Coming to Love Travel part 1 - Paris, Geneva, Cozumel

This is the first of an occassional series of posts addressing how I came to love traveling and why I do it today.

My love affair with travel started young, and built slowly.

Sadly, I did not take this.

I was 10 years old when I first visited Europe. My dad had business in Geneva one summer, so my parents and I added Paris to the itinerary and made it a family vacation. I remember how Paris and Geneva dazzled me so. How unique and fairy-tale looking those cities were compared to the generic, cookie-cutter look of my native Southern California! Didn't great empires fight wars over these cities? Didn't my fourth grade teacher tell me that? And speaking of history, hadn't history been written in far away cities across the Atlantic in countries like France and Switzerland? Gothic cathedrals, stone villas, endless green hillsides, and the romance of strange languages spoken in winding cobblestone alleys through which kings and crusaders once walked left a magical impression on my 10-year old mind. "Paris must be the most exotic, exiciting city in the world," I told my parents the day we walked past Notre Dame Cathedral.

Nope. Didn't take this, either.

Dad had meetings to attend in Geneva, leaving Mom and I ample time to explore the city and its calm environs. One afternoon, she and I just sat on a bench along the lakeshore and watched the people go by. I remember they were well-dressed. Young men wore dark colored three piece suits and hats. Young women wore conservative dresses and heels. Old men in plaid jackets and dress pants held the hands of stately dressed old women wearing pearl necklaces and walked slowly past. Everyone carried themselves with a certain understated elegance lacking in beachy Southern California. These Swiss seemed so...European...to me. "Geneva must be the most beautiful, wealthiest, and peaceful place in the world," I thought in between lunches at outdoor cafes and afternoon strolls with my Mom around Lake Geneva. I wanted to see more of Switzerland, of Europe. All too quickly, though, Dad's meetings ended and the vacation did too. The three of us returned home. School started again in September, and so did the afternoon cartoons. Slowly I forgot how wonderous it felt to be far away from home, but my daydreams took me back to Europe every once and again.


I had visited family in the Phillippines prior to that Euopean summer trip, and again as a teenager. It was not until my late 20s, though, that I rediscovered how free traveling made me feel...and how exciting travel was. In March 2004, I went on a a spring break trip to Cozumel, Mexico with friends from my MBA program. I thought getting out of frigid Pennsylvania and into some tropical sun would do me a world of good. And I had never traveled abroad with a group of friends before. I wanted to see what that was like.

Sascha, your author, Kristen, and Lee (March 2004)

For five days, my friends and I snorkled, explored, ate and drank. More importantly, I made memories. I fondly remember my friends Sascha, Lee and Kristen trying to teach me how to drive a stick shift on a dirt road with the old jeep we rented. After stalling out four times and forcing terrible noises out of the ancient transmission, I gave up; but I didn't stop laughing about the experience for days. I remember, too, exploring vine-covered old ruins with my friends, snorkeling in a crystal blue sea, and langorously sunbathing beneath a sapphire sky.

One night around one in the morning, I left my friends at loud, gaudy Senior Frog's to explore San Miguel de Cozumel on foot, alone, in the wee hours of Saturday morning. I'll never forget walking away from the strip of tourist bars and through the town's residential area. The night was humid, steamy, and I had it all to myself. I walked the deserted streets and alleys for an hour, just enjoying the night. An hour after I started, I found an open air restaurant in the front of someone's house. The owner, his wife and their friend were gathered around a TV watching an awful 1980's gang fight movie that I remembered was a staple of late night TV in my youth. I rolled up with a big smile and an "Hola!" and sat down at one of the many open tables.

Hamburguesa? No! (March 2004)

The owner looked a little confused as to why a tipsy gringo would wander so far from the main strip in search of food at 2AM on a Saturday and helpfully asked while pointing at a picture of a hamburger, "Hamburguesa?" A hamburger? Damn it! They know I'm American! But how? Could it have been my New Balance sneakers, khaki shorts, and Polo shirt? But I'm sporting a tan! "No gracias," I calmly replied. "Tres carne tacos por favor y queso y papas y agua." I hung out there for an hour, eating and conversing with my hosts in laughably incompetent Spanish. I tried to tell them how the terrible movie ended but I didn't have the Spanish to describe it, and they lacked the English to help me. They did nod often, though, and smile frequently too. It must have been nearly sunrise when I finished the last French fry, bid my hosts "adios", and located a cab to take me back to my hotel. Ha! Now that's a Saturday morning. Take that, boring Orange County, CA and frigid Pittsburgh, PA.

