Road Babe Dispatch From Manuel Antonio

When I arrived in San Jose, the baggage claim attendant pleasantly informed me that my suitcase was lost. I didn’t trust her. Anyone who smiles when they tell you they fucked up isn’t trustworthy. The next morning, I was going to the National Park in Manuel Antonio, to meet up with the rest of my family who had gotten there the day before. “Come ready to swim,” my sister said. “We're heading out to snorkel as soon as you make it.” At the time, I was wearing a bathing suit top as a bra. Convenient - but the lower half was another story. At least I hadn’t gone commando, but the stringy something I was wearing wasn't much.

Road Babe Dispatch From Costa Rica

Living in Mexico, it seems funny to say that the flavor of tequila reminds me of Costa Rica. That’s not the only thing that jogs my memory though. The smell of coconut oil, champagne spilled on a silk dress, the calls of thieving howler monkeys, and finally the texture of sand in my mouth all bring me back. It’s not as bad as it sounds. It was my sister’s wedding.