Jane comes by in the morning to move her stuff into Brian’s car so he can drop her off at her new place on the other side of Samara. When her stuff is loaded up, she pulls out her cat carrier and we all meet her cat. She tells me how he found her. Jane was in Nicaragua, sitting at a restaurant her friend owned about six months ago. Jane was telling her friend wanting an animal traveling companion to ease the loneliness of traveling alone. Not five minutes after her friend suggested she get a cat, they both heard a soft meowing from close by. Jane followed the meowing and saw a snow white cat with blue eyes to match her own. Her animal traveling companion had found her. This morning, her traveling companion meows restlessly and paws at the mesh fabric of his carrier. She unzips the bag slightly so Victoria and Catherine can pet him. His coat is now gold and white and his eyes have changed from blue to gold. Jane has to push him back down in the carrier so he does not escape. Minutes later, Brian is ready to drive her across town. Jane gives me a warm hug and wishes me luck as I craft a new, different life.
I enjoy a late morning swim with Catherine. Her ankle is still a bit unsteady so she hangs on to me as we wade through the surf. Back on the beach, we talk about our families and our lives back home. In the afternoon, I Skype Nicolas who I met in Playa Tamarindo to tell him I’ll be in town tomorrow for a couple days. I ask how his new life in San Jose is going and he says he’s leaving for Quebec when his lease is done. He can’t find any work, he is not happy in San Jose, and he got robbed at gunpoint. He asks if I want to accompany him on a road trip through Central America, the US and back home to Quebec. Wow! And here I was in the mind-set to go back home. Now I have the opportunity to drive through Central America, my own country, and Quebec. What to do? I stammer out that I’ll think about it. Then we make arrangements to have dinner together tomorrow evening and I promise to let him know once I’ve settled into Costa Rica Guesthouse tomorrow afternoon.
I want to spend my last day in Playa Samara walking through the town. I walk along the beach to the main street. I hardly pass anyone as I walk; Samara is a beautifully empty beach town, just like when I arrived sixteen days ago. I follow main street away from the beach, then turn left at the Century 21 office. Following this dirt road, I pass the church, the massage school, and the bank. Past the bank on the opposite side of the street is a two story shopping center. Parents and children are celebrating a birthday party on the second floor balcony. I continue past an abandoned lot to my left, thick with grass, a massive tree in the center spreading its long branches across the property. I cross a bridge over a creek and turn left. I walk past several cabinas, Soda Sol y Mar which is deserted, then past the dirt road that runs in front of Ciclo Samara. I pass pasture with six horses quietly eating the grass. I stop a moment to watch them. I look past the horses and see the line of tall green palm trees on the beach. I pass the Alta Vista Condominiums; two people are on a second story balcony talking and a woman is on a third story balcony admiring her view. No one notices me quietly walk by. Just before I reach the beach, I pass a dirt road to my right and see a familiar figure walking down the road towards me. I walk towards Jane and she smiles in surprise. She asks what I’m doing here 
and I tell her that I wanted to spend my last day in Playa Samara walking through it. I ask her where she is headed. “To the beach,” she tells me. We walk there together. Jane tells me how much better she feels now that she has moved to this part of town. Now, she says, she can hang out with her friends and have a calm two weeks before she leaves to work in Alaska, where she plans to stay until late summer. Like me, she dislikes conflict and negativity and now she can avoid both. I smile when Jane tells me her cat is out exploring their new neighborhood and that she needs to return home before sunset so he does not come back to an empty apartment. We are halfway down the beach when Jane bids me goodbye with a warm hug and a promise to email.
I walk for a few minutes before I realize I don’t have a single picture of her.
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