The bus wasn’t too bad– assigned seats make everything go a little more smoothly. We caught a taxi to the hotel we’d decided on, a nice little place called La Guaria Hotel, around the corner from the central park area and with a swimming pool and including breakfast. Obviously a favorite of Americans coming or going, because we met 2 (including a gal we’d met in Monteverde) and a Brit at breakfast.
We killed the hour between breakfast and packing by sitting at the pool, chilling out and reading.
Boarding the plane in San Jose did not go smoothly. They’d overbooked the New York flights, and asked all the New Yorkers if they wanted to switch to the later direct non-stop flight. Since they weren’t offering anything extra, like another ticket, a hotel room, or first class seating, nobody wanted to spend another 6 hours there at the airport. Of course, this (and another delay, which I’ll mention in a minute) resulted in about an hour delay leaving San Jose, and I happen to know the connecting flight to New York only had about an hour window. So I suspect that all the New Yorkers who didn’t want to switch flights and be late getting home were, well, late getting home.
[I'm especially snarky about this because there was a couple from New York who irritated me. Mostly her-- he was a Brit who had enough manners to stand more than six inches away from the next person in line, and was probably horrified when she cut in line to stand behind us. She probably wasn't even all that bad, except the first words I heard out of her mouth were "My back hurts-- I'm not standing in this line" in a very whiny tone. And yes, I know I've had those moments-- many of them. But she rubbed me the wrong way.]
Meanwhile, there was another delay once we got onto the plane. As we were boarding, all passengers going to Toronto were pulled aside for extra screening. Then, someone from airport security walked through the plane after everyone was seated to check all the Toronto-bound passengers’ passports. Finally, we waited another twenty minutes or so while paperwork was pushed around.
Naturally, John and I had a connecting flight that left almost 4 hours after we arrived in San Salvador, so we still had time to get dinner and drinks between planes.
Our flight landed about 25 minutes late, and it was just before midnight before we got out to the curb, where our airport shuttle driver, Max, was waiting for us, as agreed the week before, but since we had no phone to call during the week to confirm or remind him, I think we were both wondering if he’d be there. He was.
The cat is fine, napping on the bed that’s still unfolded from when was here before our trip. He was very snuggly all night, and apparently behaved well for the pet sitter. One who did not do so well was Hansel, my rescue betta, who passed away and is now in the freezer.
A highlight I forgot to mention from Day 5: We had dinner in a tiny “restaurant” that was essentially the living room of a local Tico family. One of the best meals we had, by far. Nothing fancy, but it was a home-cooked meal, made on a wood-burning stove. Yum!