Sascha, Lee, and Kristen (March 2004)

That early morning sojourn wasn't even my favorite memory from that trip. My favorite memory came at the end of a day driving around the island with my friends in our beatup, old rented jeep and stopping to explore whatever caught our fancy. We left mid-morning that day to give us plenty of time to be out. By late that afternoon, we finally reached the far side of the island, the western side. We were tired and the afternoon light was just starting to show hints of gold as the sun moved lower in the sky. We came upon a reggae bar on the beach, not far from some cute houses, painted brightly in yellows, oranges and blues. We stopped the jeep, got out, ordered a few rounds of cerveza, drank and talked. Mostly, though, we savored our beers and the breezy afternoon together as our trip, and the day, wound down.

A decade of career ambition put my wanderlust in hibernation, but did not bury it. I HAD to do this traveling thing again, I thought.

Home and Away - 6-30-2012

A few days ago, Dad told me something touching. He and I were talking about my recent travels and my desire to take this year off to travel more, enjoy my life and generally just "be." I told him, perfectly truthfully, that I haven't headed out again since returning from Costa Rica in late May because I've really enjoyed being home. I've also really enjoyed catching up with friends in LA, picking up new interests locally, meeting new people, and visiting San Francisco to reconnect with some of my best friends from business school (and to reconnect with the coolest city in America...sorry LA!).




Playa Samara, Costa Rica

You'll remember that a big insight from Costa Rica was that I should love and honor my friends and family by being with them, not just by thinking about them. Being kind and loving to my parents has remained a part of that, as was visiting my friends in San Francisco...friends who never gave up on our friendship despite me putting off visiting them for over two years as I focused on my finances to the exclusion of all else. I've also just enjoyed the opportunity to relax and savor my every moment at home without the pressure of a job or a commute or the weight of a boss' or staff's...or my own...expectations. Savoring my life daily, "la dolce vita" as it's called in Italy and "pura vida" as a Costa Rican would name it, was an additional purpose behind saving hard, rejecting consumerism, turning my back on television's vapidity, getting my finances in order and taking this extended break. In short, I've been home instead of traveling because being home has felt great, it is what I've wanted to do recently and...because I can.

I told Dad all of this and he said he really liked that I felt that way. He said that he and Mom are happy to have me here and they're both happy to see me so satisfied with my life. Then he told me that he hopes I always feel welcome at home, because indeed, I am welcome here. All the time. Forever.

I thought that was beautiful. Thanks Dad!




Playa Samara, Costa Rica

Still though, the road is whispering to me again and I can feel my restlessness building. I've started thinking of the other trips I intend to take this year and early next year. I'll almost certainly set foot in Panama for an extended trip before this summer is done. I'll be visiting New York in late summer or early autumn to see more friends I ignored for years. I'm going to fly to Vancouver to visit friends I made on the road for a short trip as well. Ecuador, Peru and the Amazon, with its mysterious ayahuasca vine, whisper to me as they have for years now. Chile, and its reputably libertarian politics and burgeoning economy, calls me, as it has for a year or so now. Even Italy whispers to me sweetly across the years, like a lost lover. As much as I have seen of Italy, I never grew tired of her.

I love being home, but the road calls me back to it. So soon, I'll be abroad once more...learning, growing, and forging myself into a stronger and wiser man...fulfilling the purpose of my time away from my career. Indeed, one of the things I'm working on during this break is listening to the universe when it quietly directs me somewhere. Looking back, I've nearly always waited until the whisper was raised to a scream because I've also nearly always tried to ignore this guidance. I'm listening now, though,...and I'm trying to listen better.

Review of Hostel Las Mariposas in Playa Samara - 6-21-2012



Hostel Las Mariposas in Playa Samara, Costa Rica



Hostel Las Mariposas in Playa Samara, Costa Rica

Looking for a bright, fun, spacious, clean, airy hostel directly in Playa Samara with a great hostess? Look no further! Hostel Las Mariposas is the only hostel actually inside the town of Playa Samara (Casa Brian is about one mile outside of town -- see review here). The hostel's proximity to the Intercultura Spanish language school makes Las Mariposas a great place to stay if you're going to be studying at the the school, by the way. Leonie, a friendly and outgoing Dutch woman who I befriended on my 2009 trip to Costa Rica before she owned Hostel Las Mariposas, is the owner and your hostess. She knows all the events going on in town, can give you directions to local beaches or other towns, and is an all around delight to talk with. The hostel even has a guidebook available about Samara and its surroundings that will give you information on local restaurants, things to do and tours to take.




