“You don’t need that here.” The taxi driver pointed to my mask as we piled into his beat up 4×4 SUV. The faded seats smelled of dust and old fabric. “The air is our mask.” He laughed, slid into the driver’s seat.
Stacy and I had just landed in a tiny airport in one of the most remote parts of Costa Rica. It was unbearably hot and humid, and I was sweating–again. In the distance, the twelve seater plane that had brought us here was rumbling back down the runway. Like it or not, we were stuck here.
I rolled down the window of the SUV as it raced down the dirt road, the aging Costa Rican at the wheel. Tropical foliage of all varieties blanketed the sides of the road, some with leaves the size of a car door. The air outside smelled of a recent rain.
The driver whipped the SUV around a corner and slowed. In front of us was a river, perhaps thirty or more feet across and several feet deep. Without hesitating, the SUV rolled over the embankment and plunged into the river. I gasped, waiting for the water to rush in the doors and soak our feet. When it didn’t I exhaled and tried to appear unshaken. Undaunted, the SUV forged the river like a pro and crawled up the far embankment.
A few minutes later, we came upon the tiny village of Bahia Drake, a remnant of the exploration efforts by Sir Francis Drake during his voyages of the Pacific in the sixteenth century. Simple cement homes and stores line the road, each looking rather out of place in this tropical paradise. Several Costa Rican villagers walk the street, wearing beach apparel and sporting healthy tans. A few tourists lounge about the small restaurants sipping fresh juices while they wait for their food.
The taxi dropped us off at the end of town, near the beach. I paid our driver and we headed to where the small motorboat awaited us in the bay. Slipping off our shoes, we waded in the dirty water with our suitcases and climbed aboard. Soon, the boat was skipping the waves toward another part of the peninsula, where our hotel, and the great Osa Rainforest awaited us…
Our trip to Costa Rica was fantastic. It is a country filled with great people, excellent food, and plenty of adventure. We were blessed to have spent almost two weeks there to celebrate our tenth anniversary, but we are also thankful to be home. Traveling isn’t what it used to be (thanks Covid), and sometimes being a foreigner in a place you’ve never been can be stressful. Fortunately, there was plenty of downtime where I (Troy) was able to get a lot of writing done and Stacy was able to knit a pair of socks and even do some watercolor painting.
One of my favorite parts of the trip was visiting a coffee plantation near a volcano. If you know me, I love my coffee. To be able to see the entire process from start to finish was really amazing. Our guide showed us some really interesting things about creating the perfect cup of coffee, and of course by the end of the tour we all became quite the experts. Don’t expect me to tell you that Costa Rican coffee is best, however. It was good, but I am picky to say the least!
