Fall 2019 was my follow-through on a commitment to travel more, as I’ve always wanted to do. October was my beautiful solo-vacation to Puerto Rico, November brought me to Canada, and lastly was Costa Rica in December. My best friend, who is such a kindred soul, and I had talked for years about going on a vacation together. Somehow, we brought this into fruition – kind of last minute – and decided we’d head to Central America. I had always heard wonderful things about CR and was super stoked to be able to visit myself. And so, the research began once again. We chose to spend majority of our time on the Caribbean side of the country, because when having the option of Pacific or Caribbean waters, it wasn’t much of a difficult decision at all.
If you haven’t noticed, my travel stories are all connected – everything is anyway. The conversation I had with a friend before Canada mostly came about because in my growth, I had started focusing intently on honesty, which is the highest value that I hold, and I was encouraging it within all of my relationships; or else, those relationships would no longer serve me because I felt they’d be disingenuous.
About 3 weeks before the CR trip, I reached out to my travel mate.
“I know… and I’m processing and am okay, but I just want you to know I know, so you have time to process, and hope that we can talk at some point.”
For me, this trip was more than just getting away – it was an opportunity to further grow our beautiful relationship. I was in a space of joy and abundance and appreciating the life I was creating for myself, and wanted to share that with someone I deeply love and care about; and assist in our individual and mutual enlightenment.
I expressed my desire to stay in Puerto Viejo, a small port town on the southeastern coast. It’s also known as Puerto Viejo de Talamanca or Puerto Viejo de Limon. There is literally one road to get there from the capital, but it was recently paved so it’s not too treacherous to get to. It’s known for its laidback culture and mix of Afro-Caribbean, Bribri Indian and tico (mestizo Costa Rican) influence.
I booked our first Air BnB, but between finals, work and tending to my self-care, I voiced that my main goal was to have beach time and see a sloth, but I was open to everything else, and left most of the planning in my friend’s hands.
I made my airline reservations on Southwest – roundtrip tickets were $580, and I had a short layover in Fort Lauderdale each way; leaving on a Thursday rising (5:30am departure to be exact) and returning Monday night. My friend – we’ll call her Dani, for the sake of this saga – and I planned on meeting at the San Jose airport. We both had a layover at FLL, but her initial flight had been late so there was no time to find each other for a warm embrace midway.
I was able to grab my coveted window seat and got comfortable. At some point during the flight, as my eyes were closed, I could feel the person next to me reaching across me repeatedly. I opened my eyes and noticed she was trying to take photos. I offered to take a few for her. She didn’t speak English, but as always, I speak just enough Spanish to communicate so we had a little conversation. Halfway through the flight, she reached into her bag and unwrapped some homemade empanadas. So much happiness filled my heart when she offered me one, and I gratefully accepted.
As I landed at SJO around 12:40pm, I made my way through the small airport and headed towards customs.
“I’m towards the front of the line,” Dani texted me as I approached the crowded area and got in the back of the line. I stopped and surveyed the room, but she’s about 5’2 so… yeah. Suddenly, I spotted these hands bouncing up and down and waving. A huge smile came across my face and I got out of line and ran towards the front, giving her the greatest hug. We got our passport stamps and made our way outside. She had booked a shuttle to take us to our lodging, and as we walked up and down the crowded sidewalk, saying, “No, gracias,” to the many men asking if we needed a ride. We were supposed to meet the driver in front of a café, and Dani asked one of the men where it was. Next thing we know, a man came up to us and asked, “Dani?” How they knew who we were, I did not ask questions, but it was our driver. We asked for a moment – we had both left cold climates and were burning up in our clothes and wanted to change, so we hustled to a bathroom and put on something cooler.
One other male was on the shuttle with us. He was from Europe – Sweden or something; coming to visit his daughter who had moved to CR to live for a while. Dani and I were comfortable having our own conversation because he said it sounded like we talked too fast for him to keep up anyway. We made our way through the winding roads in San Jose for about an hour and then entered a mountainous area, where the real journey began.
After a few hours, we pulled to the side of the road and stopped at a little restaurant for dinner and a cold beer. Dani and I were under the impression that the excursion to Puerto Viejo would take about 5 hours, and had told our hosts we’d arrive close to 6pm. Six came and went, as did 7pm, and then 8, and by about 9 or 9:30pm, we pulled up the gravel road that led to our place of rest.
Thank. F*cking. God.
The hosts were a married couple, and the husband came out to meet us. Being the wonderfully hospitable person that he was, he took the time to show us everything, but all I could think was Okay, sir, please go. Please.
As soon as he said goodnight, I ripped off my clothes and knocked out.
