Part 1 of 4
In early 2022, Bunny Kramer — the founder and owner of the All Women, All Trails: Hiking and Backpacking facebook group and a long-time online friend — asked me if I’d like to join her in hosting a women’s trip to Costa Rica. I leapt at the opportunity. I first visited Costa Rica in 2010 as part of a college work-study experience hosted by Vida Volunteer Travel. I traveled as part of a veterinary medical volunteer team and we spent a week in Costa Rica, followed by a week in Nicaragua, hosting pop-up vet clinics in rural towns. These clinics provided spay/neuter services, vaccines, de-worming, and wellness exams for pets in areas where vet care wasn’t readily or easily accessible. This trip changed my life and left me longing to go back to Costa Rica some day; I had fallen in love with the landscapes and the culture and wanted so badly to spend more time immersed in this beautiful country. It took me 13 years to make that dream a reality, but in February, 2023, I finally returned to Costa Rica.
This is a multi-page blog. Use the links below to navigate between pages, or read through to the end of each page and select “next.”
- Arrival
- Day 1: A Solo Sojourn to Rescate Wildlife Rescue Center
- Day 2: The San Jose Central Market
- Day 3: A Wild Adventure to La Paz Waterfall Gardens
January 28, 2023
Arrival
The sky is still dark when I first awake after a not-so-restful night’s sleep in the Casita. I try to quietly rise and slip into the camper’s small bathroom, but it is nearly impossible not to wake my mom and Kris in this small space. Casitas weren’t really made for three adults, but we are making it work. I think to myself that maybe I can go back to sleep, but that turns out to be wishful thinking. I’m too anxious about my day full of flying, and too stressed about finishing packing. I scroll through my phone and make a packing list while I wait for the others to decide it’s time to get up.
Once we are all stirring it’s time to get in gear and prepare to fly. I repack one final time and we hop in the truck and head to DFW airport.
Field note: you have to pay a fee just to drive into this airport and drop someone off, what a rip-off!
As we are driving through the spaghetti of airport roads I glance at my ticket and realize I’m at the wrong airport! I’m supposed to be flying out of Dallas Love Field! Not Dallas Fort Worth! Thankfully, these two airports aren’t very far apart– only about 30 minutes — and I’m early. We scoot over to the correct airport, my mom snaps a photo, and I’m out of the car and on my way, whether I have everything or not.
My first flight from Dallas to Houston is turbulent but uneventful and short, only 44 minutes long. I arrive in Houston to a two hour layover, during which I decide to have a margarita at a Mexican restaurant across from my gate. There I meet an older couple and also two women who are on my same flight to Costa Rica. We share some small talk while having our drinks and part ways to board the plane. This flight is three and a half hours long, and I have the distinct pleasure of getting stuck next to a burly, manspreading, snoring, farting guy for the entire flight. That along with the half a dozen kids seated in the seats immediately around me made this a not-so-pleasant flying experience, but we have a fairly smooth ride and land safely and on time so I can’t complain too much.
SJO isn’t particularly well marked or intuitive, but I follow the masses and make it through passport check and customs without any hiccups. Prior to arriving, I’d arranged WhatsApp communication with Louis, the owner of the hostel I’m staying at tonight, so that I could contact him via wifi. I send him a text that I’ve landed and will let him know when I’m ready for pickup, and I make my way to the pre-arranged location. I have a bit of trouble finding it, and I’m not sure I ended up where he wanted me to but he found me. I get into the car and am quickly reminded why I have no desire to drive a car in Costa Rica– drivers here are wild! We arrive at Gardens House Hostel and I am blown away by the beauty of it. I had forgotten how airy and open Costa Rican homes are. They are almost all open to air and lacking air conditioning, but somehow they still are comfortable. I get checked in and shown to my dorm, where I meet my roommate Doris from Zurich. She’s been traveling around for four weeks and is headed home tomorrow.
As I’m preparing to take a shower I suddenly realize I’m missing a piece of my luggage: I small white travel pillowcase with my puffy, a set of Smartwool base layers, and a Melly fleece inside that I was using as a pillow! I almost panic and then realize that isn’t going to do any good so I run back out of my room and find Louis, explain to him what has happened (thankfully he speaks some English because I would never have gotten this across in Spanish), and he agrees to take me back to the airport to look for it. I must have dropped it while getting into the car. We race back– another wild ride– and I hop out and find a security guard who was standing there when I left. With hand gestures and limited Spanish I attempt to ask if she has seen a pillow. “Almohada?” I ask, pretty sure I’m not saying that word correctly. She begins to laugh and shake her head side to side, saying, “oh noooo.” She points inside to a garbage can and I run over. Sure enough, there is my pillow, and it’s soaked with stinking brown liquid. I hold my breath and fish it out, returning to the car and Louis shamefully. I tell him it smells so badly and he says not to worry, he has a baby and has to smell her spit up and poopoo all the time, so it doesn’t bother him. Secretly I think he has to be laughing at me and feeling sorry for me, but he doesn’t show it. We arrive back at the hostel and I’m able to throw these items in the washing machine before taking a much needed shower and heading to bed.
Adventure Like A Girl 
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