I haven’t lived in the travel writing world long enough, but I have seen titles like “How traveling to that place changed me” so many times that I eventually started rolling my eyes every time I see one.
Maybe one day I’ll want to write it too, but now I only think that living in a place long enough can really change you. Visiting multiple places can just show you many things and teach you something if you are willing to learn. Every place has stories to tell, kind people to be grateful for, and memories you want to keep or you don’t.
Costa Rica was no different. It wanted to teach me something right away, starting with Pura Vida! The first thing you have to understand is that Vida is Pura. Capisce? Great! You can move on to your next life lesson. Stay hydrated. No making out in public.
It was my first trip together with ChatGPT, which is full of life lessons by itself. It was like traveling not just with a husband and kids, but with another set of parents—the compact ones—who strangely never complain about your behavior but always know what to do and where to go.
I was more than happy to follow my AI companion’s recommendations about appropriate morning alcoholic drinks at the airport lounge for the proper vacation start.
The Capital One Lounge at DFW was supposed to be quiet, spacious, and luxurious, but obviously it’s losing its exclusive feel. The food, the atmosphere, and the interior are still there, but it was a lot more crowded than expected. It could be irritating at times, but the right amount of alcohol always helps.
After a glass of mimosa, a relaxed buzz, and a noticeably lighter head—the vacation officially began with a great feeling as the plane left the ground, bringing freedom and adventure.
Somewhere over the Caribbean, we passed a glowing turquoise ring in the sea—Turneffe Atoll, a strange turquoise shape unlike anything I had ever seen before. From above, it looked almost unreal—its color too clear to be true. I made a mental note right away for a future snorkeling trip. If I ever get here, it will be my first destination, first spotted from an airplane.
The road from Liberia to La Fortuna took a little longer than three hours. It was not easy to survive; it was bumpy, windy, narrow, and full of potholes in some places. In about an hour, I started feeling sick. Luckily, the temperature in the mountains dropped to the point where it was possible to open the windows in our car.
Our misery ended at our first accommodation, a charming jungle bungalow hidden in lush vegetation. Evening lights on the porch with a can of our “welcome beer” and “welcome pineapple” had some healing effect on me.
La Fortuna, Day 1
The next day I pushed myself to new limits with water rappelling, canyoning, and Balsa River Class III white water rafting.
I had been rafting a couple of times before, but canyoning was a new animal for me.
It looked beautiful in pictures and videos, but when we reached our first abyss and the guides jumped down at full speed, my heart stopped. Is this what I really signed up for??? Mom, please take me out of here. I’m not sure I’ll get out of this alive.
Eventually, I did. I can’t remember the exact number of waterfalls. There were four or five of them, but all were magnificent. Everything around us was. Not to mention the thrill and excitement of flying down the rope, in and out of the roaring stream, around rolling masses of lush greenery.
It was my proudest traveler moment. Look at me: I’m not afraid of conquering new heights. I found a great adventure for the whole family, even the children said it was fun, and we are in one of the most beautiful places on the planet.
Great Costa Rican scenery was the perfect setting for our new adventures.
We managed to see three sloths that day. The sloth is Costa Rica’s poster child, and many would say that if you haven’t seen one while you’re there, the trip is wasted. El perezoso.
One was on the road to the rafting take-off point, hanging from a tree right along the roadside. Another was on the riverbank, and the third was rescued from the rapids by one of our rafting guides. He pulled the sloth from the river and carried it to the edge of the forest.
Yet another sloth was hanging in a cecropia tree on the riverbank. We were told that the leaves of the cecropia have psychedelic effects on animals. Oh, can I have one of those trees in my backyard, please? (For myself.)
La Fortuna, Day 2
Today was all about falling water. Since we had a day pass reservation at Tabacon hot springs from 10 AM, we had just enough time to visit La Fortuna waterfall first thing in the morning.
The waterfall is impressive and well worth its 500 steps down and then back up. We were among the first ones to show up and find our spot right in front of it to see a mesmerizing show of a roaring stream falling into the pool, creating an ever-hanging lacework of splashes.
We also took some time at the dedicated swimming spot down the stream to have a refreshing morning bath. Floating there was a little cold, but looking up at the soaring tropical cliffs from a natural pool was inspiring for the next tropical expectations.
The verdict: great place to visit in La Fortuna, but a great place to leave as soon as it gets packed. When an attraction is affordable enough for the general public, crowds are expected. So if you are going to the most expensive hot springs in La Fortuna, you’re not just paying for luxury amenities. You’re also buying enough time for solitude in nature.
