14th november

The infant morning threw a veil of mist across the valley floor and there it would hang like a plane of gun smoke until ushered away with the advent of the day’s breezes. It’s arrival found me long since awoken by the charming, twittering dawn chorus beyond my window. It carried me aloft from my repose on gossamer wings of soft-sweet notes into the milky bright sunshine of the new dawn, their sweet song heralding the birth of another blessed day. Plucked from the blissful cradle of Morpheus as I had been, I was gathered and delivered unto Aurora’s stable from whence Apollo’s golden chariot would momentarily commence its daily charge. I was privileged. I was honoured. I was … knackered! What do I have to do to get some sleep around here? Where’s my shotgun! Those birds are gonna get it tomorrow …
Each Sunday, the whole family, or just part of it, goes to Dave’s brother in law, Joe, for a barbeque. Only Dave Sr. went this time and he invited me to go with him. We took the jeep and travelled for about ten minutes through the Alajuela suburb to another area. Joe also had a larger than usual house for the neighbourhood although this was a sprawling bungalow. There seems to be a large community of ex-pat Americans here, a bit like the Brits in Spain. It probably has much to do with the cheap cost of living compared to the States and the money goes much further here. I noticed that Joe’s bungalow was like a fortress, with high walls, barbed wire atop of it and an automated gate. Several other houses on route were the same so it seems that this is a less than secure society, especially if you look like you have something to steal. And the grass … same stuff.
Joe had some shellfish, which Dave showed him how to cook. They were gorgeous and I admit to looking on enviously at a spare one until Joe snaffled it.
Returning to the house, I was a little bored. I had nothing to do and it was difficult living in someone else’s house. When you’re hungry, you feel a little self-conscious about helping yourself to other people’s food and sometimes you don’t know where to put yourself. I wanted to tell Danielle to get supper on and where are my Monster Munch’s. There wasn’t much I could do and this was not where I belonged.
And where’s my motorcycle? What would Che have done I wonder? Diagnosed someone as pregnant and then started a revolution? I’d better not do that today.
I asked Dave Snr to show me the trunks that Jim had talked about – they were two in his garage. There was already a white cooler box in there with ‘Sinai Wildlife Projects ‘written on the side so no need to buy another. I used a grinding tool to shear off the lock from the one with no key but I didn’t really have time to examine the contents. I also mentioned the money that Jim had said to get from them but he said that he hadn’t wired it through yet. And nor did they have the motorcycle for me for the same reason – no money so no one had been out to get buy one!
No motorcycle? I don’t think I can live without my motorcycle. I know that when Che lost his motorcycle, he took solace in a leper colony. I would rather have a motorcycle than a leper colony …