El Kilo

Late Friday evening I packed up my bags in a haze, the morning plans had come together all so fast. Instead of going on the planned trip to Nicaragua with the school, a few friends and I decided to go on a little adventure of our own to one of the most secluded places in Costa Rica, The Osa Peninsula…and adventure is what we got.

The bus was set to leave for 5 am on Saturday morning, my friend Jeff from Tropical Ecology class and a Tica named Adriana had gone to buy our tickets on Friday afternoon, but since neither Jeff nor I have a cell phone, I didn’t get his facebook message with the departure time until 2 am, after I had come back from clubbing at Azotea Bar in San Jose. At 4:30 am, Jeff came on foot to pick me up at my house and from there we walked to our university to meet Adriana and catch a cab to the bus stop. By 4:45 we were starting to get worried, no Adriana, no cab. Just as we were about to walk to a busier street to try our luck, a cab came whipping around the corner and Adri yelled “vamos!”.

We were so squeezed on time, the taxi dropped us off and we hustled down a busy street that was just coming to life with a morning farmers market. We made it by the nick of a hair, the other two boys in our group, brothers Matt and John, were already seated.


Our plan was to take a 6 hour bus ride down south to a town named Palmar Norte, a 30 min. taxi ride to a town called Sierpe and then hop on a boat for another hour to get us to our destination, Drake Bay. It was so early and I was so exhausted but I couldn’t sleep a wink, the scenery was just too beautiful to miss.

We made it to Palmar Norte at around 11 am and got a taxi just as planned. We were seriously playing with fire when we showed up to the boat dock in Sierpe, there was only one boat…and it was full. The boat driver had us break a sweat before he gave in to Adri’s persuasive argument “Muchacho, we’re skinny, very skinny. We promise not to take up much room!!” Thank goodness that worked because we would have been seriously stuck.


The boat ride though the majestic Mangrove Forest was epic, absolute stunning. I was so ill equipped, wearing a cotton t-shirt, shorts and rainbow sandals as torrential downpour plastered our faces at high speeds. At one point the river closed off and we had to go through a narrow dimly lit pass in the Mangroves. My imagination ran wild with the slightest ripple slinking over the murky surface – the land of the crocodiles and monster fish. At the river mouth, the tightly packed grove broke into the turbulent high seas. Waves hurdled towards us as the captain maneuvered through the mouth of two colossal rocks, catching air off the swell. Poseidon was feeling kind, seeing as we survived.



Drake Bay was beautiful; a car was waiting for us on the beach to take us to our place a little way up the mountain. We had two rooms at Monolo Cabins next door to one another, with our own private patio and hammocks.

The five of us decided to explore a bit. We wondered down kilometers of virgin beach, over tide pools, shoddy wood slated bridges, webs of tangled tree roots and clouds that touched the ground. The pressing nightfall cut our exploration short. We had an early dinner and headed back to our rooms at around 6 pm. I was absolutely exhausted and put my feet up in the hammock. The serenity of the pitter-pattering rain on the metal roof lulled me to sleep, we had a big day ahead of us.



On Sunday morning, our group woke up early and met up with our guide for a pancake breakfast on the patio in front of our cabin. A couple from Spain joined us as well. Our guide’s name was Javier and he was so knowledgeable about the different species in the area. He led us by boat to an overgrown trailhead leading into the dense tropical thicket of San Pedrillo, Corcovado National Park. Originally, we wanted to go to Sirena, a 28 km hike from San Pedrillo to a ranger station, but due to the rainy season it was closed. And boy was it rainy!





I have never seen so much green in my entire life. Huge water drops rolled off the leaflets and into pools collecting on top of the deeply saturated red soil. Luckily our guide had lent us all handy knee-high rubber boots. Javier was great; he explained everything in both English and Spanish and had a phenomenal eye for spotting out birds. At times the jungle could be so spooky – thousands upon thousands of eyes staring at you…and you continue walking along, oblivious to it all. There is this certain respect that one feels in the presence of such a place. We were incredibly lucky and saw some very rare species, like the Black Cheek Tanager which is endemic to the area (meaning that Corcovado is the only place in the whole world that it exists!!)



