The Transition Artist

I wish my eyes would close and stay shut. It’s Sunday night, almost midnight, and I have to be back at work early tomorrow morning, but between the jet lag, the regrettable three-hour nap I took this afternoon, and a second wind that had me unpacking and tidying up my flat, I can’t sleep.

Maybe I also can’t sleep because I just spent the past week in paradise and I’m not ready to let go of being on vacation, when checking email here and there and polishing a deck so I don’t get behind while I’m away is a guilty pleasure, not a requirement. In my mind, it isn’t over yet, not really. My Instagram stories still show images of mango trees busting with fruit, tangled forests of green, leafy tropical trees, and my brown toes wiggling free in the sun next to the swimming pool at our last hotel. My nose still hasn’t quite begun peeling, my sunburned shoulders have now turned from pink to tan and don’t itch just yet, and my cheeks are still a little pink. I’m in vacation limbo, my body back in London but my mind in Costa Rica.

It feels harder ending this trip because I put so much time and effort into planning it. I dreamed of it for months, since we bought our tickets on a whim when I got it in my head that I needed to go to Costa Rica back in January.

It was when I was home in Houston for the holidays, a few days before the New Year, as I began journaling and mentally closing the chapter on 2018 that I decided I needed this trip.  Last year was an incredible, busy year for me; I moved to London, started my new job, survived a little brush with death, got back into running, and began regularly traveling between London and Paris. I loved 2018. I got out of my comfort zone and met another side of myself, and I wanted to make sure to continue in 2019. So, I did something I don’t normally do.

I laid out all the ideal time periods for vacation – spacing out any long stretches of a week or more away from the office with a few months in between so I wouldn’t leave my team high and dry. I put “Beachy, Spanish-speaking country for a week” down for May, and then spent the next hour or so working out every possible configuration I could on the SkipLagged app, trying to see which country would be cheapest to travel to and pack enough adventure for my taste. After running dates for Panama, the Dominican Republic, Peru, Grand Cayman, and the like, I landed on Costa Rica. Brimming with excitement, I ran down the hallway of my childhood home into my dad’s office and declared, “Dad, I have an amazing idea,” (a sentence which is always met with a little apprehension from my family because I’m notorious for hatching far-fetched plans).

“Why don’t we go to Costa Rica?”

Turns out that convincing my dad that we must go on an adventurous beach vacation isn’t too hard, and I had him on board in no time. We were both giddy at the idea of going on our first father-daughter trip. My family has always traveled together, save two years ago when my mom and I went to Japan on a mother-daughter trip and left the boys at home, so this was an exciting opportunity for us.

I’ve gotten lots of questions about how I planned my trip, so instead of simply narrating the experience, I’ve provided links and a few tips below. 

Trip Prep… 

Booking the tickets was easy enough. It turns out May is the off-season for Costa Rica; peak travel times are in the dry season which lasts from around mid-November to April, so plane tickets were less expensive than usual. My round-trip, 11-hour direct flight from London to San Jose cost only £582 on British Airways, while my Dad’s 3-hour round-trip from Houston cost around $400 on United.

I poked around on a few travel blogs and found Costa Rica bursting with so many incredible places to visit that we’d need to rent a car and move around, road tripping our way across the country. My dad booked a 4-wheel drive utility vehicle through Hertz (a must for some of the dirt or pot-hole ridden, gravel roads in Costa Rica, though a pricey $600 for an automatic with 4-wheel drive for the week), and left the itinerary up to me.

I started by polling friends on Instagram for best places to visit in Costa Rica, and came back with some killer recommendations. Social media is an incredible thing, and I’m insanely grateful for all the friends who shared their favorite spots with me (THANK YOU!). Of course, I couldn’t visit all the places that were recommended to me, but I vow to return for the ones we couldn’t make on this trip (see the others at the end of this article). In the end, I landed on the Guanacaste region, known for being the driest even during the rainy season (a major plus since I didn’t want to spend my days hiding out in my villa by the beach). And, after many positive reviews, I added a stop to Arenal Volcano (which is still active), which towers lush rainforests near the somewhat touristy town of La Fortuna, known for its beautiful waterfall of the same name.