Before our Tabacón check-in, we had just enough time for breakfast at restaurant Abuela Lucita. You can’t miss this restaurant because of the giant statue of the abuela at the entrance. It’s a strange place that wants to be a grand ballroom or a big resort but serves breakfast to just one family in the middle of an empty dining hall.
The plates were wooden, the portions generous. Gallo pinto, fresh plantains, squash stew over eggs, local cheese, and a soft bun sealed in a plastic bag, as if someone had packed it lovingly for the road. Simple, filling, and quietly perfect—Costa Rican comfort food after a waterfall workout.
After reading all the reviews and watching countless videos with travel recommendations, we had high expectations for Tabacon hot springs, and it still exceeded them.
The best landscape work I’ve ever seen. Gazillion shades of green and green textures certainly do the magic. Volcanic basins filled with thermal streams, creating cascades of big and small waterfalls running through tropical, lush gardens. At some places it feels secluded and magical; at other places it opens up magnificent views, cascades, and shows the power of water in all its might. Nothing could be more relaxing and meditative.
Sex in the Forest cocktail and watermelon juice. (The drinks are expensive there.)
Everyone in the family was impressed with Tabacon, and some even claimed it was the best vacation activity we had ever had. My son even told me it was better than a beach, which means a lot. My daughter was impressed with the luxury feel of it and had her White Lotus moment.
We had dinner at Restaurant de Fortuneño. One of the best ones in town. We came there a little earlier, so we were lucky to get a table right away. When we were leaving right before 6 PM, there was a waiting line. This is the place where I had the best tortilla soup (they call it classic Aztec soup).
La Fortuna felt like a massive tropical playground, with papaya fields stretching to the horizon and Arenal Volcano towering over everything. It was overcast most of the time—warm and humid.
We felt like we were staying on a large farm, surrounded by water in every form. Roaring, pouring, dropping. Even if we had stayed for a few more days, we could have been drawn into even more activities: sloth and farm tours, hanging bridges, horseback riding, volcano hikes… It felt like a circle of nature that never ends.
Monteverde, Day 3
Monteverde felt more touristy, more outdoorsy, trendier, and more expensive. We were staying in a modern designer house called Nest Chalet with a splendid view.
Monteverde draws a different kind of crowd—more hikers, more fleece jackets, more eco-conscious energy. It made me wonder if people who choose this kind of active, nature-focused travel tend to have higher incomes than those who go for beach resorts. No hard data—just a passing thought, standing in line behind someone wearing $300 hiking boots, talking about their last trip to Patagonia.
One of my highlights was the suspended bridge in Monteverde National Park. What a gem! One of the rare examples of how a piece of engineering fits so well into the surrounding nature. It has a charming and romantic feel to it, almost like a portal to another time and place.
Quetzal bird. So cute and colorful! Not just the splendid, rich colors of its feathers—it is so precious and adorable that it seems almost unexpected for a bird with presumed royal status.
We had a guided tour, which is why the guides were able to show it to us. They stay in contact with each other over walkie-talkies. Early July is not bird season in Monteverde. At this time, only the lucky one percent of visitors get to see a quetzal. He probably knew that we were coming and decided to show up.
If I ever go back to Monteverde, this lovely creature will be the main reason.
Another rare find for this season was a baby toucan of the toucanet species, peeking out of its nest, waiting for its parents to come back and feed it. As we were told, he was old enough to leave the nest within the next couple of days, so at this stage, parents try to feed them less to stimulate them to get out on their own and start looking for food.
The trails were not hard, but photogenic enough. The mossy trees took on a magic appearance along the way, and the cloud forest was opening its new mystic and mysterious views around every new turn.
The tour we took lasted a little longer than two hours, and then going to the hanging bridge and the main mirador point and back took us another two hours. It all ended up being an easy, educational, scenic half-day activity in a beautiful place.
After the active and “volcanic” adventures of La Fortuna and the nature wonders of Monteverde, learning more about Costa Rican flavors at the local coffee tour was a great choice to balance our trip activities.
We were recommended the El Trapiche tour—a family-run farm that was started back in the 1940s as a sugar cane plantation, but about 30 years ago converted to a coffee farm. They still keep a small sugar cane production on just enough scale to preserve their family history. Diego, the son of the farm owners, walked us through the whole process from coffee seed sprouts in the nursery to the cup at the table. Costa Rica contributes only 0.6% of the coffee to the world market, but they try to compensate for it through the higher quality of their beans. We were told that the most demanding buyers come from Japan, South Korea, and Australia (I will keep that in mind for future travel plans). Another good thing was to learn why we should go for a medium roast coffee while making our selections.
