Mike and Eric joined me on the beach and we walked through the short stretch of jungle one last time. With my surfboard in the bike rack, I tried to be smart and steady myself against a truck in the parking lot, but as soon as I let go of it, I tumbled over on top of bike and board, scraping my hand in the gravel. Ouch. Mike helped me get going and I made it back to the resort. I hope that by the next time, Surf Simply has some bikes for shorter people.
My nemeses |
Mike, Eric and I rode together in the back of the taxi van, then hung out in the Liberia airport until our flight to Houston. I picked up a few things in the gift shop, including six bags of my favorite chips which seemingly are only available in the airports in Costa Rica. I shared a bag with the guys, who bought a bunch of their own.
I had a window seat on the plane and watched with a tinge of sadness as Costa Rica faded away below the clouds, although frankly my body couldn't take any more surfing and needed a rest. After clearing immigration (so easy with Global Entry), I said goodbye to Mike and Eric, who were headed home to Seattle. Then I met up with Miguel (now Mike, since we're back in the States and there's only one of them) and Jessica for our flight to San Diego. I sat directly behind Mike and shook his seat hard, to the shock of the woman sitting beside me; he slammed it back all the way back in response. It was all in good fun.
We'll surf together in San Diego, Mike, Jessica and I, and remind each other about what we learned at Surf Simply, which is simply the best surf camp.
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