After days and days of volcanoes and rain forests, I decided to end my trip with a stay in Playas del Coco – aka Coco Beach, on the northern coast of Costa Rica. I had no tan, miles of blisters and shin splints, and a hankering to see what the Pacific had to show for itself at 70 feet under the surface. I also had no monkeys to speak of, so I gave up the idea as the victim of a tight itinerary at the wrong times in the wrong places. Next time, I figured. As a consolation, the house I found ended up being incredible – every creature comfort plus a private pool for a little more than $60 a night. Holy crap. I mean HOLY CRAP.
I made my first Pacific dive, because at this point I’ll dive just about anywhere they’ll let me. Coldish and murky, it was a huge departure from the brilliant reefs and endless visibility of the Caribbean, but I didn’t care — until I swam through a bloom of jellyfish. I saw a couple of little box jellyfish in front of me, but I thought I dodged them. Turns out not so much, because by the time I got back in the boat, my whole face was on fire. I ended up having to rub a big slice of pineapple that I was supposed to be eating on my face – for the acid, people said. The dive master offered to have someone urinate on me instead – which is the treatment of choice for jelly stings – but I took a pass. It wasn’t my best day diving to be sure with stinging red marks and welts across my chin, cheeks, and mouth, but it was an awfully good excuse for a beer afterward.
My house also came with a little stray cat who had adopted the place, of course, and who marched right in the door the minute I unlocked it. She was sweet – good company and nice enough to make me wonder how to bring an animal home to the United States. She was grateful for food – a sad reality for stray animals, and she ate so much in the first 12 hours that I thought she might burst. I made my first visit to a Costa Rican vet to get her medicine – she was looking rough from battling who knows what and obviously had worms. Holding down a mostly stray cat for worming medicine isn’t the easiest thing I’ve ever done, but it’s probably a good investment of $2.80 for a creature willing to kill spiders, beetles, and anything else that ventured into the yard of the house.
A laid back beach town is the perfect place to be bone tired at the end of a trip, and I loved it here. And despite my hardships, I was certain that a bad day diving was still better than a good day working – well kind of – and I would have gone back for more if I had the time.
Pura Vida. It’s not a saying, it’s a way of being. It means pure life, and I’m sure trying.