The first thing you'll notice about Las Mariposas is how airy it is. The front of the hostel has a large and colorfully painted and tiled covered patio with a communal dining table and three hammocks. The space is breezy, which is important in Costa Rica's heat, and frequently has people hanging out. There is a second communal dining table and another pair of hammocks underneath a roof further back in the hostel past the sink, freezer and garden. All in all, you will find plenty of space and plenty of opportunity to meet other folks, or to find a quiet spot all to yourself.






Free hugs!

Hostel Las Mariposas in Playa Samara, Costa Rica

The second thing you'll notice is how pretty the grounds are. The hostel's countless flowers and private garden give Las Mariposas a homey feel. The reward is endless blooms of pink, red, orange and yellow that add to the hostel's relaxed, welcoming atmosphere. Also be sure to ask about the mango tree that gives hugs. It gives mangoes, too.






The third thing you'll notice is how cool everyone here. Leonie herself is endlessly patient and unremittingly friendly, as are the folks who help out around the hostel. Living in paradise will do that to you, I guess. The hostel's relaxed feel seeps into everyone who stays here. It's easy to spend an extra couple days here lying in the hammocks and chatting with other guests before you notice you were supposed to be in Tamarindo yesterday. I stayed at Las Mariposas for eight days in May 2012 and was impressed by the friendly and interesting people who flowed through. The coolest thing is that me and the other guests barbecued fresh fish and meat together twice. Beat that, Holiday Inn!

Your author on the left with new friends

Hostel Las Mariposas has one private room with a private bathroom (no sink, though) for $38 per night, one room with three beds for $15 per bed per night, and an eight room dorm room with beds for $15 per night. I only stayed in the private room, which gets stuffy at night but does come with a fan. Breakfast is $4; I suggest you go for the pancakes. The hostel accepts volunteers, which means you can stay for free if you help check in guests, change sheets, sweep up and such. I definitely recommend contacting Las Mariposas in advance to work out any volunteer arrangement; don't just show up and expect to stay for free in exchange for working.



Hostel Las Mariposas in Playa Samara, Costa Rica

So, how do you get here? First, there are signs all through Samara and the main road into town directing you to the hostel. I found the following to be the easiest way to find Hostel Las Mariposas. Walk down Samara's main street all the way to the beach. Turn right along the beach and walk until you reach the Intercultura campus; it's on the beach about 200 yards from the main street. You'll know you've found the campus because it's big, grassy and is filled with young North Americans and Western Europeans sitting on the grass or lounging in hammocks "studying" Spanish. Keep walking along the beach until you've reached the end of the campus. You'll see a dirt road that runs from the beach inland next to the school. Take that road and follow it another 100 yards. Hostel Las Mariposas will be right in front of you.



Check out the hostel's website at www.hostelmariposas.com and its Facebook page at www.facebook.com/hostelmariposas. Get in contact directly by hostel.lasmariposas@gmail.com

Review of Casa Brian in Playa Samara - 5-12-2012

You should stay here. Really.

In 2009, I was going to stay here for four days and stayed for 19. That's how amazing the atmosphere here is. This time, I stayed for a full three weeks before moving to my other friend's hostel (post is forthcoming) to support her business. Casa Brian's owner, Brian, is a late 50-something Canadian ex-commercial fisherman, brewer, wild mushroom picker, logging camp cook, and God knows what else. He's almost deaf in one ear, so don't freak out if he's yelling at you. He's not angry; he's hard of hearing.

Brian himself is an amazing man with too many funny, tragic, adventuresome, and interesting stories to count. You may ask, “are his stories real?” The answer is yes...he's lived a more full and interesting life than damn near anyone you've met. Even better, he tells his stories with such detail and aplomb you'll think you were right there with him traveling Morocco, on a fishing boat off the Queen Charlotte islands, or going door to door in Southern California.

Never in my life have I stayed someplace where so many cool, open, interesting, relaxed people congregated, only to leave and then be replaced by people equally as cool, open, interesting, and relaxed as them. When it's full, Casa Brian's residents barbecue and party together like every night is Saturday night. When the Casa is slow, it feels easy and relaxed like a Sunday morning.



Dinner with friends at Casa Brian in Playa Samara, Costa Rica

The other thing awesome about this place is that I have always met people here who were somehow directly related to the purpose of my trip. It happened last time and it happened again this time. Three years ago, I was desperate to feel free and I wanted people who could help me get there. Brian himself is one of the most freedom loving people I've met and I don't know how many hours he and I would talk about where I've been and where I wanted to head in my life. On that trip, I also met someone who strongly encouraged me to pursue my ideal life, words that carried me through the subsequent three years, and helped bring me to where I am today. This trip, I met several Brits and Canadians involved in non-traditional medicine and healing, Costa Ricans who taught me about unconditional love through their stories about missionary work in Africa, and seven awesome people from Vancouver (seriously, half of that city must be traveling in Costa Rica right now) with whom I took surfing lessons, barbequed and visited an animal sanctuary. And of course, I spent many afternoons philosophizing with Brian himself on the nature of love and freedom on this trip.

