COSTA RICA LANDING
Arrival: Costa Rica at Last The ten-hour wait in New York moved slowly, the kind of slow that only airports seem capable of producing. Hours blur into each other under artificial lights, time measured by departure boards and coffee refills. At one point I stumbled upon a lounge that felt like stepping into a 1960s diner—bright lights, chrome details, and music blasting out old classics. It was oddly comforting, a little pocket of nostalgia in the middle of a very long journey. By the time my flight was finally announced, I was ready to collapse. After what felt like endless security checks, I sank into my seat and, at last, slept soundly almost the entire way. When I landed, the relief was enormous. Walking out into the warm air and seeing the woman holding the sign for my pickup felt like the final piece falling into place. My mini-bus driver greeted me with a huge smile, and we set off towards Playa Grande. The drive itself felt like an...