(Study Abroad) Travel

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I traveled every weekend during my month studying abroad. The first two weekends I traveled with my study abroad group, and the second two weekends I just traveled with one other lady. Each Wednesday I would warn my teacher that I wasn’t going to be in class on Friday. She would give me the homework I would be missing, which I completed during the bus rides.

To share all of the details of my travels would be an enormous task, but I will give a broad overview.

The first weekend, my study abroad group and I rented a van from USAC to take us to Manuel Antonio. Manuel Antonio is a small town on the Pacific coast, but it is mostly known for its national park. The park is a tourist haven and costs $10 to enter, but the scenery is worth the price. My friends and I booked a sleeping dorm at the Backpacker’s Hostel. Hostels are the gods’ gift to college-aged humans. Located 5 minutes walk from the ocean and 30 seconds walk from the national park, this hostel only cost $12 a night. A swimming pool dominated the lawn and was surrounded by beach chairs. Friendly, like-minded travelers from all around the world would sit around this pool as they drank beer and socialized. A hammock was strung off to the side next to a communal kitchen where anyone could cook food from the grocery store, avoiding high restraunt prices. It was great. The first day we all hung around the pool and got to know some travelers before visiting the beach. At the beach we body-surfed and drank some beers as we watched an incredible sunset. We spent the rest of the night at a beachside bar.

The next morning I woke up early in the hopes that I could explore the park before the crowds arrived and maybe see some animals. I met a friendly Belgium girl who had been living in Guatemala for 9 months, and together we hiked all of the trails and enjoyed the beaches. I saw an iguana, some Capuchin monkeys, a deer, crabs, raccoon-type-things, sloths, and small turtles. Words don’t do this place justice, so I’ll post pictures.

The next weekend I wanted to spend in Heredia with my host brother and his friends, but my study abroad group was going on a trip that we had paid for with our tuition, so I decided to join them. The first day we were taken to Volcan Poas, a volcano in one of Costa Rica’s oldest and most popular national parks. This volcano was, in my opinion, much more cool to see than Volcan Arenal, Costa Rica’s other famous volcano which I saw during later travels. While everyone was taking pictures of Poas, I wandered off and began hiking a two mile trail through cloud forest. The trail was so green and silent that the only sound was water dripping from the leaves and an occasional bird chirp. Clouds blew across the path in front of me, and it was so surreal that the hair on the back of my neck rose.

The trail was short but I wanted to see more cloud forest, so I began making plans to visit Monteverde the next weekend. Visiting Monteverde would also allow me to get away from my study abroad group, which was important to me. They are all great people and good friends, but it is hard to practice Spanish and experience culture when traveling in a group of 10+ Americans. I wanted to get out on my own and travel independently, as did another lady, so together we purchased tickets to Monteverde for $5 and set out.

Monteverde is an old Quaker settlement up in the north central mountains of Costa Rica. The Quakers moved here when Costa Rica abolished their military because the peaceful society aligned well with Quakers’ pacifist ideologies. It is a small, quiet town that clouds frequently swallow, and it is set in one of the best landscapes I have ever seen. Green mountains covered in cloud forest rise all around, and lush valleys stretch below. My traveling companion arrived in town with no plan whatsoever, which is a very fun way to get a feel for a new place. We wandered around town for over an hour, chatting with people and trying to find an affordable place to stay. Rounding a corner, we came across the Pension, a small hostel with a friendly social environment that cost $10 per night, breakfast included. After locking our bags in our room we left for a hike. The hike was about 6 kilometers, at least two of which were straight up a muddy path, and it took us to a radio tower on top of a mountain. The view was great, and we chatted with a radio worker as we watched clouds swirl and blow through the valley below us. The sun was setting by the time we got back to town, and the buildings were continuously obscured by brilliant colors as clouds blew through the streets and reflected the sun’s last rays.

