We packed the remainder of our dried clothes back into the bags, along with the dirty ones. Breakfast was leisurely. The only thing we had on schedule was to return the car to the rental location by 15:00. By Google’s estimates of 3.5 to 5.5 hours, we opted not to sit around too late.

After checking out, I ran around taking pictures of the main house. According to Max, renovations are due to start soon, which will likely change the interior, rather dramatically. Max says it’s to minimize the cost of upkeep – the resort hasn’t had much maintenance over the previous few years, which explains what we’ve seen – but it means some of the charm will go away. I don’t know if we’ll ever return, to be honest, so I want to remember the place for what it was.

The drive back out sucked.

We stopped at our favourite souvenir shop – Souvenir Mi Ranchito – which is still on the side of the road, where we’d first found it in 2004. It hasn’t changed much, and I doubt it ever will.

Though across the road has changed. The mile marker – noting 6 kilometres from San Ramon – is still there, the yellow paint still fading and cracking. But now there’s a fence behind it, and a mirador overlooking the fields. I assume to minimize the people standing at the side of the road, getting the picture. It’s definitely not the same, anymore.

Through San Ramon, and onto the road heading to the highway. Or so I thought. It was a two-lane road, so I had a clear idea in my mind that this was the road that would take us to the glorious 4-lane concrete Highway 1. But no, I had forgotten – it was Highway 1, as it appeared before the concrete rolled in. Two lanes of pockmarked asphalt, negotiating with trucks as we wound around the hills, down to the plains, going between unsafe and snail’s pace speeds.

Just like old times.

We stopped only once, at the Volcanic Strawberries store. It’s not actually volcanic strawberries – we’ve had them, and I’ve never had their equal – but it was something to eat. I wasn’t particularly hungry – a good breakfast will do that – so we got back in the car and kept on going.

The temperature seemed to rise with every few kilometres. It had been a beautiful 20C when we’d left Villa Blanca, it hit 37C somewhere around Gotera. Thankfully, the car’s AC continued to hum without issue.

Once we were back on the four-lane, we could make a much faster ride. We were in Liberia about a half hour later, necessitating a stop at the Universal. In Costa Rica, this is a department store, not a movie.

Alex was thoroughly disgusted that we were sharing luggage. I don’t know why and I didn’t want to ask. There are questions which don’t require answers, especially if they’re bound to cheese you off. This is where I’ve learned to nod, “yes, dear”, and let it go. There is no sense in starting a potential argument where no-one wins. She found a lovely little light blue suitcase. We purchased it, and then hit the road.

After dropping Alex and Choo Choo at the hotel, I went to drop the car off. We had enough time to spare that I wasn’t worried, I just didn’t want to lug any bags over. After filling up, the clerk checked, shook my hand, bade us a good flight, and I walked the two blocks back to the hotel.

Did I choose a car rental location and a hotel that were in close proximity to each other and to the airport just across the street? Yes, yes I did.

Alex and I went for a walk afterwards, not having much else to do until dinner. She’d spotted a PriceSmart not far away, so we opted to walk over and see if there was anything else we could buy and shove into our luggage. We were fairly sure PriceSmart existed when we lived here, but for the life of us, couldn’t remember what it was.

Costco. It’s bloody Costco. So we couldn’t even get in the damned door. Oy.

Dinner was a small restaurant in the so-new-it’s-not-on-Google Maps complex next to the also-not-on-Google Maps hotel, called El Meson de la Abuela. Definitely local, run by three women, with real Tico food. It seemed the right way to have our last meal.

Dessert was by the pool.