My Theory

I'm developing a theory. Now I haven't finalised it yet you understand. But I'm testing hypotheses, eliminating variables, all that kind of stuff. Comes from being around Rachel. So far the theory goes that "the people shovelling the most food into their mouths in the restaurant are the ones with the longest, sourest faces". Of course it could be that the people with the longest faces are the ones shovelling the most food, or perhaps that the ones shovelling the most food are the fattest, and therefore the unhappiest. Anyway I'm working on it.

The thing is, I'm really surprised. We're at a five star resort. Everything is free. You can dine, drink and party 24 hours a day. You have the beach, six pools, countless activities. The sun is sparkling on the ocean, at least for the next four hours until the weather becomes iffy. There's a wonderful country to explore. And yet you see people queueing for the restaurants to open, shovelling mountains of food into their mouths, then sitting there with long faces waiting for dinner to come around. Perhaps there's a palm tree blocking their view of the mountains. Perhaps they missed getting Justin Bieber tickets. I really don't know. Maybe it all starts with the 6 year old kid I saw at breakfast who piled his plate with crispy bacon, covered it with a layer of waffles, then poured maple syrup generously over the whole lot. A muffin top and long face in the making.

Anyway, I'll keep you posted as I refine my theory. Meanwhile, we don't have sour faces. It was our day to stay at the resort and do the all-inclusive activities. We started with a long walk along the beach before breakfast, and watched the crabs scurry along after the fish. The guy came to the door to replenish our bottles of rum, vodka and gin. We tried to fit in a swim, a stretching class, a Spanish class, and water aerobics, before being rushed into the restaurant for lunch in order to be ready when the scuba diving lesson begins. Or perhaps it was just Mandy trying to do all of that. Anyway, it really doesn't matter does it?

An update on last night. The 'Tropical Latino' show seemed to consist of everybody singing YMCA led on stage by a Costa Rican with a Tina Turner wig. Strangely enough the words to YMCA in Spanish seem to be ... umm YMCA. Who would have thought.

Mandy survived her scuba lesson, and rather surprisingly didn't find any fish at the bottom of the pool. She really enjoyed the experience, but isn't sure that she'd ever go out into the ocean.

Tonight our reservation was at the Steak Restaurant. Think I've got a new export market for St George. It was a lovely meal, but we've been well and truly spoilt over the last few months.

During dinner the weather changed from iffy to downright monsoonal, so we vacated our table for the second sitting to be prepared, and sat in the corner and played 500 with a packet of cards that miraculously appeared out of Brendan's back pocket, until it eased back to just heavy rain. Who takes cards to dinner in a pair of shorts? Obviously someone who knows Costa Rican weather better than I.

Retired early in preparation for our big day tomorrow.