On December 12th, 2013 I left my simple beach bum life in Nicaragua for Juan Santamaría International Airport in Costa Rica, where I was
to await the arrival of two pals of mine from back home. I had had some unbelievable
experiences in Nicaragua and while I was sad to be leaving, I was also excited
to see some familiar faces and explore the Caribbean coast for the first time.
After picking-up Marko and Adrian from the airport and
haggling with cab drivers over fare prices, we found a hostel in San José just
blocks from the bus terminal for Puerto Viejo de Talamanca, our first Caribbean
destination. The next morning we woke and packed, eager to get out of the big
city. We weaved through crowds of people for nearly thirty minutes to get to
the Terminal Caribe, only to discover that we had gone to the wrong bus terminal; the bus for Puerto Viejo left from the San Carlos Terminal, which,
ironically, was only a few minutes from our hostel. We were further
disappointed when we arrived to the correct terminal and there were no seats left on the bus for Puerto Viejo – the three of us would
have to stand in the aisle throughout the hot, six hour ride.
Marko & Adrian at Terminal San Carlos, ready to hit the playa
Typical beach of Puerto Viejo de Talamanca
Puerto Viejo de Talamanca was a small, touristy town on the
Southern-most Caribbean Coast of Costa Rica, and was very different from all
the villages I visited on the Pacific Coast. The Caribbean Sea was baby blue and clear, and the reef was much more prevalent here than on the Pacific Coast. There was also a strong Rastafari culture, which was completely absent amongst the indigenous people on the Pacific Coast.
In addition to these differences, Tarapacky also managed to get me back on the well-beaten gringo trail. His extensive research on 'party hostels' led us to Rockin J's, a huge hostel on the beach offering everything from hammocks ($7 US per night) to a honey-moon sweet ($70 US per night). While I stayed in the hammock, Mark and Tara opted to stay in tents. The hostel was covered in mosaics and fostered a very cool atmosphere. It was definitely a great place to start off the night.
Hammock City
Mark in the Tent Slum
Saturday night entertainment
The highlight of our time in Puerto Viejo was exploring the area with quads. We each rented an ATV and took off down every side road we could find between Puerto Viejo and Manzanillo. While doing doughnuts in the white-sanded beaches, which wasn't so legal, both Mark and I almost flipped our quads. The boys were pretty stoked to have found some coconuts and to have learned how to properly open them to first get the coconut water and then get at the meat.
Marko just managed to skid to a stop before driving his ATV through the hole in this bridge
Enjoying the view after several close calls on the quads
On December 16th we headed to Bocas del Toro, Panama. While Marko and Adrian had no problem crossing the border, the official turned me down - apparently a digital picture of a Word document on my computer screen was not sufficient proof of onward travel from Panama. After an hour or so at the internet café I tried again and fortunately they let me through into Panama!
Bocas del Toro was totally different than any place I've seen in Central America to date. It was comprised of numerous islands, requiring water taxis to get anywhere. We stayed in the capital city, Bocas Town on Isla Colón, in another party hostel courtesy of Adrian Tarapacky - Mondo Taitu Bar & Hostel. This hostel was a blast. It played great music and had a theme every night, of which our favourite was 80's night power hour - 60 minutes, 60 songs, and 60 shots of beer. Better yet was our pimp suite, a tree-house with two beds, a hammock, and a private bathroom for $36 US a night.
Sketchy bridge crossing into Panama
Bocas del Toro, Panama
Bocas Town, Isla Colón
Christmas vibe in Mondo Taitu
Pre-drink in Mondo Taitu
Our tree-house
The water in Bocas del Toro was the clearest I've ever seen, which encouraged us to give scuba diving a try. We completed a three-day Professional Association of Diving Instructors (PADI) open water certification course with Freddy of Bocas Water Sports. While Freddy said we weren't his best students, he said we were certainly his funnest. Our first enclosed water dive was hilarious - Tara had a full-blown panic attack under water while Mark kept re-surfacing due to water inhalation. Once these issues were resolved, all went smoothly other than the fact that Marko ran through his oxygen in half the time as the rest of us.
Marko upset to have failed quiz#1 (he managed to pass on the second try!)
Despite these initial obstacles, we all passed the written exams (eventually) and practical underwater drills. We learned a tonne of skills, including how to equalize our internal air spaces when experiencing a squeeze, how to share oxygen in case of an emergency, how to clear water out of our masks underwater, and how to avoid decompression illness when diving multiple times in a day.
Marko nailing the water entry
Enclosed water drills
We completed four open water dives in Bocas del Toro: Punta Manglar, Airport, HDP and Log. Each of these spots were completely different, but our favourite was HDP by far. The colourful reef at HDP was full of life, I felt as if I were on another planet. We saw everything from sting rays and lobsters to schools of fish numbering in the hundreds.