Day 1: Arrival in San Jose, Travel to Arenal Volcano

We landed in San Jose on May 11, a warm Saturday afternoon. The plan was to pick up our rental car and drive to an Airbnb called “Niru Rainforest Suites,” which is situated in the mountainous ranches just above La Fortuna, tucked away from the typical tourist accommodations. I was drawn to our temporary home for its big windows and a balcony overlooking the Arenal volcano. According to Google maps, it was to just an hour and 45-minute drive from San Jose, so it seemed like a practical first stop. 

The only challenge is that you can’t really trust Google’s anticipated driving time when you’re in Costa Rica. This was a lesson we learned very quickly when, an hour into the drive, we were stuck in traffic in the tiny, complicated streets of Alajuela, which is just north of San Jose, rolling along at a whopping 5mph behind the world’s slowest tractor. We weren’t sure where it might be traveling to was, but that tractor stayed in front of us for a good 40 minutes, and, as we wound up the steep, winding mountain roads with tight, blind corners every 20 feet, we couldn’t do a thing about it. After an hour, the estimated remaining time on my GPS read 2 hours and 45 minutes and, after 11 hours in a plane, all I could do was laugh deliriously at my gross miscalculations.

We finally made it to our temporary home in the dark that evening, after the sun went down around 6pm. The long trip proved well-worth it. For $90 a night, we got a little bungalow with a full kitchen and a bed in front of big bay windows, Jacuzzi, and balcony all overlooking the volcano. The first thing I did was fire up the Jacuzzi, and my aching, jet-lagged body melted with sweet relief.

Even with the sliding doors closed and blinds drawn, we could hear crickets and countless varieties of bugs and frogs I couldn’t name singing into the night. Lightning bugs danced around the balcony and the stars twinkled above us, and in the morning we awoke to sunlight streaming through cracks in the curtains just before 6am and birds singing all around us. If my dad hadn’t been there to talk to keep me grounded in our beautiful reality, I might’ve believed I had died and gone to heaven.

Day 2: Exploring La Fortuna

We woke up early the next morning to go on a guided hike through the rainforest and zip line over the rainforest canopy through Sky Adventures on Viator.

Our hiking guide was a well-versed naturalist, and explained the inner-workings of the many layers of the rain forest to us as we hiked. She pointed out tree species with roots above the earth that I’d never seen before and taught us about the inner-workings of a worker ant hill and the life stages of a lizard. Then, she walked us to waterfalls and across hanging bridges, and lent us her binoculars to look at a mama sloth and her baby and a white falcon hiding high in the trees.

I couldn’t stop sniffing the air and commenting that it smelled incredible; call me weird, but as a runner living in a big city, breathing in the fresh air of the rain forest is one of the most fantastic things I’ve experienced. We finished off the morning zipping above the same trees we had hiked through, screaming down the lines and looking out over Arenal volcano and the lake below it.

Having started early, we had enough time to drive over to La Fortuna Waterfall and hike down to the falls. In all honesty, it’s an incredibly touristy experience, but is quite a natural beauty. Entrance cost $18 (just to walk down some 500 stairs), and tour groups rotate in and out. However, the waterfall itself is an impressive 150 feet of white water falling off the side of a cliff, seemingly from nowhere, into a pool of exquisitely blue-green water. We wore our bathing suits and took a dip in the cool, clear river water below the waterfall. We found a spot to ourselves and soaked our tired bodies, watching as little fish and fresh water crabs skittered by. We were lucky to have rested; the climb back up those 500 steps is no joke (though it is a little funny watching out of shape tourists huff and puff their way back up). 

We finished the day with a stop by a pastelería in town, where I found a tasty bread pudding that looked like a coconut bread pudding-esque cake topped with dulce de leche called budin de pan, and then head to the hot springs for one last soak. Many areas of the hot springs have been privatized by resorts, but we parked on the road near Tabacon Resort, where you can leave your car and walk down to a public part of the warm river for a dip. We ducked under a gate and joined groups of other tourists and locals alike savoring the bath-water temperature river heated by volcanic rocks. I practically melted as I sunk into the water, and repeated “this is the liiiife” probably too many times.

