Costa Rica was great and I highly recommend it to anyone especially in lieu of Mexico if you are one of those people who always vacation south of the border. There are tons of things to do in Costa Rica and while my favorite activity is sitting on my ass by the pool or ocean reading US with a Margarita or Bloody Mary, I decided to venture out into the great wilderness of Costa Rica.
My husband, niece, sister and I all headed out to Zip Line, or as I like to call it, 'Dry Enema in Mid Air followed by wedgie and terminal crick in the neck.' Flying through the rain forest like Peter Brady on Celebrity Circus was actually quite fun even for someone who doesn't like heights, however I have never sweated more in my life and apparently neither had our friendly tour guides whose body odor was a compilation of every stinky cab driver I have ever been exposed to in my life - combined. One guide in particular was very fond of me and wanted to adjust my 'gear' quite often. I just had to hold my breath and grin and bear it. We later saw some white-faced monkeys and toucans, however this adventure made me realize that I was for sure not cut out to be a contestant on Survivor. Luckily there were cold beers waiting for us at the end of the day.
The next day my sister wanted to go on another adventure an hour and a half away which I was not on board with since I get car sick and again who would watch over the pool and pool bartender in my absence? My 15-year old niece also vetoed the excursion as it would require her to get out of bed before 11:00 am. Instead, we all settled on horseback riding. We went to a nearby Eco camp and as we rode off I thought, "Shit it is hot," however we went to the top of a mountain and the breeze felt great and the view was incredible. I have only ridden a horse maybe two other times in my life and my husband kept calling me Annie Oakley. I am sure I looked like a complete jackass on this horse/donkey(?) in my Chanel sunglasses and Ed Hardy tee shirt.
Twenty minutes had passed and my ass was unbelievably sore. No one pointed out that I should occasionally stand up on the stirrups and not sit on the saddle like it was a Lay Z Boy recliner. My ass continued to throb as we went up a hill and my horse decided to channel Secretariat and took off like a bat out of hell over the mountain. Roars of laughter from my family ensued as I rode the horse sideways and jiggled from every part of my body. After 16 "Holy Shits" the horse finally slowed down. We headed for the beach for the final stretch of my ass lobotomy thinking there is no way I am not bleeding out my ass. When I got off the horse I could barely walk and felt like I had been caned.
I knew the outdoors and I didn't mix well when we headed back in the van an my eyeball turned red and swelled shut a la Will Smith in the movie "Hitch". A red welt also appeared on my chin which itched like a face hemorrhoid. I rubbed the shit out of my eye, smearing mascara and eyeliner across my face. Luckily I brought allergy pills - which created a great buzz along with the ice cold beer waiting for me by the pool bar.