Our last morning in Drake Bay was leisurely. We had a quick dip in the ocean before breakfast, then sipped our coffee as we tried to imprint the view onto our psyches. Even at 8am, the air was already sticking to us like a thick paste. Once we’d packed our bags, Karen the superhero drove us over a rubbly track (I wouldn’t go so far as “road”) to Drake Bay airport. Even “airport” might give a wrong impression. We entered a single room with pallid yellow walls and five industrial fans whizzing overhead. No one was there except another couple.
After a time, someone arrived to check us in to our flight (very old school – we hadn’t been able to do this online). We duly weighed our hold luggage…and then we got on the scale ourselves while holding our hand luggage. This was an indication that we were not getting on a standard plane, and my skin began to prickle. About twenty minutes after our scheduled departure time, two tiny twelve-seater propellor planes skidded down the air strip.
The man who had checked us in loaded up our bags on a trolley, and wheeled it out to the planes. He then opened the underside of one of them, much as you would for a coach, and popped the bags in. Slightly apprehensively, we walked towards our fate. Being at the front of the queue, I squeezed myself through to the front row of seats (Danny got the window). Twelve of us somehow managed to fit in, some looking more comfortable than others. Once we were settled, two more people tried to squeeze on. “Excuse me!” They apologised as they made their way past. They were the pilots. With my heart in my mouth and having said my goodbyes to Danny, we prepared for take off.
I didn’t notice as we left the ground – we seemed to glide effortlessly off the runway and hover above the sea. We climbed higher, so that the blues and greens of the waves shimmered in a pattern stitched with white foam. We stayed fairly low – we could pick out the beach we’d lingered on in Manuel Antonio a few days before. We soon turned inland and skimmed the green peaks. After forty-five minutes, the sprawl of San Jose came into view, nestled in a basin between gloomy mountains and volcanoes. At this point, things got a bit bumpy. I had a very clear view of the dials and screens, and was slightly alarmed by a yellow sign which was flashing “low fuel”. Thankfully we soon came into land. The whole cabin breathed a collective sigh of relief. Grateful to have solid ground beneath our feet, we caught an Uber downtown (successfully avoiding the taxi faff we’d had on our first arrival into San Jose airport).
After a quick bite to eat we wandered around to get our bearings. We walked down a pedestrianised road which was like Oxford Street but worse, with music blaring from all cardinal directions and storefronts selling bags, stationery, and general knick-knacks. We perused the Mercado Central, which sold everything edible including fruit, vegetables, herbs, meat, ceviche and more. We passed the Museo del Jade and the Museo Nacional de Costa Rica. We then headed north-east to the trendy Calle 33 and Barrio Escalante – an area near the university with bars, restaurants, and good vibes. We had an Italian meal (just to break up the ubiquitous rice and beans), then took an Uber back to the hostel.
We had a troubled night as Danny was severely glutened. So far we’ve been fortunate as a lot of the food here is naturally gluten free, but there was some suspected cross-contaminated oil which had significant repercussions. We had a slow morning, then with a brave face (and a lot of positive assurances that he was ok), Danny and I took a slow meander back into the centre. We met Caro, a young opera singer, who led us through the streets with the benefit of a local’s perspective, on a free walking tour. We always like to do these in a new city, as the guides provide so much history and cultural context. Caro was extremely knowledgeable and gave us a history of the city, and explained the social and political “weather” as well as showing us some key sights, like the National Theatre, Parliament, Chinatown, and the museums. She explained how colonisers had tended to live in the north, which is where the fancy houses are. The south tends to be cheaper and a bit rougher around the edges. She also explained how most people live in the suburbs, and there’s now a big drive to get people living in the city itself, so that more people are around in the evenings and it becomes more buzzy, vibrant and safe.
After the tour we headed back to the hostel for the hottest part of the day. We then paid a visit to the National Museum of Costa Rica to learn more about the country’s history. We marvelled at pre -Columbian stone carvings, and learned about the indigenous peoples, and the suffering endured after the Europeans arrived. We also learned about more recent history, including the social liberalism which led to the nation abolishing its army and funding education and healthcare. After filling our brains we found a vegan, gluten-free cafe which made nourishing homemade soup (a very safe option), then headed back to the hostel for our final night.
Costa Rica has been a sublime riot of rainforests, mountains, beaches and rivers. We could never have imagined how much wildlife we would experience here, or how immersive the different ecological environments would be. It’s impossible to pick out our favourite places or activities – there have been so many moments where we’ve been filled with awe and wonder. This trip has been everything I’d dreamed, and most satisfyingly, I’ve been able to reconnect with a sense of adventure and the unknown, which has been harder to find as I settle (sometimes too comfortably) into my life. The most precious part of this experience has been sharing it with Danny, who is the most amenable companion. He’s very good at carrying bags, navigating maps, and making sure we have snacks on hand. He also constantly makes me laugh, and helps me to connect with a sense of appreciation for love, the world and for life itself that I wouldn’t have without him. Our next adventure is probably a long while away, but the memories of this one will be etched into happy little hearts.