Thrilled at the end of one of our first open water dives
Scuba diving wasn't the only new experience I had in Bocas, it was here that I also surfed my first reef break - Black Rock. From Isla Colón I would take a water taxi for $2 US to the break, surf until I was tired, and try to hail a taxi once finished. This was a surreal experience. A channel on either side of the reef also made it incredibly easy to get back to the break, for I wouldn't have to battle breaking waves on my way. Adrian and Mark got hooked on surfing, and it appears I may have a couple of surfing pals for my future trips.
"Just paddling out into big surf is total commitment. You can't just call time-out and stroll on into the beach if you don't like the way things are going."
- Bonfire scene in the film "Point Break"
Playa Santa Teresa has given me the biggest ass-kickings in my life, as well as some of the best rides. Unlike Playa Tamarindo, Playa Santa Teresa is not sheltered within a bay; it is exposed to whatever the Pacific Ocean throws its way. This, as I quickly learned, makes for consistently steeper, heavier and faster waves.
Playa Santa Teresa
My first impression of the break at Santa Teresa was that it was impossible to get to. While I had no trouble getting to those in Playas Tamarindo and Avellanas, the paddle-out to the break in Santa Teresa was another story. Crashing waves were rolling-in every two to four seconds. This made it very difficult to make any headway. Trust me when I say that duck-diving a 6'6" fun-board takes a lot of energy. Now imagine doing it every few seconds in between paddling toward the break. After persevering through the burning desire to turn around and head back to shore, I finally made it to the break where I could relax and catch my breath.
The conditions were perfect. Sets were rolling in one after the other. The absence of wind made for glassy waves breaking perfectly both right and left. At first, the height of these waves was no larger than that I was accustomed to. However, they were definitely much thicker and more powerful. As I sat on my board waiting for the right wave and, still, catching my breath, a freak set was rolling in.
The first wave of the set was easily ten feet and growing as I watched it in bewilderment. In this situation one must make a decision to avoid having the wave crash on top of you: either catch the wave, or paddle past it. I opted for the latter and began paddling as hard as I possibly could toward it and just managed to duck-dive through it. Unfortunately, I was not prepared for the even larger wave directly behind it as it lifted me up, tossed me over the lip, and smashed me against the ocean floor.
As I lay pinned against the bottom the wisdom contained in the flick "Point Break" dawned on me and I managed to crack a smile. Specifically, I was thinking of the scene in which Patrick Swayze and his 'bros' are describing to Keanu Reeves that when surfing big waves, "you can't just call time-out and stroll on into the beach if you don't like the way things are going." When those freak, rogue waves came out of nowhere and towered over me there was no time-out - I had to make some quick decisions.
If you haven't seen this movie, watch it now... You're missing out.
After a few days I managed to dial-in the waves in Santa Teresa. The drop into the waves was incredibly steep and I've never before had so much speed ripping down their green faces. Falling off the board at this speed felt like hitting pavement.
The session on the eve of Halloween was particularly memorable. People began to gather on the beach in front of the break to watch both the surfers and the sun set over the Pacific Ocean. Not only was it the most beautiful sunset I've seen in Costa Rica, but it was also my best surf session to date.
Sunset in Santa Teresa
After a slow start, everything just seemed to click. I was catching wave after wave after wave. I was dialing-in my top- and bottom-turns both on right- and left- breaking waves. Then, as I sat on my board furthest out from shore of the surfers, a massive wave was peaking directly behind me. I quickly lined myself up, paddled and hopped on my board. As I began ripping left across the face of the wave I noticed water barreling over my head as if I was in a washing machine. Yet I could see the green face of the wave and a piece of shore straight ahead of me. Then it registered - I was surfing inside a tube. But, as quickly as it happened, it ended. I was picked-up, thrown over the lip and smashed to the ocean floor, again... I don't think I've ever had such a big adrenaline rush; I rode the high for hours afterward, unable to stop myself from smiling.
I finally understand the excitement and description the surfer provides in the following video that went viral several years ago.
I've had a blast here in Santa Teresa, and I highly recommend everyone to check it out if you're visiting Costa Rica. I'm sad to be leaving, but I'll surely be back someday!
“Zen is not a
religion, nor a dogma, nor a belief. Neither is Zen a search, an investigation,
or a philosophy. The fundamental basis for the practice of Zen is the principle
that everything is as it should be, nothing is missing. In this exact moment,
everything is perfect.”
