February 14 – 16

Leaving our camp at Kite Beach on Lake Arenal, we followed the shoreline along the east side, passing clusters of farmhouses on rolling green hills that wouldn’t look out of place in Germany, Switzerland, or Austria. 

LA FORTUNA

Arriving in La Fortuna late in the afternoon, I couldn’t help but think this must be the tourism capital of Costa Rica. Large hotel resorts, tourist bars, and sprawling souvenir shops lined the road, selling everything from hammocks to countless intricately carved wooden penis bottle openers. Restaurants big enough to handle the constant flow of hungry visitors catered to those chasing volcano views and soaking in crowded hot springs, yuck!

No resort for us, our night was spent at a rustic jungle camp on the edge of town. Enclosed by dense trees, it felt damp with little natural light, The trees did have lots of different birds, Jaxon spotted a very pretty little Motmot amongst others. Just not our kind of town, so arriving at dusk, gone at dawn was all we needed here.

As we dropped closer to the coast our progress slowed to a crawl, roadwork with lanes merging. Back home, everyone taking turns in a polite zipper formation. Not here, drivers are aggressive, and the moment you leave an inch, someone will squeeze in.  Cheeky drivers sneaking in ahead of us, forcing Tim to hold his ground.  We played bumper cars with a family beside us—the driver hell-bent on cutting in. When Bruce’s bumper made contact, they had the nerve to give us a hard time. Nothing came of it, I guess that’s just how traffic rolls. Not making it as far as we’d hoped, we found a free camped on the edge of the beach beneath coconut palms next to a camp with a lovely French couple who were on the last month of their two year trip. Walking the beach in the morning I watched the local fishermen return from their all night fishing session.

crocodile bridge

Before driving over the famous Crocodile Bridge, we stopped to take a look.  Below us, 15 full-sized crocs lounged in the muddy shallows, looking suspiciously well-fed.  Impressive, dinosaur/dragon like green monsters.  Were they waiting for their next meal?

At the same time we had our first sighting of scarlet macaws as they passed overhead, their bright colours and raucous calls & long tails, the beauty and the beast.

I can’t help but wonder just how many people have ‘accidentally’ fallen in?  Is that why they gather here? Maybe it’s just a prime sunbathing spot… or maybe the cartels have found themselves a convenient, scaly cleanup crew?

UVITA

About an hour down the coast, we arrived in Uvita—a laid-back surf town with picture-perfect beaches. Surfers hit the waves from sunrise to sunset, and at every low tide, crowds flock to the famous Whale’s Tail sandbar, us included. It’s the kind of place where people forget about life for more than just a while.

The town itself is small but spread out, with dusty roads leading to organic cafés, roadside fruit stands, and yoga retreats tucked into the hills. It’s raw and lush, with macaws, toucans, and other birds playing in the trees above our camp. But we had to watch our step—underground nests were everywhere, and standing still for more than a minute meant being swarmed by tiny, vicious ants.

Jaxon paddled out for a surf while Charley played in the waves, and with the sun too intense, Tim and I hid under the beach umbrella. At low tide, we walked out to the Whale’s Tail sandbar, then wandered back through the jungle. Along the way, Jax met a man gathering coconuts to sell—without hesitation, he cracked one open and handed it to him.

We spent two nights here and met a friendly Kiwi couple from Christchurch, NZ. They had rented one of the many small, Jeep-style vehicles equipped with a rooftop tent and all the camping gear needed to explore. Meanwhile, scarlet macaws and toucans became a common sight around our camp—I couldn’t get enough of it.

OSA PENINSULAR

17th – 18th. Our adventure to the Osa Peninsula felt like stepping into the wild—remote countryside, thick jungle, and roads we love to drive.   Crossing a river at Sierpe by barge, then tackled 56km of steep dirt roads to Drake Bay, winding through lush farmland, towering trees, and thick jungle. Slow going, with a few knee-deep river crossings, bracingly steep muddy climbs requiring 4wd, this was without a doubt, the most beautiful drive yet.

We arrived just after sunset at Playa Rincón, on the edge of Corcovado National Park, and set up camp on the grass with the waves lapping gently just feet away. Idyllic until the bugs descended. Too hot to keep the camper windows closed, the screen mesh too big to keep the bloodsuckers out. We spent the night hiding under a sheet under relentless attack.

corcovado NATIONAL Park

Coated in bug spray, we set out for a morning hike, but the jungle had us drenched in no time. An hour in, we were dripping—clothes soaked through, sweat pouring off us.

It’s another world here. Vines twist like thick ropes around trees, wrapping themselves around others already growing over something else. Everything fights to climb higher, tangle tighter, and claim its share of sunlight and water. Tiny flowers dot the creeping vines along the path, while armies of ants continuously reshape the forest floor with their underground megacities.

Nestled in one cove, we stumbled across a long-abandoned resort, slowly being swallowed by the jungle. Small bays lined with lazily leaning palm trees stretched along golden sand, not a soul in sight. Idyllic. We followed the trail until it eventually led us back to the truck. We didn’t spot any monkeys, birds, or pumas… or maybe that was because a puma was watching us.

By 10 a.m., we had a decision to make—cover ourselves in DEET and stick it out for another day and night, or press on. Jax was eager to get to Panama, so we kept rolling. One last look, then back the way we came—rivers, mud, and curious stares from locals likely wondering where a rig like ours had come from.

Heading east, another 30 km of dirt roads took us past quiet farm communities with tidy homes before we finally hit pavement. That night, we camped behind a hotel gate, paying 7,000 colones ($14 USD) for a spot with a bathroom. Parked right next to the busy main road, it wasn’t exactly a peaceful night’s sleep.

Just 15 minutes from the Panama border, our next destination…