9th July 2026  Back on track

The month at BongO and Planet B was a good break in travelling, but the night before I had to leave, I was overcome by apprehension,  fear, uncertainty and scepticism. Recapturing the rhythm of travelling was going to be a huge effort, I thought, but after a few days on the road I was back on track.  Although there was a difference in the pace – I was more relaxed, spending more time in one place, lazing in hammocks, reading and just enjoying whatever came along.  During the month at BongO I read about 5 English books from the collection of discarded travellers’ books, and then even one in Dutch, a translated novel by Harlan Coben called Zes Jaar.  Travellers thrive on suspense, it seems – those are the only type of books that were available. 

Before leaving Quepos, I spent a day in Manuel Antonio, exploring shops and restaurants, and buying sloth T-shirts for my two youngest grandkids.  I had lunch at El Avion, an interesting restaurant that claims to have one of the three original C-123 cargo planes that were used in 1986 in the Iran-Contra affair, as well as in the movie that was made about it in 2017, American Made.  The affair involved an American drug smuggler, Barry Seal, who had been a CIA agent as well as smuggling cocaine for Pablo Escobar, and he was played by Tom Cruise.  Whether the claim is true, remains a mystery, but the food, the view and the service was excellent.

A final excursion in Quepos after my last morning shift, was a very long and strenuous walk to a beach, Playa Tulemar, that was not accessible by bus.  To get there, I walked down from BongO, past two beaches that were not swimmable, up a very steep hill and down again, and had the best swim of my entire stay.  No currents, nice waves and just a few people.  Maps.Me indicated a road going into Manuel Antonio from the beach, but after a 50m of going uphill, I was stopped by a friendly guy on a motorbike, telling me it was privately owned and I was not allowed to use it.  He was very apologetic, explaining that there were cameras, and he didn’t like his job. “How do I get to Manuel Antonio?” I asked,  “I have to get the bus there.”  “You walk to the next beach, it is a very beautiful walk,” he assured me.  I lost the trail somewhere and bundu-bashed up an embankment, grabbing at roots and saplings, only to discover a beautiful stairway path at the top.  The sun was beginning to set, and walking through the darkening forest was a bit scary, but also beautiful.  I walked past a hanging bridge, a spa, luxury hotel and restaurant and casually walked past the boom that was at the top, just before the main road.  So much for the rich Americans who have claimed that part of the coast as their own. 

I have fond memories of Quepos,  Manuel Antonio, Planet B, BongO, the manager, his family and people I worked with. A few more pics:

My next destination was Uvita, a coastal town south-east from Quepos, much less commercialised and also with a long beach and an exceptional ‘whale tail’ that is only exposed at low tide. 

On arrival at Uvita, I walked about 2km to the entrance to the beach, and then back towards town along the beach.  At one point I saw an ‘Exit’ sign, and followed the trail through some forest, only to arrive at a huge, high, locked gate, the actual entrance to the national park which closes at 5pm.  There was a man on a bicycle on the other side of the gate, and when he saw me stuck on the wrong side, he told me to go behind some trees to the right, where he helped me to climb over a lower fence.  It was getting dark, so I was only too happy, as retracing my steps would’ve been impossible.

I rented a bike the next day, and after a morning on the beach, had lunch at a soda (local restaurant, cheaper than the regular ones) and went for a ride around town.  I passed a whole long row of cars that were being held up because of a protest further along the main road.  Evidently the issue was bad management of the Corcovado National park by the booking agencies, and tourist numbers being limited.  Later I cycled to a river in a different part of town. and saw that frustrated drivers were crossing the river in their 4×4’s in an attempt to avoid the congestion higher up on the main road.  Quite funny to see some motorbikes crossing, almost toppling over on the big rocks in the river.  Cycling is so much different from walking, and I was humming along as cycled, enjoying the countryside on the edge of town, breathing in the smell of cows and horses.  I had a good close-up view of two toucans eating a papaya as an added bonus.  I was a bit late in returning the bicycle and the shop was closed,  but when I phoned the owner, she was unfazed:  “Just lock it to our boat behind the shop and put the key behind the wheel of the trailer,” she instructed.  Which I did, but when I passed the boat early next morning, the bike was no longer there, which had me a bit worried, but I decided it was none of my concern. 