After five hours of slowly climbing and descending the steep
and unkempt roads of the Nicoya Peninsula, Sergio and I finally arrived to Casa Zen Guesthouse & Yoga Centre in Santa Teresa. We were awe-struck by this
so-called ‘hostel’. Situated in the heart of Santa Teresa, and only steps from
the playa, the location is impossible to beat. Locals drop-by daily to offer us
everything from sushi-rolls to fresh empanadas de carne. For us
budget-travelers, the hostel is equipped with a large, state-of-the-art
kitchen. More importantly, however, Casa Zen promotes an incredibly laidback
and friendly vibe. I’m even considering attempting a morning yoga session,
after complimentary breakfast and coffee of course.
Common area at Casa Zen
Santa Teresa is a coastal village on the South-Western side
of the Nicoya peninsula in the Puntarenas province. Here the jungle hugs the
sparsely populated white sand beach as far as the eye can see. The town consists
of a single unpaved road lined with restaurants, cafés, grocery stores and
hotels. To our surprise, the road was in worse condition than that through the
mountainous interior of the peninsula. With the newly-acquired, first-hand knowledge of
what these roads were capable of doing to Sergio’s 4WD Daihatsu Terios, we
rented a couple of quads to explore the area surrounding Santa Teresa.
Playa Santa Teresa
The road through Santa Teresa
Keen to decide for ourselves whether the coastal road of the
peninsula was not passable during the rainy-season, Sergio and I hopped on our semi-automatic ATVs and headed North toward Playa Manzanillo.
After crossing several thigh-deep rivers, climbing unimaginably steep hills and
navigating the seemingly endless pot-holes, we came to share the locals’ conviction of the
coastal road – that is, if you can even call it a road. It rivals Buckwallow’s
technical mountain biking trails in Ontario. Nevertheless, it is the most
scenic and tranquil road I’ve ever seen; without a soul in sight, we were
watched by howler monkeys and iguanas as we followed the road through
the jungle, over the foothills and on the edges of cliffs overlooking the Pacific
Ocean.
Foothills of Santa Teresa
The next day, Tuesday October 29th, the two of us
woke at sunrise to check-out Montezuma’s infamous waterfalls. After splitting a
loaf of freshly-baked bread in Cóbano we continued on our quads to the
South-Eastern coast of the peninsula toward Montezuma. The hippie town of
Montezuma is much more centralized than that of Santa Teresa, with all the
shops and restaurants located within a 5-minute walk of each other. This is my
favourite coastal town in Costa Rica. It is not under-developed,
nor is it too touristy; in my opinion, it possesses the perfect balance between a
bustling town and a remote, uninhabited Costa Rican beach.
Montezuma
Montezuma Waterfall
In flip-flops and without mosquito repellent, we were
ill-prepared for the trek through the jungle and wading through rivers to get
to Montezuma’s waterfalls. After absorbing the beauty of the waterfall, and a
considerable amount of mosquito bites, we were happy to retreat to a local café
and enjoy some coffee and fresh jugo de naranja. Before leaving Montezuma, I spotted
a palm tree with several coconuts within reach – perfect mixer for the bottle
of Flor de Caña rum we had back in Santa Teresa!
Coconut harvesting!
Sergio replenishing his electrolytes
After smashing a coconut between a couple of stones and
replenishing our electrolytes, I threw another into my day-pack for the rum and
headed, using the coastal road, to Mal País. Mal País is located just south of
Santa Teresa on the Western side of the peninsula by the Cabo Blanco Nature
Reserve. Playa Mal País is perhaps the most isolated, beautiful beach I’ve ever
visited. Getting there requires either hiking through the jungle or climbing over
steep rock outcroppings. The town itself merely consists of a fish
market from which we were stoked to purchase fresh Mahi Mahi for dinner.
Playa Mal País
Mahi Mahi from the fish market
Upon our return to Casa Zen we celebrated our day's success with Mahi Mahi fillets, salad and, of course, a few drinks of Flor de Caña mixed with the water of handpicked coconuts and limes. No question I've found Zen here in the Southern-most tip of the Nicoya Peninsula. If this isn't 'pura vida', I don't know what is.
Handpicked coconut, lime & Flor de Caña
Our ATV adventure in the Southern-most tip of the Nicoya Peninsula
“And, when
you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”
- Paulo Coelho, in “The Alchemist”
After two weeks in Playa Avellanas I was keen on seeing what
other breaks Costa Rica has to offer. Although, it was a little sad to leave
the gang at Dracos Surf Camp and, perhaps even more so, to know that I would no
longer be eating the gourmet meals prepared by sous-chef Justin Floyd. I
suppose it was inevitable that sooner or later I would have to turn back to
rice and beans…
Santa Teresa was the logical choice after surfing the web
and conversing with the ticos, i.e. the locals. Not only was it highly regarded
for its various large breaks, it was located less than 200 km south of Playa
Avellanas. This, I thought, should make it easy to get to. Accordingly, I got a
friend to drop me off in Tamarindo so that I could arrange for transportation.