My favorite part of the tour was about cacao production. I loved every part of it: the solid and rustic shape of cacao fruits, the nut-like taste and structure of its beans, the taste of the final cocoa paste, and the grand finale with the Mayan “Drink of the Gods”—a mix of cocoa, spices, and cinnamon. The sugar cane part was okay. The fun part was making a “candy” paste out of processed cane molasses. After the tour, I took home three small packs of their coffee beans for gifts and souvenirs. Our day in Monteverde was rather an educational one, from local flora and fauna to Costa Rican agriculture.
Days 5-6
We left Monteverde in the morning after checking out some cute souvenir stores downtown. The road descending from there was just as bumpy as the one leading to Monteverde. Gorgeous green hills and mountains confirmed where the name of the area came from.
After a little more than three hours, we reached Tamarindo, one of Guanacaste’s main beach towns. The town itself has a chaotic, hippie vibe that one would expect somewhere in Southeast Asia. My first impression: nowhere to park and no way to beat the congested traffic.
The second disappointment was waiting for us at the house we rented. It looked great and really posh in the Airbnb pictures, but when we stepped inside, we were rather overwhelmed. Since the area is quite steep, the house is designed like a collection of tree houses, with the living spaces connected by an open patio. Very cool and modern, it was clearly built with the best intentions of saving energy. However, only the living room with the kitchen and two bedrooms have their own split-system AC units. None of the non-living spaces—the patio, showers, or bathrooms—have air conditioning, which makes the house almost unlivable in the middle of a hot summer day. The house cooled down after sunset. We found a big supermarket and bought enough groceries for a good dinner. I loved the big gas stove in the modern kitchen. To be fair, the best thing about the house was the view.
We had high hopes for Tamarindo Beach, but we lost them as soon as we got there. Shallow water, rather warm and not refreshing, brown sand, and crowds of people and cars. Yes, cars. The road runs close enough to the beach that you can set up your beach camp right next to it. The only thing I liked was the gorgeous backdrop of mountains and palm trees. I was under the impression that this place is not so much about the beach itself as it is about the local culture.
The house was surrounded by jungle with howler monkeys. They came for breakfast every morning. They sound scary. Last night and this morning we heard them a lot. They do not seem to care about us.
In the morning, after breakfast with monkeys, we followed the recommendation of our host and went to Playa Minas. It was not easy to get there. The last portion of the road was not very drivable. Uneven, unpaved, full of muddy potholes, but when you get there, you understand why surviving the road was worth it. When we stepped out of the place that was called a “parking lot,” seeing the soaring cliffs veiled with mist of the beach waves I exclaimed: “Wow, Montenegro!” Translating from my travel language to plain English meant: “What a great beach!”
Magnificent scenery, very swimmable, and almost no people. I could watch those blue waves forever. I didn’t want to touch my phone, didn’t want to know what time it was; just seeing the waves crashing at the shore and the endless weaving of greenery on the stone cliffs. Getting to the swim-eat-sleep-repeat mode.
Playa Conchal, Day 7
As soon as we pulled into Brasilito, a man in a vest appeared—as if materialized out of beach dust—and directed us toward a rough-looking lot, declaring, “Parking, $8.” They even had a sign to make it look somewhat official.
My husband, ever the realist, worried about retaliation—would they vandalize the car if we refused? And honestly, $8 isn’t much to us. But here’s the thing: I have no problem paying a fee if it goes to the local municipality—to improve infrastructure or, say, clean their beach (more on that later).
What I do mind is being scammed.
After a tense minute or two of debate, we agreed to skip it and drove away—only to spot an open, free parking spot directly across the street. We pulled in, locked the car, and walked toward the beach. When we came back later, someone in a yellow vest was already guarding it too. These guys are fast.
Playa Conchal is beautiful and it’s popular for a reason. It’s fantastic for swimming with gentle waves, soft sand, a gradual but fast descent into the deep, and really scenic backdrops.
As I said, the beach is popular and gets crowded quickly, although it’s so big that it does have enough space to spread out. We went to the farther part of the beach, and we were almost not bothered by people. Well, if there were almost no people, there were horses.
The horsemen on the beach looked scenic and romantic at first. But after the seventh or eighth horse group, one of them dropped piles of poop right in front of us, so it became part of my scenery then.
