Rosemary Leach

It’s happy hour at a beachside restaurant and I am drinking a spectacular Margarita, chatting with Irene. She sticks out in this beach town; late thirties, fleshy belly and bikini top with a leather skirt, and a low-slung army belt with lots of ammunition pouches. She has a tattoo that covers half her back and a sunny disposition. Irene and her pal are in Montezuma ‘following the festival circuit’. The party was at their place last night and tonight some guy with a manison up

When I was 20 I travelled for six months; West Africa, India, Thailand, Malaysia. 26 years later, with a family van and some soccer mom years under my belt, I find myself hiking alone up the waterfall in Montezuma, Costa Rica. I passed the “Don’t go alone. Flash floods!” sign. A very skinny 70 year old New Yorker (who hadn’t ventured the hike) had earlier assured me it was too dry for floods. She must know. Half way up the mountain I find a stunning waterfall and a clear pool

On my solo trip to Costa Rica, because of a storm in Dallas, I ended up spending 18 hours in Miami. Flying into the city I saw for the first time a vast swath of city, canals or reservoirs, precariously set two inches above sea level. I decided to fill my time by taking the $2 “Flyer” bus to South Beach. Standing in the crowded bus I chatted with a seated 70 year old pink button down New Yorker/Miami resident. I asked him if he had any places he and his daughter? (nope, girlf