I did something I never do. I checked in online, people! Jesus didn't come back, but here's hoping it won't be long.
The reason I did this was because my Chilean travel agent friend who I met on the long-awaited bus from Jaco (did I mention the amount of time spent on buses?) said that the flight from San José is always overbooked and that I should check-in online to be sure that I got a seat. You can generally trust #BusFriends, so I took a deep breath then checked in via my phone.
I wouldn't stay in that particular budget hotel again - it wasn't the delightful one I stayed in on arrival where they treated me like long-lost family. My last night was spent in a hotel where the walls were so thin I thought someone was breaking into my room every time anyone moved, anywhere in the hotel. The bedding was clean but tired. I checked-out and, as I have with every taxi in Costa Rica, ordered myself an Uber to the airport. The joy of Uber is that you don't need to speak the language of the country; the app does it all for you. Regular taxi drivers are not overly happy with Uber's presence, nor are the government over the whole tax situation, but for an adventurer with limited Spanish, it was fantastic, and recommended by various friends I made.
On arrival at the airport, I obtained my bag sticker from the magic machine, which knew exactly where I was going. I recruited a staff member to help me affix the sticker as I have failed with these in the past and really wanted a reunion with Bluebird once in London.
I joined the 'Bag Drop' queue, having locked Bluebird closed with her two little padlocks.
A rotund uniformed woman with a 'Security' badge neatly sewn on her right pocket looked me up and down,
'Pasaporte'
'Si', I quivered, showing her my passport. This wasn't the time to confirm that the angry moomin in the photo is in fact, me. I'm not sure she'd have seen the funny side.
Her eyes fell on the giant green 'T' sticker which the magic machine had churned out additionally, just for Bluebird.
I tried to lighten the mood -
'I'm a bit like a Tigger because I bounce around a lot. Hence, T for Tigger!'
She stared at me. I realised that her belt was not just a belt - it was home to not only a 2-way radio, a truncheon, but also, a gun. I couldn't help wondering if it was loaded, but it didn't feel like the right time to ask.
'Your bag. I need to search your bag'. She grabbed one of Bluebird's padlocks.
'Where the key?'
'Here', I hurriedly reached into my pocket and removed the padlock. Let's be clear - I had nothing dodgy in there, nothing to hide. My bag hadn't been out of my possession since I'd locked it.
Suddenly, I froze. What if she thinks that my 165 'Inflatable Fun' cloth badges, only available for delivery in the US (hence my trip) are LSD patches?! They are iron-on so have a shiny back. That looks dodgy. Oh Lord, how will I explain this? I really haven't got time to be detained, I've got residentials to organise! I need to get back to my set of checklists (rather than to-do lists, which are worse, according to the time management guru who wrote the third book I have read in the last nine days) - if this means nothing, I suggest you read the rest of the blog for this trip. She won't believe that I have 165 children in the UK waiting for their 'Inflatable Fun' badge.
I unlocked Bluebird's main compartment and smiled at the rotund uniformed woman. She didn't smile back. Instead, she rubbed something over the top layer of my clothes, washbag, towel. I held my breath. She placed it into a machine which bleeped. I'm being detained, I thought. I've got to take Purple in for her surgery tomorrow!
She looked back at me.
'Is ok'.
'Is ok?' I retorted.
'Si'.
I went to open Bluebird's other compartment but the rotund uniformed woman stopped me.
'Is ok'.
I looked, questioningly, if that is even a word.
'Is ok', she repeated.
'Ok', wow this is a deep conversation, I thought.
I re-locked Bluebird's main compartment, handed her to the rotund uniformed woman and watched her put Bluebird onto the conveyor belt.
And breathe.
I headed to security which was straightforward. When I led a group of 37 young people to Switzerland in May, I was loaded with epipens, insulin, enough Piriton to sink a battleship (well, 100ml in my hand luggage), but it being just me, it was very chilled.
