Wake up relatively early on our first full day as we’re off for a day of zip lining. Eat breakfast at the hotel where I discover that there is more to life than rice and beans – most importantly, some sort of firm and salty white cheese that is truly the bees’ knees, and Meliss and I became instantly hooked (and obsessed) for the remainder of the trip. We take a tractor to the start of the zip lining course. The tractor sucked. We were thoroughly envious of the other people on the trip who opted to ride horses to get there, the pricier option. The tractor moved approximately 2mph and we were driving over ruts approximately 2 feet deep. Whatever, it was all worth it for the zip lining which was AMAZING.
We did 8 lines in all, some slower, some damn fast, some shorter, some pretty freaking long. And all super high up in the trees.
Now, growing up, my next door neighbors had a “trolley” in their yard – essentially a zip line by the creek that ran about 150 meters or so. Let me tell you kids, no comparison. (really? No comparison b/t the zip line in your
One of our zip lining guides was also quite hot btw. I would’ve let him adjust my harness for any amount of time. Plus he called me “beautiful dimples.” Oh, and he called Jaime “beautiful eyes.” And I am pretty sure he called every other girl in our group “beautiful” something…I guess that kind of ruins the sincerity of his flattery… Whatever. He was still hot.
Let’s see. So post zipping, we ask if we can walk down instead of riding the tractor. We then discover that you in fact take the tractor b/c the road is such a pain in the ass to walk on. It then begins to pour rain. We have to stop the tractor and get back on with our tails between our legs. Except for Meliss and Dorna. They got hot guide boy to take them on his horse part of the way. Not that I’m jealous…
When we return to our hotels, Tracy, Ritu, Meliss and I begin drinking poolside. Just a long island or two. 4 long islands and about 4 hours later I discover that long islands should be left in college with all the other stupid shit you in your undergrad days. We had planned to hit up the other (Tabacon) hot springs that night, but after everyone came over to our hotel for dinner
(and long islands…) we ended up spending the evening frolicking in our pool and totally spaced Tabacon. Damn you, long islands. Oh, btw, near the end of the night, just before falling asleep, Doempke entered our room, ranted for about 5 minutes, and exited, leaving his flip flops (which smell…great) behind.
Day Three. Please Don’t Ever Call My Legs Stubby Again
Doempke can’t find his flip flops. I tell them they’re in our room; he doesn’t believe me.
Anyway, activity of the day: canyoneering. When you say this you have to do it in a sing-song voice, it’s a little tune. I can’t really sing it for you here since these are words not musical notes, but you’ll just have to imagine it. Canyoneering=rappelling down waterfalls=amazing. We did 5 falls; three on the small side that you just kind of walked down backward and perpendicular and then 2 big ones (an 80 footer and a 180 footer) where you just kind of hang on down. And you play on rocks and in the river in between the falls. And you swing back and forth through a big old waterfall on the big one. Apparently I was swinging my “stubby” (f you geoff) legs wildly through the falls on this and looked silly, but hey, I enjoyed it. Mark chose to go down head first. I am most certain that there is no way in hell that this would’ve been permitted in the
Post waterfall trekking we hit up the hot tub at the Volcano Lodge for a “shower” before we board the bus for a 5 hour ride to Tamarindo (in the Guanacaste province on the Pacific coast of
Day Four. I’ll Be in the Pool
The next morning we wake up good and early for the sole purpose of finding new lodging. We head straight to El Jardin de Eden (guys that means Garden of Eden, and wow, what a fantastic and novel hotel name. anyway.) So we go there as Brett is staying there and I have been told by him that it is que phenomenal (you have to say that like Marisol does…). They have literally one room available for the night. But the thing about traveling with 15 people is that you want to ensure that everything is copasetic for everyone with you. In the end, of course, it all worked out and everyone found rooms…at the Flamingo next door…but I have to admit that our hotel room there did rock and was a tremendous score.
I miss it L
We spent the rest of the day enjoying Tamarindo’s finest offerings: the beach. Essentially I swam, tanned, swam, tanned, etc. etc. drank coconut water out of a coconut, swam, tanned, etc. A large chunk of the group went to some bar owned by some dude named Greg who you’ll hear more about later to watch the UCLA game. We won. And they got hammered. Which made for an interesting dinner.
I especially liked the game in which we all had to pick two words to describe ourselves. Meg picked “chill whore” for herself and refused to let anyone pick two words for themselves that didn’t include bitch or whore as one of the two. Anyway. We hit up a really bad bar with really bad (but free for the ladies…) drinks and bad music before moving along to Ray Sol, a discoteque. The smoke machines were in full effect,
and the music was techno circa 1997, which brought me back to my days of Sig Ep formals. The drink: Red Bull and vodka. I mean Maxx and Vodka. Ignore the massive neon Red Bull sign on the wall. They don’t have it.
The night ended at the first years’ house which featured an open air pool in its center. Guess who ended up fully clothed in said pool at the end of the night? I’ll give you a hint. It was me.
I truly relished my long walk home clothed in a sopping wet thin cotton dress.
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