Pura Vida!

Norm and I returned on June 28th from a last minute weeklong trip to Costa Rica. A day and a half of travel to get to Playa Hermosa (Los Angeles to Miami, Miami to San Jose, Costa Rica, then spend the night in San Jose and took a small Cessna to Tambor the next morning), plus a marathon 20-plus hour day of return travel home, all for 3.5 days there. Admittedly ambitious, especially for me, since I'm not too keen on extended travel, but we still managed to have a great time.

I want to forewarn readers of this blog that this post is likely to be really long with tons of pics. The scenery was just too beautiful and even with my fairly cheapo camera, I still managed to get some decent shots to share.

We stayed at Shaka Surf Camp with one of Norm's friends, Jeffrey, who was bunking there for the week with his girlfriend Moon.



The four of us had the camp to ourselves until the last two nights, when another of Jeffrey's buddies from Miami, Judson, joined us. It took well over an hour via rural taxi over unpaved roads to get to the surf camp.

This is pretty much what the roads looked like (during a good stretch):


We arrived in the pouring rain around 11 a.m. on Tuesday morning. It's the rainy season there, so we had a good bit of rain, but it was actually refreshing and the temperature was still in the 80s during the day and somewhat muggy, but going down to a cooler low 70s in the evenings.

Here is the very obvious sign we had arrived. Of course it didn't occur to us that it wouldn't be obvious to our non-English speaking taxi driver, so we ended up driving a couple of miles farther before we realized that there could not possibly be another Shaka surf camp . . . .



Directly inside the gate is the covered pavilion where the kitchen and office are located:



A view of the main pavilion from our cabina. This is where all of our time at the camp was spent when we weren't enjoying fun activities offsite.


The hammocks beckoned to us constantly:



The camp is co-owned by Chris and Krista Moe (prounounced Moy), who live next door with their adorable kids Atua (age 7) and Keeli (age 4). Chris is the resident surf instructor and the whole family was present for dinner every evening. Lauren would have had a blast with both kids.

Chris and Atua (with Keeli peeking out):


Atua and Keeli:


Krista and Keeli:


Atua was much more a friend of our camera than Keeli, who hid her face at every opportunity (reminds me of another toddler we know . . . ):



The onsite manager/hostess at the camp was Summer, originally a Southern California girl who's been living in Costa Rica for a couple of years and has taken up surfing in the past year. She was very, very, fun.


Meals at the camp were simply cooked, fresh and healthy. Lots of chicken, fish, beans and rice. Plus mornings greeted us with fresh Costa Rican coffee and amazingly fresh pineapple, watermelon and papaya. Yaritza and Carlos are a couple who run the kitchen and take care of the cabinas:


Our few days at Shaka fell into a comfortable routine. First, we were initially awakened in our sparse but very clean cabina between 5 and 6 a.m. by either construction next door (seriously, hammers and saws were in full force before 6 a.m.!) or the creepy cries of the howler monkeys. Amazingly for me, I was able to fall back asleep until close to 8 a.m., when we would stagger out for coffee and fruit. Three of the four mornings at the camp, I maintained my resolve and ran on the beach for 45 minutes to an hour. It was low tide, and the setting was truly spectacular. There were very few signs of people as I was running and I can actually say I enjoyed myself, even breaking form to occasionally dance at the waters' edge to the workout tunes on my ipod (you know that saying, "dance like nobody's watching?" That should give you the visual).

The sky in Costa Rica was something that was ever changing and always breathtaking, whether it was blue or littered with gathering storm clouds. Here's a shot of the beach we walked to from Shaka (a 2 minute walk) and the route I ran. The square shaped rock standing on its own at the far end was my marker to turn around during my run:


Some of my run traversed over rocky areas on the beach, but it made it that much more interesting, with all of the cool shells and sea creatures I came across, including this pack of hermit crabs (amazing how they camoflauged into the background once they stop moving and pull their little bodies within the shells:


While I was busy getting an endorphin rush, Norm would head out for an a.m. surf session. Then we would meet up back at the camp for either a more substantial breakfast or lunch. Important note: the one morning I didn't run, I had an in-room massage instead. Nothing like waking up, having some coffee, and then going right back into a comatose state while those lingering knots were worked out.