It began pouring rain as soon as we got home that evening; the rainy season at its finest. We sat and drank red wine on our covered balcony and watched it come down in awe. After the rain, the stars and the fireflies came out again, and we stared out at the dark silhouette of the volcano as exhaustion descended like a cloud.

Day 3: Leaving Arenal, Road trip to Playa Conchal

I slept like a rock and woke up early to another stellar view of that volcano. They say that most years the volcano is only visible 60 days of the year; otherwise its peak is shrouded in clouds or lingering smoke. We were lucky enough to see it all the days we were there.

I went for a run and spent 30 minutes gulping down all that fresh air between pastures filled with horses next to our Airbnb. When I came back, drenched in sweat and hopped up on endorphins, our sweet host Esteban brought a basket filled with coffee, orange juice, sweet cakes, bread, and fresh fruit to our balcony so we could have breakfast outside. We lingered, leisurely lounging in the sunshine and sipping our coffee until about noon, when we decided to hit the road. I felt a pang of sadness hit me as we drove away from our volcanic paradise, which became a common sensation for the duration of the trip. I didn’t want to leave a single place we visited…

We drove another four hours to the coast, though this time we anticipated the long drive. We made it to Playa Conchal in the Guanacaste region by 4pm, and we bounced down the dirt road from Matapalo, the closest (tiny) town towards our Airbnb. I had intentionally chosen a place called Villas La Paz close to the beach for its remote, calm location. As we drove down the small ranch road towards our new home, my dad glanced at me skeptically a few times and muttered, “Uh, are you sure this is right?”

When we arrived, though, he changed his tune. We had found paradise 2.0. We drove into a property tucked back in the hills near Playa Conchal, just a 10-minute walk from the beach, and found our little villa complete with a huge balcony, barbeque, fridge, blender, beach loungers, hammock, and even a little cat named Mitzie, all to ourselves. We practically ran down to the beach to catch the last bit of sunshine before sunset, and were surprised to find we had the ENTIRE stretch of beach almost completely to ourselves. A few hundred yards down, a lone swimmer paddled along in the blue water. We hunted for shells, which the beach is known for – hence the name “Conchal,” went for a swim, and wandered the beach until sunset, when a raincloud finally rolled in and began drizzling on us. By the time we made it back up to our Airbnb, the drizzle turned to a downpour. The rain felt good, and we joked that the rainy season was polite to save the rainstorms for when we got home each day.

From our covered balcony, we lit the barbeque and Dad grilled chicken thighs while I made guacamole from huge avocados, lime, garlic, and red onion we had bought at the grocery store in Matapalo. We heated up some tortillas to make chicken fajita tacos and cracked open the salsa and chips and our Pilsen beers from our beach loungers. Pilsen used to be one of the only beers made in Costa Rica, which used to be one of the only choices for Costa Rican beer before craft brewing came about, from our beach loungers. We talked and fed Mitzie a few little morsels of chicken, and our host Andres came by after dinner to hang out for a while. He told us which nearby beaches were the best for morning swims and sunset hangs, explained how local surfers know where to go to catch the best waves, and told us stories about his German neighbor and his 17 pet cats (one of which is technically Mitzie, but she gets by eating lizards she catches and scraps from sucker tourists like us).

Day 4: Roaming the beaches of Guanacaste

We woke up early again the next morning (hard not to when your body clock is on London time and the sun starts coming up around 5) and went down to Playa Minas, a beach Andres recommended we visit. It was perfectly serene and bathed in sunlight that wasn’t yet (but quickly became) too intense. The only other beach-goer was a man and his dog.

I put on my running shorts and sports bra and took off barefoot to run up and down the beach, and my dad meanwhile made friends with the only other soul on the beach. The guy walking his dog turned out to be an American expat from Dallas living in a huge community of American and Canadian expats in nearby Playa Flamingo, and he gave my dad another slew of nearby restaurant and beach recommendations, including Coco Loco for lunch and Gracia for dinner. After staying on the beach long enough to finish a sandy 5k, an ab circuit, snorkel around the rocks, swim, and get a sunburn, we decided to go get lunch at one of the restaurants my Dad’s new buddy had recommended.

