It was another laidback afternoon in Santa Elena. I went to lunch and ate an enormous meal, which I followed with a trip to the supermercado to purchase cookies, ice cream, and beer. When I returned to the hotel at 2:15, I stationed myself in the lounge with my snacks, my forty of Imperial (Costa Rican beer), and a book. The book, however, became unnecessary, as I ended up spending over two hours chatting with a perfectly amusing Irish girl over beer, cookies, and cigarettes.
When the beer was gone and my hunger started to get the better of me, I headed to the kitchen to make tortillas for dinner. They tasted decent but had the consistency of complete shit, so I took the suggestion of a few other guests and made a replica of our hotel out of the remaining dough. A particularly dry and sassy British guy was in the kitchen to witness this charade and after a number of kindly mocking comments from him, I embarked upon making an unflattering sculpture of his head (pictures to follow). Both pieces of art were well-received and are on display in the hotel lounge, and I am seriously thinking of quitting my day job.
I am taking a bus to Playa Tamarindo at 8am tomorrow morning to learn how to drown surf and explore the Pacific beaches. And then I am going to buy a little shack on the beach and live happily ever after with my pet sloths. The end.