I got a room with a jacuzzi tub and sushi from room service. Altogether $100. Fuck it. I’m spent. Face and shoulders sunburned. Everything hurts: legs, back, everything. That walk yesterday. That walk! A painful memory, but not a failure! I made it. Set out through the jungle for the farm and found it. Thank God that extortionist had a boat to bring me back to Viejo. Terrifying to imagine hiking back through that muck. Would I be able to stand? Be confined to a clinic? No dwelling, sushi to eat.
Costa Rica is Florida of Central America. The sushi is a little bland. Feeling restless. Want to quit, go home, get married, never think about travel again. Ha! I should list all the eligible women. What if they get engaged by the time I return? Have to start over then. Maybe email them all, ask if they would ever marry me. Can’t imagine a more disingenuous act. I can, but still pretty evil. Yet, I’m curious. Get them together, stage a battle royale. Me, Harold of Troy. But then I’d be afraid of whoever won.
A shot of bamboo wine. Ready for bed. Still hungry. At the farm a small girl asked me if I was fat. Was she being polite? Was she confused? I showed her my gut. She said “gross” then asked to see it again. I asked her to guess my age. She guessed 28. Probably the march made me look six months older.