Not 30 minutes later, we parked our sunburned shoulders under an umbrella in the shade on Playa Flamingo at Coco Loco restaurant. We ordered their famous Coco Loco cocktails (which are dangerously good, loaded with Costa Rican Guaro (a 60 proof liquor made from sugar cane), coconut water, coconut cream, rum and tequila) and a couple seafood dishes, and topped it all off with coconut ice cream, and then sat immobilized in the most incredible food coma.

We rounded out the afternoon with a trip to nearby beach Playa Real where we bought tasty, local ceviche from a guy with a cooler and lounged in the shade under the trees. We stayed on the beach until sunset, per Andres’ recommendation, and I witnessed the hands-down most incredible sunset I’ve ever seen.

A tiny rain shower passed over us just before the sun went down, creating a double rainbow behind us. Little sand crabs and hermit crabs of all sizes scampered around, and the sun slipped behind a little island further out in the water, peeking out every now and then to turn the sky deep orange and lighting up the rainbows again. The beach was completely empty. We walked in the water, played with the crabs, and talked about what an incredible thing this world is as we witnessed the sunset of a lifetime. A feeling of overwhelming joy and peace flooded through us as we sat on that beach, and I won’t soon forget that incredible evening.

Day 5: Playa Conchal to Tamarindo

The next day it was time to move again. I jogged down to Playa Conchal and ran barefoot from one end of the beach clear down to Playa Brasilito on the other end and back again for a little morning 5K. The sand lends itself perfectly to barefoot runs; it’s just firm enough that it stays solid as my feet hit the ground, so I don’t have to work too hard, and it gives enough to be forgiving on my feet and joints. Once I had finished, I went back to the villa for coffee, eggs, and mango, which is in season in May (Costa Rica grows a huge variety called Mangas), on our balcony, and then, after saying goodbye to Andres and Mitzie, we hit the road and drove on to Tamarindo.

The drive to Tamarindo was over in no time, just a quick 40 minutes away. The little surf town is known for being younger, busier (read: many more tourists and much more night life), and great for surf lessons. Once we’d checked into our clean, conveniently located Airbnb at Casa de Arroz, just a stone’s throw from the beach, I booked a surf lesson at Iguana Surf Shop, per our host Happy’s recommendation. Since I’d never surfed before, I opted for a private lesson and was paired with a laid-back surf instructor named Kendall. We left at 3pm, when the tide was out, and I learned the basics (how to stand up, where to put my feet, how to use my arms for balance) on the beach before trying my hand on the water.

By some miracle, I managed to stand up on my first wave, and I spent the evening riding the white water (the remaining momentum of the wave once it’s broken further out) into shore. I, naturally, got way too excited about the whole thing, felt like I was made to surf, and immediately signed up for another lesson later in the week.

To celebrate, Dad and I popped into a beach bar called El Be! for Happy Hour and got a plate of nachos, margaritas for $4 and beers for $2, and time flew by as we rehashed the surf session and covered every topic under the sun. After stopping back home to clean ourselves up, we finished off the evening at Seasons by Shlomy, a fancy little cash-only restaurant where we shared tuna sashimi, seafood risotto, and grilled seabass. It was so tasty, with sweet and salty soy sauce and buttery perfection. My mouth waters just thinking about it.

Day 6: Boat and snorkeling trip to Catalinas Islands

The next morning, we were up early for a snorkeling trip out to the Catalinas Islands, about 45 minutes off shore. I love swimming with the fish, and this tour didn’t disappoint. We boated out to two big outcroppings of rocks down the coast, and swam around them for an hour at a time, peeping at reef sharks, massive schools of colorful fish, starfish, puffer fish, and other ocean life. Though I love snorkeling no matter what, the motor boat was a very sea sick experience for me, and I think I’ll opt for the smoother catamaran (which I learned about too little too late) that serves lunch, offers kayaking, snorkeling and fishing, and has an open bar and sunset cruise next time!

We finished off our day back at the beach, and stuck around for sunset at El Chiringuito, a local favorite with another good happy hour that our Airbnb hosts recommended we try. The pina colada, beer, grilled octopus on fried polenta, and ceviche were the perfect treat. We followed it up with a stroll around town, but especially enjoyed the Thursday Night Market, where local vendors set up food trucks, drink stands, and market stalls to sell coffee, kombucha, jewelry, and other goodies. My advice (which holds for pretty much anywhere in Costa Rica): bring cash!

