No Room at the Inn
But we're no Mary and Joseph!
As I was writing this, I thought it might be fun for you to read 2 versions of this story. So, I asked Mark to write his account as well. You will see my version first and then his! Although we have mostly fond memories of our adventure in Costa Rica, this was one event that challenged our marriage! (P.S. We are still happily married for 32 years even despite all this! Haha)
Marlo’s Side of the Story
When we moved to the hotel, we did not designate a hotel room specifically for us. Maybe we hadn’t given it much thought before we moved there, but I sure gave it a lot of thought after we moved there!
In August and September 2017, the hotel was not very occupied, so we stayed in each of the rooms for a week or so each. This gave us the benefit of really learning each accommodation and its unique qualities, and the chance to ‘see’ what a guest would experience and identify the need for any maintenance or other issues.
While we did this, we just simply moved our things from room to room. We didn’t bring much with us to Costa Rica - we each had a roll-aboard suitcase, yoga mats, and some extra shoes.
There was a small, flat part of our property that was not being used. We thought we might, eventually, build something small for us and our college-aged kids for when they’d visit. I thought it should have a small kitchen and a small pool, and we could rent it out as a hotel villa when we weren’t there.
What’s the saying? The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. And awry they went!
As you know that dang perfect storm, really changed the trajectory of our plans.
Between August 2017 and the start of the re-construction in July 2018, Mark and I moved hotel rooms so many times I lost count. I never unpacked my roll-aboard suitcase. I just fished clothes out every day, zipped it back up, and went about my day. Day to day to day…I joked to my friends in the U.S. that I was living out of a suitcase for a year! It really does help you realize though how little you need!
No Room at the Inn
As we approached the holidays and our first high season, the hotel filled up with guests. (Yay for the bank account!) Because we now had less rooms, we had to constantly move around.
February and March were the busiest months-smack in the middle of high season in Costa Rica. As guests would come and go and we needed to get rooms ready for the next guest, there were times our luggage would be ‘stored’ in the laundry room or the trunk of our car until we had a place to sleep.
A few times the hotel was completely full, and we had no room at the inn for us.
Sometimes we’d take a mini-trip and ‘secret shop’ other hotels in the area. But still, we had the best hotel in the area (yes, I’m very biased!) and we had to pay to stay at these other hotels.
I was getting a little tired, to say the least, of not having a place to myself, of not feeling settled, and paying to stay somewhere else?!! I needed some space-my own space.
The Incident
One time in the middle of high season we were full and needed to leave-again! Scrambling to find a room for the night, I contacted some neighbors who owned The Ledge, the cabinas down our road. We barely knew this couple but had met them briefly as their Cabinas opened around the time we moved to the mountain.
I explained our situation to the owner, Michelle, and asked if they had an available room that we could rent for the night. I told her we only needed the room to sleep, we didn’t need much else. We’d come later in the evening after our hotel’s dinner and leave early the next morning so that we could get back in time for our staff’s arrival and prep for breakfast.
Michelle and her partner lived at The Ledge but told us that they wouldn’t be there for the night. She gave us a discounted room rate, told us which Cabina to use and that the door would be unlocked. Again, paying for a hotel room when we had our own hotel was very frustrating, but hopefully temporary.
After all our hotel guests went to bed and the staff had left for the evening, Mark and I drove down the mountain to The Ledge. When we arrived, we were surprised to find that the gate to the property had been closed - and locked.
Not great. We tried to open the gate. Nothing. I sent Michelle a WhatsApp message. Nothing. We ‘rang’ the property doorbell. Nothing. No one was there.
By this time, my patience was very thin.
Then, Mark had an idea. (Ok, yes, again, another idea. Not quite as crazy as some of his other ideas, but geez, why do I keep going along?) He said, “I think we’re going to have to climb the fence over there.”
Um, what? An 8 foot or so high metal fence that’s adjacent to this giant wood gate? I looked at him and said, “You know I’m wearing a dress, right?”
He said, “It’ll be easy. I’ll throw over our bag and I’ll climb over, then you climb over.”
Ah huh. I said, “I’d rather sleep in the car!” “Nope”, he said, “we can do it.”
So, with that, he threw our bags over the fence and started climbing. Boom, he was over.
“Ok, your turn”, he said.
I wanted to leave him there, get back in the car and be done with this moving around business.
Now my patience was very, very thin.
“Marlo”, he said. “Let’s go.” (with a frustrated at me tone in his voice)
Ugh, why, why, why? Fine!
So, on that dimly lit road, I hiked up my dress, and started to climb the metal fence.
As I started to lift my leg over the top to get to the other side, my dress snagged on the metal fence! Oh shit! I was stuck.
My dress, now hiked up around my waist, underwear and bum exposed, I spotted it.
Their video camera! The Ledge’s video camera pointing straight at my ass! Holy crap.
I yelled at Mark. I’m sure I used some expletives that I was stuck on top of this fence, not sleeping at my own hotel, paying for this hotel, and now Michelle and her partner will be alerted on their cameras and have video of me climbing their fence-well, not me, but my ass! Oh my God.
