Most of my recent posts have been a little on the serious side, maybe even a bit pretentious. Time to lighten up and see the humorous side of things. And if you were to follow me around, for any length of time at all, you would find plenty to laugh about. Bottom line, the Universe is out to get me.
So, a couple of years ago my venerable Keen sandals finally gave up the ghost. Great sandals for the most part (expensive), but finally the sole separated from the body. This is never a good thing, when the sole departs, for what is the body without its “soul?” An historic restoration effort vis-a-vis Super Glue ultimately failed, and they were summarily discarded.
As a temporary fix I purchased a pair of flip-flops in Monterrico, Guatemala. Cheap flip-flops. Not cheap money-wise, but cheap in construction. I have never mastered the art of wearing flip-flops; I am forever walking right out of them. I look like a nerd. My ex-wife was continually chastising my inability to wear flip-flops successfully. And, alas, these also blew-up last week.
I purchased a new pair here in Samara, but the only pair available, in my large gringo-size (only USA size 10), were electric neon blue. Now everyone can see me approaching from at least a mile away—the downside. The upside is, at night, they cast a neon glow in front of me as I walk the beach. It’s like having mini-flashlights on my feet. I still look like a nerd.
A couple of days ago, while walking on the beach and holding my new flip-flops in my hand, I felt a searing pain on the inside arch of my left foot. Coral? Glass? A sharp rock? Nope, evidently there was a dying bee lying on the sand, and as luck would have it, I stepped right on top of the dang thing.
Most of us have experienced a bee sting before, and I’m not particularly allergic to them (thank God for small favors). However, I think very few of us have been stung on our tender arch. Pain, swelling and discoloration ensued. Now it just plain itches like crazy.
In Samara there is a great little place that only serves breakfast, and American-style pancakes is their specialty. Simply stated they are delicious (and relatively inexpensive). Add a couple of fried eggs (huevos a la plancha) and pan-fried potatoes (papas frito) and you’re really talking about a good breakfast.
While talking to Joel I quickly salted everything (except the pancakes of course), and then grabbed the pepper. Still motor-mouthing, as I removed the small cover to expose the smaller holes, I inadvertently removed the big cover. Without even looking I proceeded to dump about 4-inches of dark black pepper all over my eggs. Being that the eggs were fried, the pepper clung tenaciously, and was almost impossible to remove. Those were some spicy eggs to say the least
Costa Rica and the NSA
I recently had the pleasure of meeting Francisco and his partner Esther. Francisco is a fellow photog, but with a twist. He specializes in commercial aerial video and photography. He does this using a small drone.
I immediately accused him of working for the American NSA, and with a strident denial and sheepish expression he quickly looked away. Oh yeah, I think he’s NSA for sure. He is a native of Costa Rica, and is in his late 30’s. His partner, Esther, is much younger and very beautiful—but I digress.
They were down here filming a commercial for the Marriott Hotel chain, and I was able to preview some of his work. Impressive. The video from a drone is way COOL. He was gracious enough to spend some time with us flying his drone up and down Playa Samara. The range of the little craft is amazing, and the clarity of the video images is spectacular.
Again, I suspect NSA satellite technology, but he says no. He’s encouraged me to get engaged with the technology, but I foresee some problems traveling from country to country with a drone in my pack. “No, no señor policia, it is only a toy.” To which they reply: “No Señor Esteban, you are a fucking spy, and we are going to shoot you at sunrise.”
But if I ever settle down again I may consider it. It would make quite an addition to my photographic repertoire. You can get the whole enchilada for about $2,500 USD.
You can see that hardly a day goes by that I don’t experience some major weirdness in my life. I know you all think this traveling gig is easy, and I keep telling you that it’s NOT. I’m dealing with some crazy shit down here.