Yeah, you should stay here.



Casa Brian in Playa Samara, Costa Rica

Now, logistical details...Brian has three private rooms that sleep two. These go for $35 per night for one person and $45 per night total for two people. He has two dorm rooms, one sleeps five and the other sleeps six. Dorm beds go for $17 per night. Included in your stay is an all you can eat breakfast of the freshest and sweetest fruit you've ever eaten, toast and jam, and beans and rice. On Sundays, Brian makes banana pancakes. Yum! Four hammocks, one couch and a communal dining table make it easy to make new friends.



Casa Brian in Playa Samara, Costa Rica

The property is about one mile outside of downtown Samara. The easiest way to get here is to walk to the end of Samara's main street, turn left at the beach, walk along the beach for about one mile, walk past the last hotel this far out of town (Las Brisas Del Pacifico) and follow the path that runs past Las Brisas Del Pacifico until it turns into a dirt road. Casa Brian will be on the left side of the dirt road. It has a white metal gate and a small sign that says “Casa Brian.” Contact Brian at casabrian@hotmail.com. You won't be sorry. He's also in the current Lonely Planet guide to Costa Rica.

Just don't stay too long in the private rooms. I'll be back soon and I do enjoy the private room Brian puts me in.

Four Can't Miss Bars in Echo Park

Echo Park is a neighborhood in Los Angeles, CA just north of downtown, off the 101 freeway. Los Angeles' film industry was centered in Echo Park before World War I, and the neighborhood served as the backdrop for many silent films. The film Mi Vida Loca explored Latina gang life in Echo Park in the 1990s. Several new apartment and condominium buildings were built in the northern portion of Echo Park as spillover from the late 1990s and early 2000s renaissance downtown.

But don't let the new wine bar fool you. Gentrification hasn't sterilized this neighborhood yet. Today, working class Latinos and Millennial generation hipsters (and yes, some plaid clad Gen Xers too) frequent shadowy dive bars serving $3 Pabst, eat at ethnic restaurants in operation for generations, and nod their heads at live music venues tucked away in the shadows, safe from the judgmental eyes of pretentious Westsiders.




The Short Stop

Only a pink neon COCKTAILS sign advertises this former cop bar turned gay bar turned hipster haven. The shadowy back room houses a pool table, a collection of police badges, and dark leather booths for quiet conversation. The narrow bar quenches the thirst of straight twenty-something "actors" and "actresses" financing edgy entertainment industry lives with Mom and Dad's green. Come for Super Soul Sundays from 10pm to 2am to dance on a packed floor to Motown oldies and 80's favorites. Ignore the worn wooden sign declaring "DANCING IZ EVIL." Groups of skinny-jeaned, pirate-mustachioed hipsters get their nicotine fix on the outdoor porch. Come early for a seat at the bar because Sunday nights also feature crowds four deep trying to get a drink.

No cover
Full bar 5pm to 2am
Super Soul Sundays 10pm to 2am
Sunset & Sutherland at 1455 Sunset Blvd., Los Angeles, CA. Phone: (213) 482-4942


The Little Joy
The kind of bar I would run if I were a tagger. Enjoy two beers on tap, play on a worn pool table, cut shadowy deals in the few booths hidden in corners, or chat up the pretty blond in the black dress with leggings underneath as you both stand around because furniture is so sparse. Surprisingly well-lit for a dive, but how else could you enjoy all the graffiti, sketches, and street art four walls can handle? Bring cash because they don't take credit cards. Cheap drinks and a DJ spinning funk offer comfort to patrons who didn't want to deal with the line at The Short Stop. More diverse crowd than the hipster-only Short Stop. Makes up with real what it lacks in hip.

No cover
Cash only
Full bar
Sunset & Portia at 1477 Sunset Blvd., Los Angeles, CA. Phone: (213) 250-3417






The Gold Room
Well-lit with tiled floors, leather booths, and a largely well-dressed, young, female clientele. Sometimes the entire staff wears tuxedos. Fiber optic lighting at the bar cycles through a rainbow of colors. And was that a neon palm tree? What is this, Miami? Sit at the polished granite bar and get all the free roasted peanuts you can eat, if you don't mind shelling them yourself. Mirrored wall next to the booths and behind the bar make this small spot seem larger. Loud, eclectic jukebox plays mariachi, bachata, classic rock and metal. A good reprieve from the local dive bar routine.

