My journey to Costa Rica was almost over before it ever began. I landed in Houston for my connecting flight to Liberia when the man at the gate told me I would not be allowed to board the plane. He informed me that Costa Rica requires tourists entering the country to have proof that they will be leaving the country. I had not even considered this when booking my original one-way flight. I know… so stupid of me. The lessons from my journey had already started. Well, thinking on my feet I knew my friend would be in Tulum towards the end of May so I bought a ticket to Cancun. My next major flight was going to be to Europe and the flights were relatively inexpensive from Cancun.
A couple hours later I landed in Costa Rica. After a bumpy shuttle ride with four random dudes I arrive in Nosara. The vibe in Nosara is definitely laid back but I got the sense that the town was being tailored to the American tourists. I was staying at a hostel with a couple quirky hosts from somewhere in Europe. I have no idea where there accent was from. I was fortunate to connect with Brit, a fellow American, upon check in. She invited me join her and her friends for some beers that night. After a couple beers and a long journey searching for some late night ice cream I found myself exhausted in my hostel bed.
The next morning I woke up and headed to the beach. The swell was pretty big and seemed to be a little more than what the Nosara beach break could handle. The wind was not helping much as the waves were blown out on top of closing out. I ran into my friends again Cat and Brit on the beach. They mentioned that they were heading down to Dominical today.
This moment set the tone for the rest of my time in Costa Rica. Yes, I jumped in the car with two women I had just met for a 6 hour road trip down the Pacific coast of Costa Rica. I let go of that comfortable blanket from home of knowing what was ahead and said “yes” to any adventure that lie ahead.
The car ride was an adventure. We shared stories of life, laughs and things I cannot discuss here as I squeezed citrus in a jar to cut the tequila we passed around. Don’t worry the driver was not drinking. There was a bond that happened so quickly with these two I felt like we were a little nomad family.
We drove through Forrest Gump types of rain. The GPS on the phone was hit or miss as we try to figure out our location on the cartoon map from the rental car place. The countryside was a welcomed distraction to the little hiccups along the way. We weaved our way through lush green rainforest mountains, small towns of Tico people living Pura Vida and the beaches that outlined the Pacific.
It turned out to be dark by the time we arrived to our destination. Cat’s friend Chris worked at a hostel called the Flutterby. We showed up around 9:00pm and the place was alive with tanned nomads, man buns, mostly unbuttoned shirts and smiles bright with life.
More on this place soon…