After riding my Super Sherpa for two weeks I decided to take a break for a couple days heading back from Panama. So I headed back to Uvita, Costa Rica which is paradise, and was my favorite place between Arizona and Panama. The owner of the guesthouse there had invited me back for Saturday softball with the locals. So I decided to drop by. The road up into the jungle to his place was still being worked on and the recent rain combined with the road grader had turned the red clay to gumbo. There was so much mud caked to my wheels that the friction made braking unnecessary on the steep downhills. I arrive to find the place deserted. So I spend 15 minutes cleaning off the gumbo. As I finish cleaning the bike, the nice neighbor lady drives up and offers me a ride the few miles down the hill to the softball game.
And off we go, sliding down the hill in her Toyota 4wd the few miles to town. They're choosing up sides. Mind you, I haven't put on a mitt since little league over 40 years ago. And I'm wearing my only clothes (being a minimalist) which consist of black jeans, black tee shirt and Sidi riding boots.
So they put me on first base. My first at bat I hit a line drive that scores our first two runs. HOLY COW. It's like riding a bike. The skills may be dormant but they never leave you! It was a fun game that ended in a tie. It was fun snagging wild throws at first, getting some hits and meeting the locals from Uvita.
I ended up spending a week in Uvita. Going to the waterfalls and leaning back into the force of the water as it pounds your shoulders is good therapy for a minimalist tourist. Eating home cooked meals on the terrace overlooking the jungle with views out to the ocean below. I'm not sure why I left that place.
I even ended up tiling the neighbor ladies Kitchen counter. I was invited to a neighborhood potluck dinner and met all the local American retirees. Nice bunch of folks. And the neighbor of the lady who gave me a ride to the softball game wanted me to come look at her ugly concrete counters and give her advice on what to do about them. So the next day I rode up and checked out her cool little tropical hideaway.
What a relaxing peaceful place. So I look at her ugly counters and suggest that I could tile them for her if she promised to fix me something decent to eat. So we hop in her truck and head to town. We pick up the neighbor who is a Viet Nam vet on disability who needs to go to town and get some groceries and head down to Uvita. It turns out that this guy has a tile saw. Holy cow! I was going to cut them cave man style. So we go to the lumberyard and look at their samples and nothing is in stock. So we go outside and look at the piles of tile in the corner of the yard and see what they really have. She picks out a terra cotta colored floor tile she likes, which I can make work with a little effort, and off we go. I find out that sanded grout is con arena (with sand). So I'm learning a lot.
It is pretty easy job and she's happy. I make do with what I have. No bullnose so I improvise. And she's a good cook. I had fun.
Mind you, the last job I did was tiling seven bathrooms in a 5000 sq. ft. fantasy log cabin on a huge buffalo ranch in Nebraska out in the middle of nowhere owned by a guy in Pennsylvania who was going to fly his tile guy from home on his lear jet until he met me.
Another neighbor wanted me to tile his floor, but it was time to hit the road. I just might have to head back down there. You don't need a contractors license to work down there. Just show up and do good work. There are plenty of folks down there who have figured out a way to make a living.