Full bar
Food
1558 Sunset Blvd., Los Angeles, CA. Phone: (213) 482-5259


El Prado
Westside class without the arrogance. Long and wide light brown bar with plenty of stools offer ample opportunity to meet locals. Modern art, mellow lighting, and light colored wood paneling lend this wine and beer bar a chill atmosphere. Staff spins LPs from a sizable collection next to the wine bottles. Wine and beer selection hand written in white wax pen on the mirror wall behind the bar instead of in a menu is a nice touch. Enjoy olives, walnuts or pecans for $3, or spring for the cheese plate for $7. Impress a first date by ordering a glass of an obscure New Zealand Pinot Noir she's never heard of for $7. Or commiserate with a friend over a $3 glass of the finest Portuguese boxed wine you've ever cried into.

Wine and beer only
Food
Open 7 days a week, 6pm to 2am
1805 Sunset Blvd., Los Angeles, CA. Phone: (213) 483-8609

Special Bonus:
Taco Zone Truck
The only taco truck I've seen on Yelp with a 4.5 star rating and over 150 reviews. Didn't stop them from getting firebombed(!) in mid-2009, though. Jealous competitors? Thankfully, Taco Zone is back as of early July 2009. Enjoy steaming, flavorful, tacos, burritos, and quesadillas. Taco Zone even set up a few chairs, just for you. At 2:30AM, how could you possibly go wrong with three chicken tacos for $1.25 each, and a full salsa bar? Go for the dark orange salsa if you like hot. Tacos served open face on soft tortillas the way they're supposed to be done, and not in crunchy shells like at corporate behemoth Taco Bell. Walk across the parking lot to Vons and wash down your late night taco with a Snickers bar.

Food
Open well past 2AM.
Parked at Alvarado and Montana, on the street next to the Vons supermarket parking lot and near a car wash.

Special thanks to Echo Park resident and my guide, Nima Samadi, who took me on an amazing five hour bar crawl and taco fest one Sunday night and Monday morning.

Winding Down - Friday 4-17-2009

This post's photo credit goes to Juan.

Today is my second to last day in Playa Samara, until I come back anyway. I’m sad to go, but I also feel ready to leave. I have loved my trip here, but tourist season is done, there are few travelers, my friends have left the hostel, and I am feeling a bit of traveling fatigue. My vacation feels like it is winding down. It will be nice to be home and among familiar things. I’ll change my mind about being home when the boredom sets in. Of course, I can always go traveling again when the boredom sets in.

I don’t do much during the day. Jane comes over in the evening. She had come by in the morning and was quite angry about the events of her morning. I ask how she’s doing now and she tells me that she is better. She tells me about her day when Sandra suggests we head to the beach to watch the sunset. We sit at a bench on the beach not far from Casa Brian. Already, the sky at the east end of the beach is darkening to indigo, and the western sky is orange, the sun minutes away from disappearing behind the hills. The clouds change from light grey to dark grey in the fading evening light. Some clouds show orange highlights where the setting sun strikes them just right. The waves come in strongly and loudly, reaching high on the beach before retreating into the ocean.

The two women speak in Spanish. I only understand the occasional word, but it sounds like the two women talk about energy, life balance, and related things. Jane is quite plugged into metaphysics and Sandra is too, apparently. The conversation strays into an impromptu Spanish lesson for Jane and a bit for me, too. Sandra asks me what day I am flying home. I misinterpret her question and tell her “four days.” She smiles and asks me in Spanish again really slowly while Jane translates. “Ah, Martes noche,” (Tuesday night) I answer after Jane finishes her translation for me. Sandra asks if I will miss Casa Brian and I tell her yes. How could I not miss Casa Brian? Living here for two weeks was amazing. She says I can come back and calls herself my “Costa Rica mami.” Awesome. Sandra also tells me that she will miss me. I'll miss her too. I will miss everything about being here -- the beach, the warm water, the sapphire sky, the turquoise ocean, the sunsets, the atmosphere, and most of all, the people I met including Brian, Sandra, Jane, Leonie, Juan and Tyler. Sandra lightens the mood and tells me how Brian told her that I eat avocados so often Brian is surprised I haven’t turned green. I’m partly surprised, too. I had two yesterday and another two the day before.

I go swimming as the sky darkens. Soon, it will be too dark to swim. I look up at the sky and see the night’s first star. I make a wish as I hit the water. The water is warmer than I expected. It feels good. I dive in, dodging a large wave. I look back and cannot see the bench Jane and Sandra are sitting on anymore because the day’s light is nearly gone. I swim until I can barely see. The stars are out and the daylight is just a wan glow in the west. Brian comes out on the beach looking for Sandra and I walk with him to the bench the women are sitting on. The four of us walk back to Casa Brian where we talk the evening away. Another uniqely beautiful day in a uniquely wonderful place. Before Jane leaves, she promises to come by again tomorrow.

