Costa Rica 2022
This the last week of the year and hence the last celebration trip of our 50th wedding anniversary. No need to recap all the other trips, covering more than 35,000 miles; they’re documented in other blog entries here on jonandjudy.com.
This time our whole family – all eight of us – will be spending a week or so in Costa Rica. This trip has two parts. First, Jeff, Reagan and Griffin are joining us in Miami for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Then, Rebecca, Esme and Carter fly to Miami the evening of Christmas Day. We all fly to Tamarindo, Costa Rica the next day.
JW Marriott Turnberry, Aventura, FL – December 24, 2022
Jeff and company departed Boston in the eye of the big winter storm that bedeviled travelers throughout the U.S. Their original non-stop to Miami was canceled. Jeff rebooked on a connection through Indianapolis and, as a safety measure, a nonstop to Tampa at 7 AM. The Indy connection was canceled as they pulled into Boston Logan but they made the Tampa flight with no problem. Judy and I picked them up in Tampa. We stopped in Punta Gordo for lunch with Judy’s cousin, Debby Hunter and we rolled into the Marriott about 5 PM.
Dinner last night was at the Corsair restaurant in the hotel. This is the place with the gigantic pretzel appetizer and Carter’s favorite, the seven-layer chocolate cake with raspberry sauce.
Today was Sailing Day, which turned out to be an adventure none of us anticipated. Jeff spent Thanksgiving in the British Virgin Islands becoming certified to captain sailing boats. He trained in a 49-footer and had arranged for a vessel of similar size here. His idea was to give us all an introduction to the sailing life.
The tentacles of the weather system that caused havoc the day before caused Miami temperatures to plummet to unseasonable levels. The high for the day was in the upper 50s. We all bundled up with multiple layers of warmth. The storm system also kicked up six to eight-foot swells on the open water. Sailing in those conditions was not for newbies like us. We elected to stay in the Fort Lauderdale intercostal waterway where calm waters prevailed.
The owner of our boat, The Naked Truth, Captain Mark, has lived on the boat full time since 2007 and came along with us. He obviously wasn’t going to leave his only home in the hands of unknown sailors. The sailing wasn’t much more difficult than driving the Margaret B around Onawa Lake except that every 15 minutes or so there was a drawbridge to navigate through. Each bridge operates on a set schedule, generally 15 minutes after and before each hour. You must announce your intention to cross so the bridge attendant will raise the bridge. Captain Mark timed our traverse between bridges to not miss the opening. Failure would have added 30 minutes.
Captain Mark turned out to be an interesting fellow, full of personal life stories, ranging from at least two former wives and an untold number of lady friends across his 61 years. He trained as a musician at an early age, was educated as an engineer, spent time working in the newspaper industry and later on started a business transporting passenger cars from Point A to Point B. He had stories to tell about the rich people who have places along the Intercostal, including parities he’s attended and the scandals behind politicians and others who own places there that vastly exceeded the income an honest public servant should be able to afford.
Did I mention it was cold? We elected at noon time to stop at a restaurant on the Intercostal where we could moor while we ate. The Subway sandwiches we’d purchased for the trip didn’t get eaten but we had a great meal and a chance to warm up a bit.
After leaving Captain Mark and The Naked Truth we found our way to the Aventura Mall, where we joined the throng of last-minute shoppers for clothing for everyone but Nana, who I guess was on the Naughty list, although she is, as I’m sure Santa and you all know, at the top of the Nice list.
Dinner was at the Corsair restaurant again, this time with a very nice Christmas dinner featuring turkey with all the fixings, salmon and a burger big enough to challenge even Carter. And of course, we had to have a gigapretzle and the seven-layer you-know-what. Those Marriott folks know how to cook up some good grub. They know how to set a pretty impressive price point for their efforts.
During dinner I googled up a church service. Nana was prepared to watch a service recorded at the Methodist church in Sun City Center, but this one looked interesting. It was advertised as being in the Ancient Spanish Monastery, located fifteen minutes away by Uber. What’s not to like about that?
The Ancient Spanish Monastery turned out to be an Episcopalian church housed in a structure that was, indeed, once a Spanish monastery. William Randolph Hearst purchased it back in 1925, disassembled it and packed the stones in carefully numbered straw filled crates. U.S. customs, fearful of hoof and mouth disease tore the crates open, burned the straw and left the stones without their numerical designations. Hearst went broke and eventually the mess was purchased and erected in the 1950s. They make the claim that this is the oldest structure in the Western Hemisphere, having been built in 1133 AD. I suspect there are some Native structures that would challenge that claim, but whatever.
The service lasted almost two hours, testing the patience of some of our party. But Nana, and I liked it. The music featured a really good vocal quartet and a very loud organ whose bass notes in particular set every tooth a quivering. The organist was clearly pleased with himself and his ability to produce such dramatic noises.
We were back in the hotel shortly after midnight – Christmas Day – but tomorrow is a lay-back day, waiting for the Jet Blue sleigh to bring us the presence of Rebecca and her two elves, Esme and Griffin.
December 25, 2022 – Christmas at the JW Marriott
Once again, a day that didn’t go as planned. The plan? Leisurely sleep-in after the late night before, open the Santa stockings (yes, the jolly old elf slid down the elevator shaft), open presents from and to each other (everyone had one to open),the breakfast brunch, more opening (calendars) and then games, a nap and Christmas dinner. Rebeca and her friends would arrive nine-ish, in time for a good nights sleep before the 9 AM flight to Costa Rica the next morning.
Golf on the resort course? At $180 per person plus a caddy for each person ($50 plus tip) we elected to forego the pleasure. Besides, it rained off and on all day. The temperature struggled to break 50.
What could go wrong with a simple plan like that?
Nothing until Rebecca called around 1 PM, during the third hand of cards, to announce that her nonstop Jet Blue flight had just been cancelled. She and Sammy were in the car with the kids on the way to the airport. What now?
The five of us dropped our cards, grabbed our phones and hit the reservation sites. It took all of us almost two hours to find a flight going from just about anywhere to just about anywhere on the East Coast. The wave of flight cancellations over the past two days had sucked up all available seats. Nothing, nada, zip.
Reagan finally scored.. She found a flight on Breeze Air (yes, there is such a thing) going from White Planes, NY to Jacksonville, FL, departing at 6:29 PM. The only alternative we could find was a departure on Wednesday. Sammy put the car in a suborbital trajectory for White Planes. ETA? 5:50 PM. A nail biter.
Meanwhile, Jacksonville is 4+ hours north of Miami. Flights? You’ve got to be kidding. Finally we found a car service willing to send some kindly driver out in the middle of the night, for a price, to take the threesome to their hotel in Aventura.
It all worked out in the end. Rebecca and then kids got in around 2 AM. Against all odds everyone was in place for the Costa Rican adventure to begin.