Day 7: Last day in Tamarindo, back to Alajuela

Friday, on our last day at the beach, I wanted to make the most of every second I had. I got up around 6:30am and went for another beach run, this time doing interval sprints (that still have my calves reeling two days later) in the sand after a 15-minute warm up jog. I polished off my beach workout with abs on my beach towel in the sand, and then went home, tossed on my bathing suit, and went back out to surf.

My lesson started at 9am, the tide started coming back in around 10am, and the waves were tough. This time, I spent much more time in the water than surfing. The tops of my thighs and knees got rubbed raw by the board, my arms were exhausted from paddling against the waves, and I got a little frustrated when I stood up too slowly or too quickly and tumbled down into the washing machine of the crashing wave. However, I absolutely relished the moments I managed to put the weight in my front leg to tip my board over the edge of a wave and ride it down the shoreline. The upside to my tough second session is that it’s reason enough for me to come back and try again…

Dad and I whiled away the rest of the afternoon on the beach, and couldn’t bring ourselves to get back in the car to leave Tamarindo until almost 5pm. I felt my stomach twist yet again with sadness at having to leave yet again. By some miracle, the rain started falling as soon as we went to get in the car, and it felt like Tamarindo was sad to see us go, too. We drove away through a big thunderstorm and then drove into the evening until we got back to the last hotel I’d booked in Alajuela.

Day 8: Last day in paradise

To end our week, I had wanted to book something that still felt natural; I wasn’t fully ready to return to the city, and didn’t want to go to noisy, crowded San Jose – I get enough city in London.

I found a peaceful, pretty hotel on a big hill overlooking the city and the volcanic mountains in the distance called Hotel Buena Vista (naturally), a 20-minute drive from the airport. We got a big room with a view, and fell asleep with our screened windows open, listening to the bugs and the frogs the same way we had at the start of the trip. Likewise, we woke up to a clear morning of sunlight and singing birds, and I went outside for a hike around the property. I took in the lush green surroundings one last time, poking at fallen mangoes, oranges and limes from fruit trees. Then, I returned to a grassy area overlooking the city and did a 30-minute HIIT workout to wear myself out before my flight, dunked my legs in the pool, and head to breakfast.

Breakfast was perfect and included in our room price (which I had booked on Expedia). They brought us fresh orange juice, plenty of coffee, banana bread, toast and jam, gallo pinto (a typical breakfast of eggs, rice and beans, corn tortilla and cheese), an omelette, and fresh fruit. We ate our fill and then popped right back out to the pool to get our last dose of sunshine.

Pura Vida…

These memories, and all the moments spent laughing or singing or listening to podcasts in the car, keep playing on repeat as I lay in bed. They’re so close, so tangible, that I can hardly believe they’ve all passed. My week in Costa Rica was so full and rich that it felt like it could’ve been longer; each day so action packed that it could’ve been two.

All over Costa Rica, you hear “Pura Vida,” said to mean “the good life, thanks, no worries, what’s up, hey, bye, and you’re welcome” all in one word. I am and will be forever grateful for how full this trip has left me feeling, and I know the twisty knot of sadness in the pit of my stomach at leaving it behind means I’ll be back much sooner than I might’ve thought.

I feel lucky to have experienced Pura Vida, the good life, and am thankful for the experiences we lived and the kind people we met. If you’re thinking of going to Costa Rica soon, DO. I already can’t wait to go back.

Until next time… Pura Vida.

Places that I wasn’t able to visit this go around that I’ll be back to visit later include:

• Rio Celeste, a stunningly blue river. The Costa Ricans say that the after God painted the sky, he cleaned his paintbrush in the water of Rio Celeste (though I was also told that it’s so blue from the high mineral content, I like the first story better).
• Manuel Antonio, rumored to be one of the most beautiful beaches on the Pacific Coast.
• More Hiking around Arenal 
• Corcovado National Park, for camping and wildlife (I want to see the pumas and the sea turtles!)
• Surf at Playa Samara, which I’ve been told is a little known gem of a surf spot
• …and much, much more. Feel free to share additional recommendations in the comments. 🙂