Costa Rica Day 10

My mate T totally called me out on her vlog. LOL Other than the video of the flat, I hadn't blogged about life in Costa Rica. She wanted to know what it was like living here. I must admit. I've been busy and lazy. A strange mix.

I made my escape from the UAE on January 13th. I was supposed to leave on the 12th, but a mechanical problem with the plane delayed take off for 24 hours. I headed strait to London. I had to get my head together. I had to get hugs. I had to get a meal! LOL My mum Ms. Tsang cooked for me. But that was my second meal of the day. As the plane taxied to Heathrow terminal 5 I got giddly. Happy even. I was "home". Finally on familiar soil. Familiar people. No disrespect to my neighbours in the Easter Flats or my mate K from NYC - but there is something about having your mates in your home town or the real world that makes it a bit different. There is no desperately trying to make home in hell. Nothing to cling to out of necessity. I feel for BandV, P and K who are still navigating their way thru Dante's 8th Circle of hell. It was an interesting place to visit. But God - yes the One True God (whistles girl from ipanema waiting for the text or email from the first geek who gets that) knows you wouldn't want to live there.

I flounced my way thru the airport. Terminal 5 is not as bad as I had envisioned it. Before I had even gathered my luggage (two moderately heavy large pieces) I had sent several texts and a petulant phone call inquiring about my breakfast plans. Yes, I AM a little princess and my needs had to be met! Pronto!!!! I stored all my luggage and carry ons in Terminal 1's left luggage offices. L8 per piece per 24 hour cycle - word of warning. THEY DO NOT PRORATE. SO EVEN IF YOU ARE LIKE 10 MINUTES INTO THE SECOND DAY YOU STILL HAVE TO PAY THE FULL PRICE!!!! I took a taxi from Terminal 5 to Terminal 1. The first time in like 15 years of traipsing thru London I've taken a taxi! What an experience! LOL They are quite spacious inside! I took a picture. LOL

Anyways. I soon slunk back to more familiar undergrounds. I was headed to way North London. A place with loads of trees and not much traffic sound. A place with rolling hills. A place called Enfield (cue scary music) But hell, promises of sausages and bacon and eggs and proper tea awaited me and I was willing to go anywhere for a free meal! First true - *sigh* moment... So when you get out of the tube at Hammersmith and have to change lines, you actually have to go outside (oooohhhhh) and cross the street. I don't know what it is about his intersection Hammersmith Road/King St/Shepards Bush: It's like a psychic centre or something. But I felt an overwhelming sense of peace. Yes, at 8 in the morning, rush hour, on a busy main street/tube stop in London.... a sense of peace and serenity. I've only had call to cross this street maybe 4 or 5x in my life. It's on the "wrong" side of town. LOL So there is very little call to be there. But every time I AM there; I get this weird peaceful feeling. Peace in a cacophonous din of movement and life.

I savored it for a light change and plunged headlong into the throng. I had food waiting on me! Another tube ride and a private train carrier later and I was deposited somewhere ... north... yeah.... with trees and a creek .... and geese poo on the sidewalk. Quaint. But hell, there was a Tesco's and Tesco's carries sausage and bacon and bounty bars and DR. PEPPER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! so I was a happy camper! And my almost but quite totally unlike chef companion was a happy sight as well. That is, until, he announced, he was not. I emphatically repeat. NOT. cooking me breakfast. . . . . I let him live. He owes me money.

My NEW chef - and bestest friend (hey, I CAN be bought) was an older and more groovy version of my almost but not quite totally unlike chef. The one who CAN cook. And quite well. I don't know if it was because I was back in the promised land near "my" city or because it was real and true pork or if it was the sofa! All I know is that was the best breakfast I had eaten in six months. I'm not sure I breathed. After gorging myself on pork product and proper tea, I settled on the sofa and did not leave until it was almost 5pm. It was the mixture of what happens when you bring a stray dog out of the rain and feed them and the cute and lovable house guest that won't leave - because you keep feeding them or just being around groovy people and comfy sofas and loads and loads of Metallica music..... I.WAS.HOME.

My day only got better as I took the A train (not really, but I wanted to plant that song in your head) to Liverpool St. to meet the other half of myself and then make the long trek east to a place with even more trees and rolling hills (where old soap stars go to die) and another great meal by a great person!

Essex. Mama Tsang. And an endless bowl of rice and dead animal!!!!!!!!!!! OMG this is food made with motherly love. And I can not stress the importance of having a mother that pours her heart into her cooking. It makes you do the happy chair dance. Did I mention that I was home? By this time of the night all the craziness and vileness of the past six months had melted away. Unlike the snow and ice on the ground. It is calming and warm to know when you are where you are supposed to be with people with whom you are supposed to be with.

Tomorrow - back to Jersey. Back to my nephew. Back to the twins. Back to Goldy and Casey. Welcome Back.....


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