Within an hour of arriving to Tamarindo it dawned on me that
getting to Santa Teresa was no easy task. The road following the coast line was
not an option during the rainy season due to impassible swollen rivers; getting
to Santa Teresa required travelling through the mountainous interior of the Nicoya
Peninsula or taking a ferry. Furthermore, shuttles do not typically run during
the low-tourism season, which understandably coincides with the rainy season. This
left me with public transportation – at least 3 buses, a couple of cab rides
and a ferry that would amount to a minimum of 11 hours. When confirming the
route with a tica, I was further disappointed to discover that the route
outlined online was incorrect. I had no doubt that this trek would be a
nightmare, especially with a surfboard. But it was my only option.
Nicoya Peninsula. A represents Tamarindo & B represents Santa Teresa. The blue route depicts the inland trek from Tamarindo to Santa Teresa.
With this enlightenment I decided to spend the night at Blue Trailz Hostel in Tamarindo and set out for Santa Teresa early morning. When
discussing my dilemma at the hostel, a Spaniard by the name of Sergio mentioned
that he was planning on driving to Santa Teresa in two days time and that he
was more than happy to have me tag along – a golden stroke of luck. Not only
did this save me the burden of lugging around a surfboard and the worry of
getting completely lost in rural Costa Rica, but I got the opportunity to make
a friend with ties to both England and Spain.
Not till later did I find out that two friends, Rhiannon and
Will who I met in Tamarindo and accompanied to Playa Avellanas, recommended
that Sergio stay at Blue Trailz hostel in Tamarindo. A buddy of mine from back home lent me “The Alchemist”, a novel by Paulo Coelho, shortly before I left for
Central America. It instantly became a favourite of mine, offering countless
lessons to learn from. The most
powerful of which was that you should live in the singular pursuit of your
dream and, consequently, “all the universe conspires in helping you achieve it”. This was surely an omen encouraging me
to continue on my journey.
The two of us woke at 5:00 am on Sunday October 27th,
packed the SUV and set off for Santa Teresa. The weather was perfect – sunny
and not intolerably hot and humid, as per usual – but the roads were not. It took us nearly five hours to cover 201
km. Fortunately, we didn’t blow a
tire until we arrived to Santa Teresa, after which we drove for another half hour
to find our hostel before worrying about it. Could this be another omen?
Pura Vida
The inland route from Tamarindo to Santa Teresa
Throwing on a spare tire in front of the hostel
Sergio happy to have made it to Santa Teresa in time to watch some fútbol
Enjoying the finale to Stieg Larsson's trilogy and some complimentary coffee
A couple of weeks ago I met an
expat by the name of David Abel outside a small café in Tamarindo. Originally from Idaho, he moved to
Costa Rica in his early twenties and hasn’t looked back since. When asked what he does for a living,
he replied, “to be honest, as little as humanly possible.” Little did I know how fortunate I would be to have run into this lad.
On Saturday October 12, 2013
a few friends and I packed-up our surfboards and knapsacks, stoked to be off to Playa Avellanas. Playa Avellanas is a small, isolated surf town just south of Tamarindo on the Nicoya Peninsula. Consisting of a small convenience store, surf shop and hostel, its claim to fame is Lola's - a restaurant on the beach with a pet pig that can occasionally be seen swimming in the ocean to cool off.
All loaded up and ready to go to Playa Avellanas
Playa Avellanas
Lola's Restaurant
Lola
We stayed with David at Dracos, his beach house that doubles as a surf camp. With a pool, kitchen, bedrooms and a large living space, this was quite the step-up from hostel-living. Dracos also fosters a family feel with the seven of us cooking and eating dinners together, surfing together and hanging-out together. Our roommates - three dogs and a 9-week old kitten - are a constant source of entertainment. The largest of which, Draco, is a 180 pound Spanish Mastif and Great Dane mix after which the surf camp is named.
Dracos Surf Camp
The pool
Day bender
Draco, Scooby-Doo or a Horse?
Trinity and Mimi
The pristine beach of Avellanas can largely be attributed to the estuary that prevents people from building homes and businesses close to shore. However, it also makes for quite the trek to get to the beach.
The walk to Dracos Surf Camp
Daily trek through the estuary to get to the beach
Jeff with his rad surf board rack
Me and my baby
Can't be thankful enough to David for hooking us up here in Playa Avellanas. I've been having a blast and am stoked to be staying here for another week.