On going on into the airport, you are enveloped into an enormous gift shop on every side. Smiling staff are there to ply you with free and delicious Costa Rican coffee whilst you peruse their colossal expanse of stuff you have lived quite happily without for your whole life.
I purchased my standard souvenirs - a pin badge with the flag of Costa Rica, some cloth badges and a postcard. I was disappointed to not find a thimble to add to my burgeoning collection - more than 600 thimbles document my life since the age of 7 - not that I can sew; in fact I struggle to thread a needle.
I queued up at a Currency Bureau to magic my remaining colones into pounds. The woman behind me said -
'I'm just changing up some currency for my mom - she loves to collect different money from different countries. I'm just after the yellow one'.
'Awww, that's nice', I said. What I wanted to say was, 'there's a reason you're not meant to take cash out of this country. It's people like your mother who will crash economies! Do you know how many millions of dollars is lost due to being in personal collections for no apparent reason?!'
Mind you, you can source most worldwide currencies in Plumstead High Street.
I soon boarded for Houston - the family in front of my row were headed to Thailand.
'We have another nine hour flight after this one - we are changing in China', they said.
'To where?'
'Thailand'.
'Is it not quicker to go the other way?' I questioned.
'Oh yes!' they said, and left the plane.
On the Houston flight, I was at the very back of the plane. It didn't matter - we got extra snacks. I spent the entire flight trying to finish my second Jesus book which has really stretched my thinking.
An air hostess turned up -
'Would you like some water?', she asked me.
'Yes please'
'Still?'
'Yes, I still want it please'.
Changing planes at Houston was not pleasant. We were shouted at by angry guards to get into pairs with the nearest person, whether or not we knew then. We then had to walk between two giant angry guards with two giant angry spaniels who had a good sniff of us. If I had a spaniel, I would call it Daniel. Daniel the spaniel. I wondered if either of these angry spaniels with their 'DO NOT PET' coats were called Daniel, but it wasn't really the time to ask.
I was paired with someone who said upfront - 'I'm scared of dogs'.
'You'll be ok, I assured her', praying that she didn't have anything dodgy on her, as Daniel would not be happy.
Once at Houston, I was in need of a sugar hit. I headed to Dunkin Donuts.
'Hi there, do you have a little doughnut please? I just need something little'.
'Yes maam, we have a little blueberry finger'.
That sounds a little uncomfortable, I thought.
'Thank you', I nodded, confident that a little blueberry finger would ease my sugar hunger.
I dug out my Revolut card (let me know if you want one, did I mention the ongoing fundraising?)
'It's ok Maam'
'Sorry?'
'There's no need'
'Sorry - no need to pay?'
She nodded.
'Is there anything I should know?'
'No Maam'
'You are very kind, thank you'. I strolled away, with my exclusive blueberry finger. I sat down on a thoughtfully-placed bench and opened my Dunkin Donuts bag. Oh goodness. There was no blueberry finger. Instead, there were not 1, not 2, I could go on, but I'll skip to 9, yes, 9 blueberry doughnut balls! Oh wow. I couldn't eat nine of those! I resolved to share them with the next person who sat next to me. But everyone who sat next to me turned up wielding a bag of freshly-purchased snacks, or looking as though offering them a doughnut ball might not be in their best interests in the longer term.
The plane was delayed due to it needing to have a big wash. I know the feeling. I didn't mind because it gave me a chance to finish my second Jesus book - it's called 'If you want to walk on water, you've got to get out of the boat' and it is a good choice (if you are into that sort of thing - if you're not, it probably isn't)
Eventually, I boarded and made friends with those in my row. We had some great conversations.
I'm back home now and picking up the threads of reality - five inboxes of e-mails I have studiously ignored, gazillions of actions for my ever-changing time management systems, in part thanks to my eclectic selection of books about Jesus and time management. Jesus seemed to do well with time management, although there is no evidence that Jesus used social media, which is a commitment, let's be honest. That said, He didn't really need to; He had loads of followers.
So that's it, friends. Thank you so much for sharing the adventure with me, I really do appreciate it. Until next time.
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