We were all up bright and early as we were heading off to Mi Tierra Restaurant.  It was another traditional Costa Rican restaurant and it was, yet again, lovely.  For some reason, the fresh orange juice I had sticks in my head as being the coldest and freshest drink I had ever had….not sure why it stuck in my head so much!

It was a lovely spot, giving off Texan and cowboy vibes, with wooden tables and chairs and it felt like the sort of place where they would slide drinks along the bar to you. I wouldn’t have been surprised if someone had walked in wearing chaps and spurs.

When we went to pay, there were a number of stands and stalls selling a lot of traditional and handmade sweets and other products. The wooden fountain pens were particularly delicate and impressive.  

From there, we went home for a little rest before setting off to to Natty’s parents’ house as it was her sister’s birthday. Natty’s mum had made a terrific meal for us; Caribbean chicken with all of the trimmings, including some homemade lemonade that was incredibly sweet and refreshing.

Yet again, Natty and JP were the only ones that could translate the conversations for us but we muddled through and made the best of it and the smiles, the hand gestures and the tone meant that we all understood each other well enough.  

They were incredibly welcoming and friendly, and really had pulled out all of the stops to welcome us into their home.  We helped where we could by offering to carry and serve as they really had worked so hard for the dinner and we felt very privileged.

Natty’s sister, the birthday girl, was very excited about 2 things…..her incredible cat that we all made a huge fuss over, and the fact that she was heading to Edinburgh the following year for a trip, a place that she loves.

Knowing that we also loved cats, she had made me a gift. A hand painted glass bottle with images of cats painted on it, yet again, we felt so much love and the time and effort that had gone into this absolutely blew us away. As we left, we were also handed a plate for keeping our keys on and some local sweets, akin to Blackpool rock.

I felt terrible that we had taken nothing with us and left them nothing but empty plates and a lot of dishes to wash.

We headed back to basecamp and rested up ahead of a big night.  JP had organised a five-a-side football match amongst his friends and family so that Millie could be a cheerleader, Tom could be picked up by international football scouts and so I could have a heart attack in choking tropical heat.

The pitch was at a high school down in San Jose and so we set off in the truck for match day.  The route was familiar to us now but as we turned a corner on one of the  final uphill sections before heading back down into San Jose, we saw a truck parked across the road blocking it. I joked that it was a traffic jam caused by the crowds coming to watch our game but JP wasn’t comfortable at all, I could tell.

He explained that it was either a truck belonging to one of the gangs and something bad was happing in the village just down the way, or it was the police closing the road just before or after something was about to happen. Either way, he didn’t want to be near this so quickly turned around and we found an alternative route.

It was the next morning that he found out that it was indeed the police and they had raided a house to look for guns after shots had been fired.  All very exciting and it was the very area that JP had told us that his father should not have taken us into!

The bravado was starting to build as we were all making promises about how many we would score, who would win and, in the case of the boy child, how hard he was going to kick his dad!

It was an outdoor court with a wall on one side and mesh fences on the other three. It was an AstroTurf surface and the goals were European style handball nets, so narrow and tall…..not easy to score in these bad lads!

The players had been picked from friends and family and there was a mixture of kids, teenagers, athletic dads and dads that looked like they had been on holiday with me, eating all that Costa Rica could throw at them for a few years never mind weeks!

I have spoken of this before in this journal, but football really is a universal language.  There were 12 players on the pitch and I could have predicted what sort of players they were going to be.  The guy that cared too much and shouted at everyone, the guy that didn’t care enough and laughed his way through it, the guy that is scared to go in goal, the guy that had all the gear but no idea and the guy that would sit in the bar after and tell everyone that they could have made it in the pro league if only they had been picked up!

I warned my boy child to pace himself in the heat and humidity of the evening and, like all kids, he decided that he knew best.  He scored about 6 goals in the first 5 minutes and played like prime Maradona.  But as the heat got to him, and the 12 days of self abuse and steak consumption, his pace slackened off and he resorted to kicking lumps out of the locals.

The game came to an end, just in time before Tom set off an international incident, and there were smiles and laughs and jokes as everyone recounted events from the game and gave out some gentle ribbing.  I love football.

We stopped by a convenience store next to the school to pick up some energy drinks and some snacks before making the way back up the hill.  The sweat was pooling in my trainers but there were smiles and stories flowing and I am still not sure who had the bragging rights.  Millie had spent the hour talking with one of the other daughters that had come along. She was the lass that was with us in the restaurant earlier in the week, and they had had a good old time being embarrassed by their families. 

When we got back home, there was a fight for the shower and the muscle rubs but, once that was out of the way, we were back into party mode.  Natty’s sister was continuing her birthday celebrations and we had pizzas and cake for her.  Again, it was so nice to just sit and chat and experience real local life.

In one of the nicest moments of the trip the question was asked ‘Are all English people so happy and outgoing and giving?’ That made me proud. I felt like we had all represented the country well but I am not sure what we had given as it certainly felt like we had done a lot more taking!

The other thing that came out from the family was that they were surprised that we had had a good time in Costa Rica and we were so blown away by the beauty and the surroundings.  I guess it proves that what you are surrounded with every day just becomes the normal and going to new places is part of life and part of growing.  I hoped that they would get the chance to come and visit us again at home so that we would be able to reciprocate their love and kindness.

The door is always open. Pura Vida.