Believe it or not, I’m bored.  So is Heide.  In the land of beautiful sunsets over the Pacific, spectacular beaches with gently sloping fine sand, and all the sunshine you could ever want, I have managed to find a rut and get stuck in it.  Deep down, I know I should be pitied.

The daily routine starts with a pot of Costa Rican coffee…perhaps some of the finest in the world.  We’ve been sampling a few different varieties in search of the perfect brand to stuff our suitcase with on the way home.   Next, I check email and sort through the half-dozen messages in my inbox (what a pleasant change from the 150-200 per day I got while working).  That takes about 5 minutes since they are mostly advertisements about Travelsmith clothing deals or Viagra.  After making breakfast or heading to the local morning hot spot, Marie’s Restaurant, to let them do the cooking for me, I spend a little time pondering deep thoughts.  My thoughts have begun to wander to redoing the kitchen counters, finishing the workshop and man cave in the basement, and completing the interior remodeling on the boat.  Kind of sick, isn’t it?

On some mornings, I give our son Mark a call for an update on his, Eileen’s and Thomas’s worlds; I periodically give my brother Jim a call for a Michigan update.  A walk on the beach and/or swim in the pool completes the morning ritual by about 9:00 AM.  By this time of the day, the temperature outside is already climbing to that on the surface of the sun.  I expect to see solar flares coming off the beach any day now.  Consequently, it’s time to run for the air conditioning, which by the way, Ticos don’t seem to bother with.  In spite of the intense afternoon heat (mid-90s F), I have yet to see a Tico sweat.  It really is starting to piss me off as I am pouring sweat like Seabiscuit after kicking War Admiral’s ass.  Breathing makes me work up a sweat and air conditioned restaurants, stores, and malls are non-existent.

About noon, we start thinking about lunch (no different than at home) and try to come up with a new place to eat.  As it turns out, there are relatively few options in Playa Flamingo and we’ve tried them all.  It took us three days to actually find the new place we wanted to try: El Coconut Beach Club.  I saw advertisements in The Howler magazine (named for the local monkeys) and saw signs along the road.  Street addresses and house numbers are nonexistent here as are route numbers and road signs.  If you don’t know where you’re going, you shouldn’t be on that road to begin with…

By the time we are finished lunch, it is time to drink about three gallons of water to replenish body fluids and plan my afternoon nap.  I always tell Heide that I’m going to lay down for a while and read my Kindle but she knows the real truth.  About an hour and a half later, I’m done “reading” and it’s time to start thinking about dinner.

After watching the sunset over the Pacific, dinner is usually out somewhere…e.g., The Beach House (Marianne bubbles while telling us about “sock coffee”), Flamingo Hotel’s Arenas Restaurant (where Orlando gives us Spanish pronunciation lessons and a history lesson about coffee), or Angelina’s (everyone there knows my name–excellent pizza).  After a few drinks at dinner, I’m ready to head back to the condo for an evening on the balcony listening to the surf crash below, drinking some scotch and smoking a fine Cuban cigar (bought a box out of some guy’s backpack on the beach in Tamarindo–I’m sure they aren’t counterfeit !!!).

Let’s recap:  Costa Rican morning coffee, walk on the beach, lunch, a nap, dinner, scotch and a cigar.  I am so bored.  I have to try to find some things to do….seriously.