As the third and final installment in the good, the bad, and the ugly series, I wanted to mention a story from a trip to Costa Rica. I write this in route from a cold, February New York City business trip where I reminisced about this specific trip with a good friend and travel companion.

In my typical fashion, the trip was planned to be low cost, but high adventure. We made our way out of San Jose and to the volcanoes for hiking and then over to the other side of Costa Rica famous for surfing, Montezuma. Although that name implies to me something entirely Mexican AND a common unpleasant traveler’s experience (Montezuma’s revenge), Montezuma, Costa Rica in neither Mexican nor unpleasant. Montezuma is a beautiful beach area with a spectacular national park nearby.

Having found a small shared room with two beds within walking distance from the beach, we were as happy as could be…days at the beach, a brief walk to freshen up, and nights drinking beer with the locals at the beach side bar; however, that is except for one minor detail…mosquitoes.

From previous posts, you now know where this may be leading as I am a bug magnet. The area was tropical, humid and surrounded by rain forests filled with howler monkeys, sloths, and beautiful birds, making a great environment for mosquitoes.
Having mosquito netting on the beds for covering, screened in windows, and mosquito repellent, the mosquitoes still got us. The heat, humidity, and buzzing mosquitoes led to sleepless nights of cooling off with damp towels and swatting the mosquito invaders.

Not to my surprise, my body was the target of a siege. I awoke with over a hundred of bites all inflamed, projecting heat, and well itching like hell. Indeed, I was tolerant, but I certainly didn’t feel that great. Having that many bites would cause anyone to feel like they had a fever and I definitely did have one…could it have been malaria (??)…..possibly, but as you know I survived to write about it.

So here are Ms. Traveling Pants’ the good, the bad, and the ugly tips about going to the tropics:
1) Be careful with citrus juices in the sun
2) Be curious about plants has it dangers
3) Be prepared with mosquito netting, repellent, and malaria kit

As the second component of the good, the bad, and the ugly, I must share a trip to meet my in-laws.

Nearly ten years ago and after only six months of dating, my now husband and I made plans to visit his family in Minas Gerais, an interior agricultural state of Brazil.

Upon my arrival, my handsome Admilson, was awaiting me outside the gate. Having very few options in arriving to his small town, we left the Belo Horizonte airport in a cab for a very lengthy ride, approximately 3 hours if uneventful.

The scenery was lush, mountainous and of course pleasant as I was in good hands. However, after a long flight in an exit row without the option of reclining, all I wanted was a couch, shower, and well something other than the somehow always tasteless food you get on planes.

As we approached his hometown of Fernandez Torinho, the paved roads changed to dirt roads. The ride became rather bumpy with large ruts from the rainy season causing the small taxi to bottom out upon occasion. Unfortunately, it happened one too many times as we lost the oil pan and could not continue with the cab. Only one mile from the house, we contemplated waiting for assistance. However, after almost twenty-four hours of travel, I was getting hungry and thus impatient. For those of you that know me, when hungry I can be rather nasty.

We settled the tab, took my bags in tote, and arrived at his mother’s home on foot. It was a small, whitewashed home surrounded by hundreds of acres of tropical plants many of which I had not seen; plus, there were chickens, a pony and cart, cats, a lazy dog, and a brother’s dirt bike. From a large family, the introduction was like a casting call Elaine, Ezelaine, Elzamar, Edna, Adnilson, Ailson for a total of nine (almost all of which have now moved to the states). His mother, Ideir, was very quiet and reserved, but probably just protective of her son who just brought home an American; probably not what she was praying for.

The following day is where the good, the bad, and the ugly come into play. That morning, Admilson took me to explore their house and surrounding lands. I believe the first very plant I found was a guanabana tree (or soursop in English). Growing up in Wisconsin, this would never be something you would encounter in the supermarket or in the wild. Curiosity killed the cat as they say and a “moribundo” or wasp stung me right on the nose. I, of course, started dancing around; swatting the damn wasp, but it was too late. As reference, I am not allergic to wasp or bee stings to the point of near death, but to a level that I would call, “death warmed over.”

Despite the ice, aspirin, and elevation of my head, I, the newly introduced wife-to-be, had a swollen face as round as a ball. Admilson tried various times to take a picture, but it was made very clear that he would find an early death for any documentation of my misery and frightening appearance. The brothers and sisters already shy and skittish disappeared that is except the youngest girl, Edna. Maybe she wasn’t afraid or she too was curious.

After two days of living like a monster, being judged only on my ugly appearance since my Portuguese was limited, I was living a nightmare. Finally, I couldn’t be stoic any more. I needed medicine. I knew that if someone went into town, which was a fifteen minute ride on the dirt bike, they could get some good anti-inflammatory drugs….only the kind you get outside of the U.S. without a prescription. And after two and a half days of suffering as “ballface,” I was transformed back to the lovely, American who was still stealing one of my mother-in-law’s sons.

So the good, the bad, and in this case UGLY was the cause of yet another fruit…this time not a lime but by my curiosity to know more about guanabana.

When one thinks of travel, you smile of the new places, sounds, smells, tastes and adventure. The truth is that many aspects of travel can be the bad and ugly that I reference in the title. I plan on giving you a small series of some of those experiences to give you a taste of the quote I live by that, “Every occasion in life can be categorized either as a good time or good story.”

The good, the bad, and the ugly of travel…..Part 1

I must have been mid to late high school and lucky enough to have a father that was a college professor; thus, we had similar Spring breaks. Depending on the year, we traveled to Cancun, Zihautanejo (my favorite), Isla de las Mujeres and others. Regardless of where we went this particular year, it was always tradition to go beaching and by lunch it was time for margaritas.

Having little experience with alcohol at the time, one Mexican margarita prepared by the “hopeful bartender” made the place even more paradise. The so called siesta that was rumored about was definitely called for. One day upon returning to the hotel, I noticed that I had a large red area on my leg. I had done a little walking through paths around the beach, but nothing out of the ordinary. However, it appeared to be as if I had ran into a poisonous plant but in the shape of a hand print.

To this day I am surprised that I hadn’t put two and two together. It turns out that one or two margaritas and the juice of the limes I wiped on my leg had accelerated the sunbathing process. Thinking back on this, as a brunette from Wisconsin, I had used Sun-In, a hair lightener made with lemon juice or something like it,with my friends to appear blond. Why did I not remember that citrus juices do that?

The following day the areas were burnt and upon return to the States, the areas had gone through a scary color change; the smudged hand print on my right upper thigh was the color of milk chocolate. Very concerned about the rash, we went to the local clinic in La Crosse. The reaction of the doctors was unforgettable. You would have thought it was a holiday. “I have never seen something like this before. Get the others” said my doctor. And in came a handful of students and cameras. They questioned me, took various shots with the camera, told me that my photos would be in the next dermatologists reference book, and then said that this was the best case of lime juice stain they had ever seen.

I guess I didn’t care if they had seen it or not, I was a high schooler concerned about looking different. I just wanted them to help me get back to my regular color. So, they prescribed something called skin bleach. Now you have to remember that this was also around the time of Michael Jackson and his continual lightening of his skin. I couldn’t believe that I was doing something similar to the King of Pop.

Word to the wise. Not all travel is fun. There are times that are bad or in this case ugly. Beware of lime juice or any citrus for that matter in the sun. And when in Mexico, be safe…just drink beer.