I was staying in a ‘glamping hostel’, having my own little bungalow with communal kitchen, showers and toilets.  There was a woman that had been staying there for two months, receiving hormone treatment to repair the damage to the cartilage in her hips.  She walked with crutches, and there was quite an obnoxious smell when one came close to her – either the food she was carrying in dirty plastic bags, or her person, not sure which.   She consistently engaged in a monologue about the medical intricacies of the whole situation, which had me regularly escaping to my bungalow with some or other lame excuse.  I was glad to leave after 3 days. 

Before leaving I had to see the ‘whale tail’, so I went to the entrance of the park at 7am, had a lovely long walk along the beach, the only person around at that hour, and was ready to walk to the tail of the whale at 9am, which was low tide.  It was a bit disappointing, as the water never completely subsided and one had to wade through the last part – the photo on the website looked more spectacular. 

Some of the volunteers at Planet B had told me about a hostel, Cascada Verde Eco Hostal, that was within a 5 minute walk from the Uvita waterfall, and to escape the garrulous woman, I moved camp to it the next day.  I had booked 2 nights, but it was such a beautiful setting that I ended up staying for 4 nights.  I met some great people, had long and interesting conversations, and joined one of them, Tana, for the 4th of July celebrations in a nearby town, Dominical.  Tana is from the USA, was a volunteer at the hostel, and had rented a car, so drove us to Dominical, where she diligently did her four hour work shift at the cake stall.  She is an art teacher, and was teaching the owner’s daughter art as part of her duties.  I was often working at a puzzle at the table next to where they were busy with their artwork, and it felt so homely and fun, listening to their chatting and viewing their progress. 

There was also a strange male guest at the hostel, who started sharpening all the kitchen knives the evening after he arrived.  Tana and I were building puzzle, and we gave each other a quizzical look, wondering what was going on.  He was sharpening with a vengeance, using a loose grindstone, bent almost double.  The morning before I left, Tana told me that he had told the owner that he had spent time in jail for murdering a woman.  Soon after she told me, he asked if he could help us build the puzzle, and he sat down next to me.  He kept on moving closer, and when his leg shoved against mine, I shot up with the excuse “I have to go and pack, I’m leaving soon”. 

There were a few trails in the area, all going uphill of course, and on one I carried on going uphill until I finally found a viewpoint of the whale tail.  I think I walked 10km that day, but I was adamant.  The waterfall was fun, I went down the natural slide that it made, but it did not seem fit for an old lady to do the jumps from higher up that the boys were doing, so I gladly refrained. After a while a guided tour group arrived, with extra ropes being put up, demonstrations given of how to go down the waterfall slide, and life jackets handed out.  I was happy to leave them to it, and went and had a mora (berry) smoothie at the restaurant at the top, feeling very superior. 

The Nauyaca falls that I wanted to see were a 30min bus ride from Dominical, the town where the Independence Day celebrations were, so that was my final destination on the coast before moving inland.  I booked a hostel close to the beach, but swimming was not safe at all, so I just walked.  I was told it was a surfer’s paradise, definitely not a swimming beach, and there was enough evidence of that.  It is a long beach lined with palm and other trees that have no undergrowth, as it is used by so many people for camping, picnicking, parking and walking.  I was on my way to find a restaurant when I saw through the trees that the sun was about to set.  I carried on walking to the edge of the trees which is next to a river, and out onto the sand to have a good view.  I was carried away, taking many pictures, and at some stage I turned around to look at the beach and was surprised to see that many people were sitting and standing behind me, watching as well.

The Nauyaca waterfalls (there are two, one above the other) were well worth the 5km walk from where the bus dropped me.  A very steep descent on a tar road of 1,5km to the parking lot, then a gradual incline for a kilometre or more, and another quite steep climb to the top, after which one goes down many steps to get to the bottom again – crazy, but one does it.  What upset me was that I caught the bus at 6am, waited for 30min for the ticket office to open, and thought I would be the first one at the falls, but a safari 4×4 vehicle full of people drove past me at 08:15, ten minutes before I got to the falls.  I had to wait for all the posing for photographs to be over with before I could get a decent picture.  I put my cell phone at risk by wading through the stream on slippery rocks to get both falls in the picture, but managed to keep my balance and kept it safe.  On the way back I had walked 500m of the steep uphill from the parking lot and was wondering how I was going to manage the next kilometre of very steep, when one of the 4×4 vehicles came past, stopped and offered me a lift.  That young man saved my life, and will most definitely be blessed somewhere in the future.  I then had time before the bus back to town arrived, and went for my usual berry smoothie at a lovely little restaurant just down the road from the bus stop, where I saw the last 20 minutes of the FIFA game between Argentina and Egypt, with 3 goals being scored – what an accomplishment!