Leonie's Last Night - Tuesday 4-14-2009

Leonie told me a couple nights ago that she’s going to leave for Nicaragua on Wednesday. She’s been in Samara since January and has been at Casa Brian for the past two and a half months. She’s looking for a change. She says she was apprehensive about traveling alone again especially since she has settled into Playa Samara, but she has to move on and live for herself again. So, today is her last day here.

I hit the beach twice today. I love living temporarily in paradise. Oh, and Leonie bought me a chocolate ice cream bar before we had lunch together. I love vacation friends. Over lunch, she talks a bit about her upcoming trip, living at Casa Brian the last couple weeks, and Juan who had left the day before.

 

Leonie and your author

Later, Leonie and I have dinner at Las Palmitas where we talk at length about our lives back home. After a bit of silence, I complain that the hostel might be depressing without her around. She suggests I leave Playa Samara and give Montezuma a try. I had considered seeing Montezuma, Cahuita, or Manuel Antonio before leaving for home but I tell her that no place besides Playa Samara is really calling me right now. It's true, too. I have not been in Playa Samara long enough to get tired of it. I still feel at home here. When I read my guidebook, I knew I had to come to Playa Samara. Also, some part of knew that I would happily spend most of my vacation here, once I arrived. I can imagine that even this slice of paradise would get old after a while, but I have not yet reached that point. Manuel Antonio, with its rainforest and reportedly gorgeous beaches intrigued me yesterday, but the feeling passed. I tell Leonie I will probably stay in Playa Samara and visit those other places on my next trip to Costa Rica. And yes, there will be next trip to Costa Rica.

The evening passes quickly, the way evenings to when two old friends meet. We walk back to Casa Brian. Several of her friends in the neighborhood are coming over around 10:00PM and the plan is for all of us to head downtown to a few beach bars. Her friends are late and I'm aslep with my head down on the dining table by the time they arrive. I ask Leonie if she'd be offended if I just saw her off tomorrow. She tells me that's perfectly fine and to get some sleep. Leonie and her friends disappear into the warm, humid night.

Thoughts on Traveling Alone - Monday 4-13-2009

Juan left this morning. I talk a lot this evening with Leonie and Tyler over dinner and drinks at Sol Azteca, a Mexican restaurant up a hill from Casa Brian. Some of the conversation strays into traveling alone. Tyler has been in Playa Samara since January attending the local massage therapy school. He tells me it has been emotionally difficult to meet people in the hostels or in the bars, click with them, hang out with them for awhile, and then say goodbye to them when they move on. He says that doing something for himself is key to making it through the incessant goodbyes. Just hanging out somewhere isn’t enough, he tells me. Trying to find validation through socializing just leads to disappointment as a solo traveler. The key is to do something because you want to do it, not for the sake of meeting people – go to school, seek out new experiences, visit new places.

Leonie echoes Tyler’s sentiments. Leonie has been in Playa Samara since January as well (Tyler and her met on the bus from San Jose). She has been living at Casa Brian since early February and so has watched a parade of people come and go, some of whom she because very close to. Part of the reason she is moving on, she tell us, is because she had stopped experiencing life for herself and instead stuck around to hang out with people who just went on to leave. She needs a change. She needs to travel and live for herself again.

I disagree with both of them at first since meeting people was a primary reason I booked my Costa Rica trip. Later, I understand what Tyler and Leonie mean. I met the people I met on this trip while I was doing something I wanted to do for myself – traveling abroad for my own reasons. These private motivations helped cushion the sense of loss when my new friends moved on because I knew that my journey was an end unto itself and that I didn’t need to get attached to other travelers to have life validating experiences. In fact, this constant turnover of traveling companions has taught me to appreciate every moment I spend with them without regard for the future because I know that distance and circumstance will largely prevent them from being a part of my future. I have spent much of my life ignoring my present in favor of my future. That’s changing now, thanks to this trip.

Road Trip South of Playa Samara - Saturday 4-11-2009

Leonie and Juan leave around 9:00AM to pick up the car from Alamo car rental. The pair return an hour later. We load up on supplies: beer, water, chips, a nice looking pasta salad someone made, CDs from Brian, and a melon.

