Pura Vida

We arrived into 'Liberia International Airport', a quaint airport smaller than Ogden's. We walked off the plane, onto the runway and into an open building that was once a hangar. There were two ceiling fans about 12 feet in diameter moving air through the corrugated roofed customs building. We got through customs and onto our rental car where there were hammocks in the waiting area We loaded our car and headed down the road toward Tamarindo. We drove through the rolling countryside that was interspersed with agriculture fields with cattle, sugar cane, and forested areas. 

Leslie and I hadn't eaten, so we decided to stop at the first store to grab some food. We pulled off the main road and into a parking lot with potholes the size of our car. As Tom navigated around potholes, past people and near the storefront. The store was about the size of our living room, we looked as out of place as we felt. We grabbed some pastries and chips and a couple drinks. As we walked out, I looked up and saw a truck with soldiers with machine guns parked in the same area that Tom was in. It was a sober reminder that we weren't in Utah anymore.