning to get out,
goes flying through the air, lands on his face and I half run him over with the pushchair.
He starts howling. A man stops to help me pick everything up and strap a hysterical child
back in the chair so I can keep running. I pull the final emergency lollipop from my bag
and give it to him. It does the trick.
At passport control I just go under all the barriers and thankfully no one at security sees
me. I get to the queue at a desk and explain to the people there that our flight is in 15
minutes. They let us go to the front and we are through in record time.
Then it's on to get the bags. I can't see any bags on the carousel and am looking around
frantically for a few minutes. Then a baggage handler sees me and asks if I'm going to
London. Yes I say. He tells me that our bags will have been automatically re-checked. I
can't verify this anywhere but I rush on to the next security checks.
Not being able to access our checked luggage, I haven't been able to get our warm things for
landing in England, including my shoes (I'm still in flip flops) or to check the duty free I
bought in Costa Rica.
I hustle everyone in the security queue and manage to get quite close to the front. Then a
woman tells me she's in a rush too and she won't let us go in front of her. We wait what
seems like an age and finally get checked. They aren't happy about the duty free and it
gets pulled out. The slowest woman in the world scans it and then has to tape it in sealed
bags. Taping a carrier bag takes her at least 10 minutes. While she's doing it, I find out
what departure gate our flight goes from and see that it is just across the hall. Finally, a
piece of luck in our favour. She finishes taping and we rush out just as they close the
doors to the flight.
I can't believe we've missed the flight and fall dramatically to my knees in despair,
begging the woman at the desk to open the doors and let us on. SHe says she can't, but they
will check us onto another flight. I have no idea how long we will be delayed and only
have a skeleton of stuff to keep myself and the boy entertained, fed and warm. I picture
days of waiting in the airport. We were finally at the end and I have nothing more to give,
and now this.
She books us onto a flight which leaves .... at 7.15pm. Forty minutes after our first
flight. Oh. So you mean I just ran all the way through the airport, pissed all those people
off, threw my son out of his pushchair and ran him over - for you to put me on a flight 40
minutes later. All it needed was for ONE person to say to me, don't worry, there are plenty
of London flights, it's not high season, you'll get on another flight within an hour or so
and all of that would have been avoided. Just one person. The only person who did
anything to calm me down the whole time was R - who as we waited for the delayed pushchair
said 'Don't worry Mummy.'
We board our flight and the rest is easy. We have fun watching the world below us fall away
and R eventually falls asleep. I watch a brilliant Richard Linklater film called Boyhood,
which I heartily recommend.
When I get the puschair returned at the other end, one of the handles snaps off. If this
had happened even 10 hours earlier it would have been a huge problem. Now, I'm past caring,
even though American Airlines won't accept responsibity as the chair wasn't covered.
And finally we are home. It's cold, but not as bitterly as I'd imagined, there's blue in
the sky and the trees are bare - a novelty after all the luscious greenery we've been
surrounded by. And we still have the biggest characters on license plates of anywhere in
the world.
Thanks for reading and sharing our journey. This was definitely a once in a lifetime
experience and I hope you've enjoyed it as much as we have.