Early afternoons were filled with various activities (or inactivity). On a day when the rain didn't let up, we hung out in the hammocks, reading our novels and napping. Another afternoon we went into "town" and shared a pizza and Coke at a little restaurant on the beach.

At the open-air restaurant, we viewed some wildlife just a few feet from our table:


Late afternoons were devoted to more surfing (for Norm and gang) or ocean swimming for me. The waves and current were particularly strong during the week we were there, so my idea of leisurely daily swims for exercise weren't exactly executed as planned, but I certainly got quite a workout swimming out past the breakers (the swells must have been at least 7 feet) and bodysurfing in. I didn't even try to get on a surfboard due to the roughness of the surf. Regardless, the water was blissfully warm (felt at least 80 degrees F to me) and it was really great to alternate between totally relazing and being incredibly active.

I rarely get to see Norm surf, so one of the afternoons, at sunset, I brought the camera, not thinking I would be able to catch much of anything, given the limited capabilities of our camera and how far out the surf was breaking. But I did get one great shot (zoomed as far as I could with my lens, hence the slight blurriness):


A few other pics, where you can barely make out Norm on the waves, but still can witness the incredible beauty of the surroundings, including the sunset sky:







Evenings were spent hanging out at Shaka with the group, either playing adult board games (highly recommend Loaded Questions!) or hitting up the local pub (not as much our scene given that we don't really drink much, although still fun to hang out).

By far, my favorite and most thrilling day in Costa Rica was our final full day, when a few of us went riding on the beach and up in the hills. The ride was set up by Paco/Frank, a local and good friend of the Shaka owners who made arrangments for us to spend several hours with Jose, who owns several horses in the hills of Playa Hermosa. Frank is just a wonderful guy, and lives at the top of a hill in a completely open-air house (seriously, no closed walls!) with the most incredible views any of us had ever seen. The horses were brought to Paco's house, which is where we began our 3 hour ride:

Frank's casa extraordinaire:

Jose hanging outside the house:


The view from Frank's kitchen:


The steeds waiting patiently for us:




I was on a very well behaved and responsive mare named Blanquita (little white horse):


Judson had never ridden before, but conducted himself like a pro (excluding, perhaps, the cigar hanging from his mouth):


The five of us (Jose, me, Jeffrey, Moon and Judson) first headed down to the beach and spent about 90 minutes walking, trotting and cantering on the hard packed sand.

Here is the stretch of beach at the outset of our journey:


After about 30 minutes, we decided to give the horses a rest, and tied them up to enjoy the beach.

Me with Jose during our respite:


One of the guys cooling off before we continued the ride:


Halfway into our ride we arrived at a small body of water known to inhabit crocodiles (note I didn't take my horse anywhere near the water!):


We leisurely headed back down the beach, simply enjoying the view:




Then Jose took us back up into the hills to show us where he lived:


With his wife (sorry, her name escapes me):


And a whole host of animals:




The view from Jose's property was also breathtaking:




We leisurely rode back down the hill to an open-air restaurant across the street from the beach, and indulged in fresh grilled fish with rice and beans before ending our afternoon back at Frank's place.

The four amigos at the end of the ride, exhausted but exhilirated:


I have not been on a horse in several years and the I was truly in heaven the entire time (my inner thighs, however, took quite a few days to forgive me). It's hard to describe if you're not a horse person, but the thrill and pure serenity of feeling a horse's gait confidently underneath you, and being so connected to another creature and yourself at the same time . . . I could go on and on, but then some will think I'm nuttier than they already do. THAT feeling, combined with the spectacular setting and camaraderie of my fellow riders, made it a truly memorable afternoon for me. So much so that I now plan to seriously look into my options at home for riding again.

I can't finish this post without mentioning the bizarre crabs that inhabit every square inch of Playa Hermosa. They are bright purple and fire orange in color and scamper everywhere, including under your feet at the dining table (blech!). They didn't seem aggressive and appeared much more afraid of us then we were of them, but something about their eyes gave Moon and I the heeby jeebies (yes, I just used that phrase). Judge for yourself:


On our last evening there, the group gathered for one last parting shot:



Looking forward to our next journey to this slice of paradise.