To finish the day, we drove out to Playa Avellanas for dinner at the well-known Lola’s—a beachfront spot that shows up on just about every “must-visit” list in the area.
Playa Avellanas itself had a dramatic, cinematic feel—massive waves, a picturesque coastline, and golden light bouncing off the water. The restaurant setting looked just right for the evening: tables and chairs in the sand, rope lights strung casually above, and the crashing surf as the backdrop. It all looked promising.
Unfortunately, the food didn’t match the view. I ordered something called the “Big Blue,” which sounded exciting, but turned out to be the worst thing we’ve eaten in Costa Rica so far. Bland, overpriced, and forgettable.
To be fair, the atmosphere softened the impression of mediocre food. It’s hard to stay irritated when you’re barefoot in the sand with a salty breeze in your hair. If we ever come back, it’ll be for a drink, not dinner.
At dinner, I thought we had spent enough time here to have some reflections on our trip.
I asked my son how he liked Costa Rica. He said it was just okay. We have been to better places. It made me a little sad, and I started questioning myself. Am I overinflating my good impressions of this country, following other people’s rave reviews? Maybe.
Because it’s true, we have been to “better” places. We have been to “different” places. Maui has dramatic scenery and much better developed infrastructure (higher price tag too). After the scenery of Norway and New Zealand, it’s hard to impress us with anything better.
So, yes, at this point we do have much higher expectations for places we are visiting, and I have expectations to see something jaw-dropping, like something I have never seen before. Would Costa Rica be that place, or just something quieter and rather low-key, but comfortable enough to keep coming back?
Anyway, I needed to put those thoughts aside and try to live in the moment. We still had two full days there.
Day 8
Playa Danta was our final beach. Grey sand makes it particularly unique. Close to Santa Catalina, a new development where you don’t have to jump through dirt potholes for 20 minutes to get to beautiful beach scenery. If a beach can even be called elegant, that would be Playa Danta.
Lunch at Pots and Bowls was rather overpriced, but it was enough to validate the free parking nearby.
Overall, Santa Catalina was a rather polished development with pastel-painted colonial-style buildings, photo spots, and expensive restaurants. Gorgeous beaches nearby make it worth visiting.
The Dog
We went back to our house for lunch and found a dog wandering around our house, clearly looking for food and attention. I’ve never seen so many stray dogs in any other country. But this one was not technically stray. Our host’s manager told us it’s a neighbor’s dog. They let it wander around and probably don’t feed it. It was clearly visible because it looked as skinny as a skeleton. Even being kind of emaciated, it looked so cute and sweet, not aggressive. It led us to a whole other story of Costa Rica and marked our stay in Tamarindo unforgettable in a very unexpected way. It led me to wrong conclusions that the dog was neglected, but in reality she was dying.
Every day after we came back from the beach, she was waiting again. She walked up to us as if she belonged—and maybe she did.
That afternoon and the next morning turned into Facebook posts asking for help, WhatsApp messages, and unexpected conversations with strangers.
It was a day of contrasts—beauty, heaviness, and quiet heartbreak.
We were leaving Costa Rica in the middle of the dog conversations, trying to pack and take the final photos of our beautifully designed house.
Did the Scenery Live Up?
Did the scenery live up to the expectations? Sure. Was the wildlife worth it? Undoubtedly. The beaches? The ones we visited were great. The food? Very good.
It was also the country where I saw an enormous variety of birds I have never seen anywhere else. My explanation of that was simple—the bugs. There are an enormous number of mosquitoes and parasites. But they ended up eating us. I did not expect to be a part of that food chain, and I came back home with more bite marks on me than I usually bring back from any other travels.
Costa Rica ended up being a country that did manage to fascinate me with nice views and break my heart to the point I was not prepared for.
This vacation was full of postcard moments and plenty of not-so-perfect real moments.
I met a dog with a name, a man with a temper and a heart. I witnessed how a small, fragile creature looking for compassion could connect people who otherwise would’ve never crossed paths—all trying, in their own way, to do something good.
That, to me, is already a whole other story worth telling. (Spoiler: I will.)
Not to mention the beautiful backdrop of tropical canopies, howler monkeys, gorgeous beaches, and tons of colorful birds carrying that eternal Pura Vida on their wings.
Maybe I’ll grow into loving this country eventually. At least it would be practical. It’s only a three-hour flight to Guanacaste, and there are so many affordable designer houses for rent.
