Page 43 - issue
P. 43
Costa Rica
a gravel road full of huge potholes – this is where the SUV Accelerating the Pace of Change ©WWW
came in handy. The beach was surrounded by tiny shops or
booths. There was a tourism office that wasn’t helpful, but Evidence-Based Treatment for Children and Adolescents
one of the tourists tipped us off that at the end of this dirt Anxiety, Behavior, Depression & Trauma
road we would find what we’re looking for. So we drove on, Parenting Techniques with Proven Results
and just towards the end of the road, a lonely beach beck-
oned. I parked the vehicle. It wasn’t totally isolated, but there Momentumcounseling@outlook.com
was an empty piece of beach right in front of us. The waters 443-756-4648
were a mechaye (pleasure). I couldn’t believe that it was
January and I was at the beach. My companion did not look Evening and Sunday appointments
very happy. This was not his idea of adventure. He got bored
pretty quickly. After a while, I exited the water and we walked
along the beach, enjoying the way the water splashed against
the rocks (although you can get even better view in Israel,
near Rosh Hanikra)!
Back at the hotel, we dined on sardines and more noo-
dles. Then, just before sunset, we went to the beach and
shot some photos of the setting sun. Being so close to the
equator, it’s easy to tell when it will be sunset. Whatever
hour sunrise is, sunset is 12 hours later.
◆◆◆
The next morning was Friday. We davened early, then
rushed out to the beach to catch some good photo ops
before the throngs arrived. We packed and were ready to
head back to San Jose. We knew it would be a 180-kilometer
trip taking three hours, but entering “San Jose” on the GPS
yielded nothing. WAZE registered nothing as well. I stopped
and tried to get directions to San Jose. For some reason, no
one was able to help us. I looked at the map. Basically, we
had to travel north on Route 34 until we got to the next con-
necting highway to San Jose. The next biggest town on the
road was Jaco, but even that didn’t bring up a response from
either the GPS or WAZE. So we snaked through the winding
streets of Quepos trying to get to the coastal Rt. 34 to the
best of our ability, hoping, at least, that we would be able to
tell north from south. Eventually, we got to 34, and after driv-
ing about 45 minutes, saw the first sign pointing to San Jose.
Baruch Hashem!
Once we got to within 45 minutes of our destination,
Hotel del Rincon, the WAZE kicked in and navigated us
through the tricky maze of exits and highways. One thing I
wasn’t expecting was the number of toll booths on this pri-
vately-operated highway! Luckily, I had just enough change
in my pocket.
We arrived at the hotel and left our luggage. We got per-
mission from the rental company to keep the car another
hour, and went to the restaurant that had earlier made the
dinners for us that were supposed to be frozen but weren’t.
The owner apologized for his mistake and offered us lunch
on the house. Then he shared an interesting personal story
with me. He was originally from Columbia, working in the
food business. His son was kidnapped for ransom by a con-
sortium of two policemen, a general, and some NARC
u 410 358 8509 u 35
a gravel road full of huge potholes – this is where the SUV Accelerating the Pace of Change ©WWW
came in handy. The beach was surrounded by tiny shops or
booths. There was a tourism office that wasn’t helpful, but Evidence-Based Treatment for Children and Adolescents
one of the tourists tipped us off that at the end of this dirt Anxiety, Behavior, Depression & Trauma
road we would find what we’re looking for. So we drove on, Parenting Techniques with Proven Results
and just towards the end of the road, a lonely beach beck-
oned. I parked the vehicle. It wasn’t totally isolated, but there Momentumcounseling@outlook.com
was an empty piece of beach right in front of us. The waters 443-756-4648
were a mechaye (pleasure). I couldn’t believe that it was
January and I was at the beach. My companion did not look Evening and Sunday appointments
very happy. This was not his idea of adventure. He got bored
pretty quickly. After a while, I exited the water and we walked
along the beach, enjoying the way the water splashed against
the rocks (although you can get even better view in Israel,
near Rosh Hanikra)!
Back at the hotel, we dined on sardines and more noo-
dles. Then, just before sunset, we went to the beach and
shot some photos of the setting sun. Being so close to the
equator, it’s easy to tell when it will be sunset. Whatever
hour sunrise is, sunset is 12 hours later.
◆◆◆
The next morning was Friday. We davened early, then
rushed out to the beach to catch some good photo ops
before the throngs arrived. We packed and were ready to
head back to San Jose. We knew it would be a 180-kilometer
trip taking three hours, but entering “San Jose” on the GPS
yielded nothing. WAZE registered nothing as well. I stopped
and tried to get directions to San Jose. For some reason, no
one was able to help us. I looked at the map. Basically, we
had to travel north on Route 34 until we got to the next con-
necting highway to San Jose. The next biggest town on the
road was Jaco, but even that didn’t bring up a response from
either the GPS or WAZE. So we snaked through the winding
streets of Quepos trying to get to the coastal Rt. 34 to the
best of our ability, hoping, at least, that we would be able to
tell north from south. Eventually, we got to 34, and after driv-
ing about 45 minutes, saw the first sign pointing to San Jose.
Baruch Hashem!
Once we got to within 45 minutes of our destination,
Hotel del Rincon, the WAZE kicked in and navigated us
through the tricky maze of exits and highways. One thing I
wasn’t expecting was the number of toll booths on this pri-
vately-operated highway! Luckily, I had just enough change
in my pocket.
We arrived at the hotel and left our luggage. We got per-
mission from the rental company to keep the car another
hour, and went to the restaurant that had earlier made the
dinners for us that were supposed to be frozen but weren’t.
The owner apologized for his mistake and offered us lunch
on the house. Then he shared an interesting personal story
with me. He was originally from Columbia, working in the
food business. His son was kidnapped for ransom by a con-
sortium of two policemen, a general, and some NARC
u 410 358 8509 u 35
