Doubleplusgood

If I were a mid-century head of the household, you would all be curling up on my modern danish sofa and taking in 302 photo slides of our trip to Costa Rica. Fortunately, I am not. After a soul crushing all-nighter, Morgan and I found our way to Manuel Antonio, Costa Rica. The trip down there came and went with ease, but that is not to say it was all a treat. Does MIA's "Paper Planes" still makes you smile? Guess what won't...waiting for actual planes at MIA. Burger King or Cinnabon? No. Quiznos or Subway? Tanpoco. The place is less an airport and more a crowded, foodless airplane parking lot.While we survived the layover, we soon found the bane of Morgan's existence: puddle jumping planes in turbulence. Here she is post trauma. Emotional scars... check.
Had enough of the petty complaints. Me too. Lets get to the real meat of the trip...

Upon arrival we checked into our hotel, and out of real life. Cut 50% of the humidity and drop a Costco within 20 miles and you have a place where we could spend the rest of eternity. It took little time to find infinity pools, plantains, the beach, and some Coca-Cola. Morgan may have struggled with the plane, but she quickly put the elements back in check on the boogie board. I hate to be shown up, but this girl can drop onto a wave and rapidly cruise anywhere on the beach with style. I would provide some photographic evidence, but all we took to the beach that day was some cash and our "a" games. If you don't believe me try calling the public phone near the beach, I am sure someone there remembers her performance.

After a couple mild sunburns, more than a fair share of chapters in the latest "Baby Sitter's Club," and a few days of relaxation, we decided to take in a canopy tour. I am telling you now ziplines are the future. Ziplines and ball bearings. We both loved flying through the jungle and acting like spoiled kids at expensive scout camps.

The days flew by. Howling monkeys put us to rest each night and a delicious all you can eat/anything you can imagine breakfast woke us up each morning. Days at the beach and nights in the warm hotel pools. Bill Pullman movies. Vacation. As the trip winded down, we spent a few days at the prettiest beach on the planet. It goes by the name Playa Tres (loose translation: vacuum horseshoe). "Deep" in the national park people were few and iguanas many. The blue/green water rocked us slowly into submission. Above ground plant organs provided plenty of cool shade. Observant travel agents took note.










































And out.