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I had the trip all planned.  But I still had the last four days in Costa Rica to account for.  In all my years of travel, I have never bought a ticket (let alone four) for a flight, month’s in advance, to find out later, though still month’s in advance, that it had been cancelled.  Air China will not be flying that flight that day.  The flight you bought the ticket for no longer exists.  You can get a refund, or we’ll put you on the same flight two days later.  The fact that that I had bought four such tickets through a service called “Cheapo Air” was not reassuring.  Digging in, it appeared to be an Air China call however, which I could try to get a refund on, or just deal with. 

So we’ll fly back two days later.  Miraculously I got all the connecting flights switched ahead of time, as well.  So we’re good.    I’ve meant to make time for weeks to plan for these extra days, but only got down to it the other night.  The only merciful thing to do after bringing three ladies up volcanoes, across borders, into the jungle, into many, many churches and museums, would be to allow for some days on the beach somewhere.  I began to look into it and quickly discovered that four places in a row were sold out.  I instinctively cursed the four hundred million new middle class Chinese who were invariably traveling like me for Lunar New Year.  Upon reflection, (and examination) it’s more likely the gringgos  fault . It’s President’s day weekend. 

Last night I reviewed.  The Pacific coast down near Quepos, is only two hours from the capital, San Jose.  I sifted through the places.  That expensive?  Too cheap.  Too far from the beach.   The Hotel Mariposa was afforded high praise.  The photos were remarkable.  The near by town, compelling.  Post card beach.  Remarkable forest.  OK, OK.   It will invariably be sold out. 

I looked for where to call as I’d done with a half a dozen other places in Nicaragua, the week before.  “Start a chat with one of our staff.”  A link, caught my eye.  (I looked just now, and couldn’t find it on the site, which seems odd.)  Soon I was texting with a woman named Marissa.   They provided a photo of her smiling face and without too much trouble she upsold me on different dates than I wanted.   It will mean a painfully early departure the last night to catch a plane but the rest of it should be grand.  

I said thanked Marissa and wound down the conversation.  Her photo continued to smile at me, throughout.  She sent me a form to fill out and I noticed her surname was Chen.  She had, in fact looked Chinese, aside from her lips, which had a large, mestizo quality.   I hadn’t anticipated much of a Chinese presence in either country, beyond the billionaire who wants to build the new canal.  But the diaspora is fathomless and appears to have cast the honorable surname Chen, over there in Ouepos.  Perhaps she can tell us more abut the story, when we're there.