May 25, 2004

mugged by a mango

Yesterday was a bright, sunny day with no rain. The view of the volcano was breathtaking. I loafed around the pool most of the morning, then took a nice siesta around noon.

After that, I walked to the town of Fortuna, where I ate some of the best grilled sea bass with steamed vegetables, black beans and rice and fresh fruit that I've ever tasted. Price of the meal: 2,200 colones, and that's counting two Imperial cervesas. (about $5.25 total) I strolled around town for a while, bought a couple of T-shirts, then went to listen to some Spanish karioke in a small bar. By the time I walked out of there, night had fallen. I hailed a cab for a ride home.

My cabinito was at the end of a long, curved walkway through all kinds of vegetation. I wasn't drunk, but I was more lit-up than that walkway. It was as dark as the backside of the moon. I was fishing in my pocket for my room key when all of a sudden, I heard a rustle in the bushes and... WHACK! Something hit me on top of my head hard enough to make me see lights that weren't there.

My first thought was that a thief was trying to rob me. I received an adrenalin rush that made every hair on my body stand on end, and primitive Fight or Flight instincts took over. I ducked, whipped around to my left and came up with my right fist ready to strike.

But there was nothing to strike.

All I saw was a big, fat mango rolling lazily down the walkway. That sumbitch had fallen out of a tree as I walked under it and hit me square in the noggin.' I almost shit my pants when that happened. I looked around quickly to make sure that no one was rolling off a nearby porch in hysterical laughter; then, I grabbed the mango and hurled it off into the jungle.

Bejus! Beware here. Costa Rica is supposed to be pretty crime-free, but I was attacked by a piece of FRUIT.