The paved road winds out of Samara past small houses, a few bars, a soccer field, a church. Further on, we pass a large resort under construction. A tall grey concrete wall and ostentatious gatehouse with partially built fountains announce the coming presence of wealthy foreigners. Several minutes later, we pass Playa Carrillo with its turquoise waters, gentle waves and palm lined beach. The road splits and we head northwest instead of south because out map leads us to believe we cannot directly go south. The paved road leads us up into the local hills. Much of this hill country is fenced off but undeveloped. Occassionally, we pass a sign reading “200 hectares si vente” (for sale) with a phone number on it.

 

 

Leonie, Juan and Golan

Someone puts in a Miles Davis CD, and his slow, relaxing jazz makes excellent driving music through these rolling hills. The trees are largely green but the grass is gold. It has not rained in four months. The air is hot. The road leads around a corner. I can see past the hills to the coast and ocean. We turn off the paved road and down a dirt road. Finally, Juan stops and asks a local how we can find the beach. Juan tell us that the local said the closest beach is Playa Samara, our starting point. We turn back, find the paved road, and repeat this exercise a few times with different dirt roads and with different bemused locals telling us we’re still headed back to Playa Samara. Finally, we backtrack for fifteen minutes from our last encounter and find a small village not far to the west of Camaronal. We traveled part of the way here earlier this morning but mistakenly turned back because we thought we were going the wrong way. Past the brown soccer field and brightly painted church we stop at La Maravilla, a small bar and restaurant cheerfully painted orange. The inside is painted yellow. The bar stools and the bar itself are made wood, lightly stained so as to seem only partly finished. The restaurant is spotless. Leonie, Juan, and Golan order coffee while take pictures. Leonie and I talk about how wonderfully genuine this country seems. For example, her coffee comes in a Garfield the Cat mug painted with hearts and flowers. It is the kind of tongue-in-cheek mug you might see in an office kitchen. Someone comes in and orders a drink with ice. The woman behind the bar pulls out a large block of ice from a freezer beneath the bar, works several chunks loose with an icepick, and then places the ice chunks in the man’s glass.

 

 

Beach near Corozalito, Costa Rica

The dirt road follows the coast. Our soundtrack switches to Bob Marley. We follow it through the village of Corozalito, where we pass a handful of brightly colored cabinas, a couple tiny hotels which seem empty, a soccer field, and a church. Several minutes of driving southeast, the dirt road branches to the right. We follow the road to a beach our map does not identify. The road ends at a small parking lot where a dozen cars are parked. To our left is a grassy area with a bar and plastic beach chairs. Ahead lies the beach. We park and sit beneath a palm tree. This beach is wide but short, hemmed in on two sides by cliffs. I follow the coastline to the south with my eye. The coastline gradually curves right, interrupted by four fingers of land, each one further south and further out into the water than the one before. Small beaches just like this one must lie between each finger. Juan tells me that the very last finger of land, so far away it is almost at the horizon, is the southern-most end of the Nicoya Peninsula. He points out a small white island just off of this finger and identifies it as the Isla Cabo Blanco. Several of us go into the water. This beach slopes into the water more steeply than Playa Samara. The water here is colder, too. We stay for maybe an hour, talking, laughing, watching the waves, and sitting in the shade of our palm tree.

 

Leonie and Juan at Playa Bejuco

Back in the car, we head south again. The dirt road leads us steeply up a cliff. Near the top of the cliff, Juan stops the car so we can all take pictures. Looking north we can see the beach we came from, protected in its cove. White waves come in one or two at a time an crash on the sand. Dark green trees cover the hills that compose the cove. The sun, high in the light blue sky, reflects off the deep blue Pacific. We continue south down the cliff. In the flatlands between the next cliff and the previous cliff, the road branches off to the right again. Juan follows the branch to the right. We drive past fenced off grassland and some cows. The trees on either side reach high, their branches meeting above the road. The road ends not at the beach, but at a small fishing village.

 

 

Playa Bejuco, Costa Rica

Juan parks the SUV. Small houses and a beached fishing boat are on our left. An impenetrable forest is to our right. The road ends at a waist-deep saltwater pond, connected to the ocean by a hidden waterway. Wavelets lap quietly onto the shore. A group of ten locals are sitting and talking to our left underneath a large tree growing out of the saltwater, its branches extending over both pond and shore. A local boy whoops and jumps from a branch into the water. His friends cheer. We can see the waves crashing on the beach half a mile beyond the pond. We think this is Playa Bejuco, but none of us are sure. Juan finds a log on which to sit. We sit enjoying the calm. We do not encounter a single tourist.

