The town of Atenas, Costa Rica, was determined to have the best climate in the world.
National Geographic did a study some years ago and determined this to be true. I believe it because every bus in town says so:”Mejor Clima del Mundo”(Best climate in the world) is written on the side, back, probably on the roof as well, in case you are passing by in a small plane.
Our favorite local bar/restaurant is named … yup, Mejor Clima. It’s the “Cheers” of Atenas; family run, great food, and cheap enough drinks. When I walk through the door, my glass of wine is being poured as I wiggle onto my favorite bar stool. Once in a while, I feel like a beer, but don’t have the heart to disappoint the bar-keep, be it the son, the sister, or niece who happens to be on duty. We enjoy them all; they are hard-working, pleasant, and anxious to please.
A few nights ago, with my hubby, Don, being out of the country on a work assignment, I was to meet Lynn and Lucas, our dear friends and Roca Verde neighbors. As I entered my wine was poured by Ivania, pictured here with some friends helping her at work. I sat at the bar in my usual spot. L ‘n L arrived and took their regular seats next to me. A couple of friends from their work-place showed up and it was a party!
The drinks kept coming as we made plans to go to the Friday night karaoke in a nearby barrio (neighborhood) famous for its local, traditional music. Edgar, one of our tico friends, promised to copy a disc with Spanish songs on it so Don could practice at home before his debut at La Fortuna, the karaoke bar. Don’s Spanish is limited and singing in the native language is going to be a challenge. I would volunteer to help him, but everybody who has heard me sing says I should stick to dancing!
After we made merry, ate ceviche and chicharones until we were stuffed, the bill was paid, and good-byes were said, I carefully picked my way home. As I approached our well-lit entry patio, I noticed the “perfect climate” had blown some dried leaves in. I picked up a handful on my way to the front door intending to deposit them in the trash. I jumped to the ceiling as one of the “leaves” started fluttering madly to escape my grip. I released it immediately and squatted down to see what had been making the fuss. I thought maybe somebody had slipped a little LSD or psilocybin into my chardonnay, and it was all in my head, but that would never happen at Mejor Clima. One of the “leaves” was a giant moth! If I were him, or her, or it, I would have been upset, too. I quietly went into the casita and wondered if the “perfect climate” breeze would carry it all away by morning. From now on I will let sleeping leaves lie!