A surprising thing that I’ve learned about Costa Rica is that a majority of the rain forest here is in fact secondary forest – forest that has grown back after having been destroyed by humans or natural disaster. Corcovado didn’t become a national park until 1975 but by then threats from logging, plantations and illegal mining had already devastated large parts of the land. Today, the primary and secondary forests blend together but distinct differences exist. The majority of the animals live in the secondary forest because resources are more readily available due to a much faster growth rate and less competition. Much higher biodiversity can be found in the primary forest due to richer nutrient availability. The primary forest has a very slow growing ancient feel about it. National Geographic has called the Osa Peninsula "the most biologically intense place on Earth".
The Fishtail Palm only grows in Primary Forest

We hiked for several hours deeper and deeper into the jungle until we popped out on a patch of secluded beach. Since the tide was low, we were able to walk back along the shoreline. I was straggling pretty far behind the group, obsessively taking photos of everything awesome when one of the Spaniards, David, called out to me. He pointed down at a brown package sealed with duct tape that had washed ashore. His girlfriend, Maria Carmen, and I huddled around as David took out his pocket knife. Before he had even sliced into the packaging, I had known what it was – a kilo of pure cocaine. I was right on the money (literally). A kilo of dry blow just sitting there. 35K staring at me right in the face. STRAIGHT UP LOCO. Only a week before I had heard on the news about a plane headed for Guatemala that had crashed in Costa Rica, carrying 170 kilos. Don’t worry, the decision was easy – we chucked the whole thing into the ocean.







Later that afternoon we headed back to Drake Bay. The rest of the day was equally as incredible. We met an old man who sold us some huge sugar cane stalks from plants on his property and let us take a few coconuts from his tree. The five of us headed down to the beach to catch a stunning sunset and go for a swim. Of all the places in the ocean to step, I had to go and step on a sea urchin. That was pleasant! And like a total boy, John failed all day to inform us that it was his birthday until it almost wasn’t. At dinner that evening we took care of that by having the bar’s DJ sing to him, which turned out to be the most awkward karaoke rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ I’ve ever heard. After a long day we all hit the sack.




The following morning was already Monday and time to leave. We had the option of taking an early boat and catching the morning bus back to San Jose or inching out every last minute but then having a three hour gap in the middle of nowhere, waiting for a bus. The brothers, Matt and John, bounced out early but Jeff, Adri and I weren’t quite ready to part. We continued our hike from Day 1 down the beach, going much further then daylight had permitted us before.





The Spaniards had made a last minute decision to leave at the same time as us and generously offered to give us a ride in their rent-a-car up to Jacó, a popular beach 4 hrs. north, with a regular bus schedule. We caught the late afternoon boat back through the Mangroves. I had learned my lesson and had come prepared with my poncho. The trip back became a whole adventure in itself. The road should have been called ‘Hippo-pothole-amus Highway’. Definitely almost died at least once. Then there were at least three police checkpoints to catch drug traffickers… (so glad that I had no reason to type ‘phew!’ after that last detail).



At around nightfall we reached Jacó and to our lovely surprise…there were no buses. After talking to a bunch of people that had no idea what they were talking about it, we headed 45 mins. north to town called Las Barrancas where we were told we could catch a 9 pm bus. There we said our goodbyes and thanked our new friends for their kindness…and waited for the bus…and waited…and waited. It never came. It was now 9:30 pm and we were standing in the middle of nowhere, with no ride, a broken cellphone and still hours away from San Jose.

Eventually a bus came by with the word ‘Uhala’ on the front, which meant absolutely nothing to the three of us. We were desperate and asked the bus driver if by chance he was going to roll through San Jose. He mumbled something about a ‘San Pedro’ or something of the variety…which sounded close enough, so we got on. Every single seat was filled and several more stood in the aisle way. Jeff and I scooted to the back in the dark and found ourselves some open rail to hang on to. I attempted to sleep but happened to be standing next to the ever so hated chatty chatters nestled in the back door stair well. I finally gave up and joined the gossipy floor party.

My new bus buddies made the time go by quickly and I got the low down; everyone on that bus was a Nicaraguan immigrant coming into San Jose to work. They had all been on the bus for six hours since the very first stop. The lady that I spoke with was employed as a maid by a richer Costa Rican family. She had three young children and told me she was thankful for her job. finally, the bus came to a stop and a swarm of taxi drivers stood outside, waiting to lasso some late night riders.

After a long journey, we had finally made it home.

We wanted adventure, and adventure is what we got.
























And for those of you interested, here is a list of the birds, mammals and plants I saw:

Great Curassow
Scarlet Macaw
Black Vulture
Brown Pelican
Crocodile
Boat billed heron
bare throated Tiger heron
slaty tailed trogon
Anolis ssp.
Ficus spp.
Black cheek tanager
Ceiba pentandra
Green Honeycreeper
Tree ferns
Marting pescador verde, Green Kingfisher
Ocelot
Howler mokey
Spider Monkey
Capuchin monkey
Ceiba
Cycad
White Hawk
Common Black hawk
Heliconia spp. of flowers
Helioconia butterflies

Rasta Loco

Finally made it to the beach!!! Puerto Viejo is on the Caribbean side of Costa Rica and the vibes there are SO different, so chill. The beach town embodies Rasta to the fullest - vibrant colors, reggae and of course that good 'ole reefer madness. The ocean is a bathtub, perfect for a midnight swim. And can't forget to drink out of coconut while swaying lazy in a hammock! Wait...am I in school or on vacation...edu-vaction?