Now my patience wasn’t thin. It was gone!
If I wasn’t stuck, I might have climbed back down the fence to my car, and left Mark on the other side of that fence without me!
After my expletive outburst, I got my dress unstuck, slid one leg over the top of the metal fence, hauled my other leg over, and began my climb down the other side. I made it down with multiple leg scratches, but it could have been worse.
Still angry, I walked to the cabina and got ready for bed.
I believe my final words to Mark that night were something like, “I will not do this again. I need to have my own bed and space soon or I will be going back home to the U.S.”
And with that, we added a small owner’s apartment to our hotel remodel plans!
Mark’s Side of the Story
Now that you’ve heard Marlo’s version of this story, let me tell you what REALLY happened.
In one of Marlo’s recent posts, you might have noticed an “owner’s apartment” listed among the construction projects that we were tackling during our rebuild/remodel of the hotel. This is the backstory of how that became a priority.
In the first year that we owned the hotel, we decided it would be a good idea to live for a time in each of the suites and villas. We thought it would be a great way to assess each room to see what improvements we should make. After all, there would be no better way to understand what guests might want than to live in the units like guests. Plus – how cool would it be? Every room had unique features, amenities and views. We would get to experience them all. Awesome right? I know!
The plan was to stay in whatever room was available. Thanks to Gomer’s pathetic marketing efforts, there were plenty of rooms available at first. We would stay in a room for a week or more until the next guests arrived. Then we would move to another room. Marlo and I each lived out of a small roll-aboard suitcase during this time. When the time came to switch rooms, we just threw all our stuff into the suitcases and moved. One of the many things I love about Marlo – I don’t think I know another woman who would be willing to live out of a small suitcase for a year.
As we got into high season, it became increasingly difficult to continue this strategy. We were switching rooms every 2-3 days, and sometimes, we didn’t have any rooms available at all. When that happened, we started staying at the other upscale hotels in the area. This gave us a chance to size up our competition. We still made money on the deal because our average room rate was around $500 per night while the hotels we were scouting out were typically only $300-$400 per night. It was better for us to rent out our rooms and go stay somewhere else.
This all worked pretty well until….The Incident!
One night, our hotel was completely booked, so we started calling the other hotels in the area. They were booked too. We called our friends Michelle and her partner who owned a bed and breakfast down the road called The Ledge, but Michelle said that The Ledge was closed for a few days because they were heading out of town. Fortunately, she said she could leave a room ready for us, and she would leave the gate open. As long as we didn’t mind staying there by ourselves, we were welcome to use it.
We planned to eat dinner in our restaurant before heading down the mountain to The Ledge. Before dinner, Marlo and I packed our little suitcases and put them in the trunk of our car. I was wearing my standard nighttime uniform – “fancy” jeans and a collared shirt while Marlo looked great in a tropical dress and some strappy sandals. After dinner we got in our car to drive down to The Ledge.
When we arrived, we discovered that Michelle had forgotten to leave the gate open. We parked the car in front of the gate and pondered what to do in absolute darkness. Marlo was mildly annoyed.
She called and texted Michelle but got no answer. Now Marlo was fully annoyed. I told her we had two options – sleep in the car or climb over the fence. That didn’t go over well.
We decided I would climb the fence first and go see if the room was even open and ready. Maybe Michelle had forgotten that too?? I easily climbed over fences when I was a kid, but as a 50-something man in fancy jeans, it’s a little harder!
After a little struggle, I made it over and walked to the cabina in darkness. The room was open and everything inside was ready. I just needed to get Marlo over that fence – in strappy sandals and a tropical dress!
When I walked back to the fence to give Marlo the good news that the room was ready, all I got back in return was “how am I supposed to get over this fucking fence?”
I climbed the fence again over to her side so I could help her. We tried a few different strategies – piggyback, stand on my bent knee, stand on my back – nothing worked. Marlo was fuming. Finally, she barked “just let me do it by myself!” – a very typical Marlo sentiment.
She managed to get herself up and over with just a little pushing from behind by me and without tearing her dress. I handed her our suitcases over the fence and climbed over for a third time. We walked silently to the room and fell into bed.
In the morning, we got dressed and reversed the process to get back to our car. It was a lot easier in daylight and with tempers cooled.
However, the damage had been done. I already knew this little escapade was going to cost me exactly one “owner’s apartment”.
p.s. A special shout-out to our friends, Keith & Joe, the new owners at The Ledge for the photos of their gate and fence! Pura vida, amigos!
Wow, those two accounts were very....different. Mark didn't mention you losing your cool or exposing your derriere. It was very matter-of-fact and cost-conscious 🤣 Yes, it cost you, Mark!
I enjoy the his-and-her version and the Men are From Mars, Women from Venus vibe.
It was a lot of fun to have both perspectives of that experience in one place, Marlo! I could feel your frustration with the situation and I don't blame you at all...sounds like that was a challenge for real. I can imagine you finally getting over the fence in your dress and showing your (I'm sure lovely) backside to the camera...what a hoot! 🤣🤣🤣