I greeted an old fisherman in a little turquoise boat passing under the bridge and then found myself all alone in the Reserve. The early morning tropical sun blazed as I ran up the jungle steps and stood with my heart pounding on the edge of Punta Manzanillo - watching the waves crash on the rocks.
As Otto churned towards Costa Rica, I remained in denial. I didn't buy a turkey or make any plans to get together with our Costa Rican family.
How is living in Costa Rica different from being a tourist?
Her father found out and threw her lover into the boiling hot crater of the volcano.
So you choose the least horrible one and hope for the best.