Pictures are not everything
Trip Start Jan 09, 2007
10Trip End Jan 17, 2007
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I was pretty pissy and tried everything I know to get over it. It was not working. I debated staying another night and meeting up with Wende in San Jose on Wednesday. I briefly consider changing my plane ticket and staying another week alone. We decide this probably goes against the advice Wende's mom gave us to not "...do anything dumb."
We hadn't gotten a good nights sleep in days so we decided to do a little catch up napping. In my anger, sleep eluded me, but eventually I dozed off. We woke at 2:30pm and ate. After, we spent until sundown at the beach. We watched a sail boat against the burning sky and the birds diving into the ocean for fish. Back in our room, we wash off the sand and salt.
We arrive at the ranger station at 7:15. They tell me I have to wait. I wait. There is a party of 3 LOUD Americans. Well, to be fair, only one was loud, it just made the group look bad. The annoying one was infuriated that she couldn't take pictures (the flash bothers the turtles). How was she going to "prove it" to her friends back home if she couldn't take pictures, she wondered aloud. She asked us how much we paid for tickets. We told her we hadn't yet but they were $16. Her eyes looked like they got more crazy. She told us that the resort where they were staying in Tamarindo charged them $105 per person. They also had numbers 29, 30, and 31, meaning that one person would have to wait for the second group. They waited until around 9 then decided it wasn't worth it if she couldn't take pictures and left. No refunds, $315. Crazy Americans.
The first group left at midnight. Wende and I were in group two so we waited some more. finally at a quarter past one the next turtle arrived and we went to see her. When we got there she was finishing digging her hole in the sand. I was about a meter deep. Then we watched her lay her eggs. After a bit when she was covering them back up she started throwing sand on the crowd. I think she did it on purpose. (Geeze people, I'm trying to work here. Just want to lay my eggs and get back in the water! Stay back!) Wende and I decided that her name was Marda. Or something close.
We went back to our hotel and chatted with our neighbor lady. She and her husband and their 7th grade and 9th grade girls had moved from Idaho to San Jose for a year. Her husband was the only one who knew Spanish (which he learned on his LDS mission in Nicaragua). We exchanged a few travel stories and went to bed around 3:30am.