 

Playa San Miguel, Costa Rica

Again, the road south winds up a cliff and again we stop at the top for pictures. Looking south, I can see multiple sets of wave leave white trails as they make their way ashore at Playa San Miguel. This next beach is several miles long and wider than Playa Samara. We take some pictures of the scenery. Golan hams it up for the camera so we take pictures of him, too. Driving south, we descend the cliff. Rocky brush turns once more to ranchland and grassland, fenced in but mostly undeveloped. Juan follows a fork in the road right. The dirt road ends at a parking lot with many cars next to a restaurant. People are lounging on the restaurant’s patio, talking and listening to music from the restaurant’s bar. We leave our SUV, this time bringing the cooler because it is late afternoon and the four of us are hungry. We set the cooler down and pass around the chips, water and beer. Leonie opens the plastic container holding the pasta salad and we all share it. It is at least an hour before sunset and already the sunlight carries a golden tint. Salty mist drifts ashore from the waves as they curl over and crash. Several of us try the water. It is as cold as the first beach we stopped at today. The currents here are strong. Only I spend much time in the water; the others talk on shore. The sky changes from blue to orange to red.

 

 

Sunset at Playa San Miguel, Costa Rica

Juan sets his camera up on a nearby rock and films the setting sun for fifteen minutes. From the correct angle, the late afternoon sun sets not into the cliffs, but behind a far away rocky outcropping just off shore. I take pictures of the orange sun disappear inch by inch behind the black rock. The sky moves from orange to red to purple. We sit in silence together in the fading light. Leonie walks into the darkening surf for a moment of solitude. Costa Rica’s stars come out one by one. I make a wish on the first one I see. I wished on the evening star earlier in my trip. That wish came true, kind of.

 

 

The sky is a deep navy blue now. We had planned to leave earlier but our day together was so pleasant and the evening so calm that we stayed here longer than we first intended. Finally, Juan gestures toward the cooler and I help him load it into our SUV. Juan drives, with Leonie next to him and Golan and I in the back, just like when we left this morning. Our trip home in the dark takes just over two hours. Back in Playa Samara later that night, we go barhopping to celebrate Golan's last night. Juan drives us home in the early morning.

Lazy Vacation Days With the People I've Met - Monday 4-6-2009 to Friday 4-10-2009

Not much to say lately. A few people left the hostel and a couple more people arrived. I spent most of these days reading, sleeping in a hammock, and talking to the other people at Casa Brian. I’m so relaxed here. Part of it is Brian’s hospitality – he really does treat his guests like family. We had another dinner party one night, where Brian lit his grill and we all grilled our own food and then ate together. Another night, we had a huge bonfire on the beach beneath a nearly full moon. We threw palm fronds on the fire and the flames leapt ten feet into sky before dying down again, spent. I stayed out of the sun a few days, content to listen to the ocean from my hammock and feel the warm ocean breezes on my skin. Wednesday and Tuesday, I sat on the beach and talked more with some of the residents. I watched the sun set with folks from the hostel a couple evenings, too.

I talk to the other travelers here a lot. Meeting people and hearing their stories is my favorite part of traveling. Viktor and Charlotte are a twenty-something couple from southern Sweden who planned to stay three nights but got stuck in Samara longer than they anticipated because the Easter holiday made booking transportation elsewhere maddeningly difficult. They’re really nice, their English is excellent, and they’re both quite funny. I laughed when I watched them play Alphapet, a game identical to Scrabble but in Swedish. I’ll be sorry to see them leave on Friday. Juan and Golan are good company, as well. Golan is a professional dancer in New York. Juan is a former video editor from Spain. He’s hilarious. Both are leaving after the weekend, Golan back to New York and Juan to another city on his trip through Central America. Leonie and I don’t talk a whole lot, but you just need to spend ten minutes with her to see she’s a great gal. She studied Spanish at the local language school for a few months, and then has stayed a few months after school because she loves being here.

Friday night, I spent a couple hours talking to Jane. Jane lives a few doors down from Casa Brian. She spent about eight years working for investment banks in London, including RBS, Goldman, Merrill, and other names I immediately recognized. She was asked to be a manager at Barclay’s and said no, then left. She had enough of the high-demand/high-pay banking lifestyle, with its stresses and unhappy people, and used her savings to travel through Southeast Asia and Central America for three years. She picked up massage training in India and uses that to support herself here in Costa Rica. Sounds like she also worked on a commercial fishing boat in Alaska to pick up some money at one point, too. She wants to use Costa Rica as a base from which to explore South America. I loved finding someone with her career background living in paradise and loving it. The thing I’ll remember most about her, besides her Irish lilt, sincere smile, and surprisingly robust knowledge of shamanism and astrology? This sentence she told me after I told her my story over a dinner we made together at the hostel: “Henry, you create your own reality; you can do whatever you want to.” Thanks Jane.