The next day we woke early to do yoga and enjoy breakfast and coffee before a shuttle arrived to take us to the national park. I met a pretty British journalist during breakfast who decided to accompany us on our hike. Admission was pretty steep ($20), but I finagled my way into receiving an $11 dollar discount for being a student. The hike was great. It was like the Volcan Poas hike multiplied by 100. Huge green trees covered in moss echoed the King-Kong bellows of howler monkeys. Idyllic waterfalls poured from the undergrowth. Clouds swirled everywhere. A bridge took us over the canopy and we were able to look down hundreds of feet to see the treetops below.

The next day I woke early again and just began walking. For about four hours I just walked up and down mountain roads, greeting farmers as they went about their work and breathing the cool mountain air. It was great. Departure time came far too soon, and I headed back to Heredia.

I learned a valuable lesson the next weekend when I traveled to Puerto Viejo: look past the surface of the news. The U.S. had issued a travel warning for the Puerto Viejo area because 4 Americans had recently been kidnapped and a Tico had been shot. What people generally did not know, however, was that the crimes were not random. The Americans had been volunteering for some sort of turtle conservation program, and they were hiding turtle eggs after the turtles laid the eggs on shore. This activity obviously irritated locals who were involved in turtle egg smuggling because turtle eggs sell for about $8 per. The volunteers did not heed threats or warnings, so the locals took matters into their own hands and killed the Tico leader and kidnapped the Americans. The Americans were soon released unharmed.

I am glad that I did not heed the U.S. travel warning or my friends’ protests, because Puerto Viejo ended up being one of my favorite places. I felt as safe in Puerto Viejo as I felt anywhere else, which is what happens when you mind your own affairs and don’t get involved in local conflict.

Puerto Viejo possesses a pleasant mix of Jamaican Rastafarian culture and Costa Rican culture. The population is mostly black, of Caribbean decent, and most of them speak a mixture of Spanish and English. The town is poor, but the people are friendly. I arrived in this town after a 5 hour bus ride without any idea of where I would stay, but it took me less than 5 minutes to find another traveler who directed me to a great hostel. The hostel was located a short walking distance from the beach, cost me $13 per night, and had clean water (this is one of the only places in Costa Rica where faucet water is “unsafe”).

After locking up my bag, I began walking the beach. I did not take anything of value with me so that no one would have any reason to bother me. I followed the beach a long ways, with the water on my left and the jungle crowding me on my right. I passed a large hostel, Rockin’ J’s, that you will certainly hear of if you travel to Puerto Viejo. Situated directly on the beach, it is a notorious party hostel. However, it lies 10 minutes out of town, which makes enjoying the town’s nightlife difficult because the walk is a little sketchy in the dark.

The beach ended and I followed a path into the jungle. This path eventually led me to a long, wide, white sand beach. Huge waves pounded rocky outcrops in the ocean. I swam in the waves, watched surfers, and chilled on the beach for a few hours before heading back to town. In town I perused the streets for a while, talking to locals and sampling street food. Eventually I made my way back to the hostel where I swung in a hammock as I finished a book before playing chess and sipping wine with travelers.

I’m getting hung up on details so I’ll try to be more succinct. The next morning I enjoyed an early morning practicing yoga on the beach before renting a bicycle for $4 and biking 15 kilometers to a jungle national park. The jungle followed the coast, and I found myself on many pristine isolated beaches with nothing but the crashing waves in front of me and the vibrant jungle alive behind me. Rumor has it that hiking a few hours into the jungle will bring you to a hippy commune living self-sufficiently with nature, but I was trekking barefoot so I had to resist my curiosity and limit my hike to a few miles.

Returning to my bicycle, I tipped a Tico $1 for watching my bike and began my journey back to town. In Costa Rica, the norm is to tip people for watching your car or bike, regardless of whether the vehicle needs watched. No one tips at restaurants, in taxis, or in bars because the tip is included in the price, so I guess it all evens out.



I spent the evening at a bar with a Dutch guy and a few Yale students whom I met at my hostel. The next day I caught an early bus and began my last week in Heredia.

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Photos

Volcan Poas
This is as close as you're allowed to get.

Monteverde National Park
Those are my two friends in front of me. Kelly, my fellow student on the left, and the British journalist on the right.

Puerto Viejo Jungle View
This jungle is about 15 kilometers from town.