We made our way to Jaco early in the afternoon by way of La Fortuna. It was about a 3.5-hour drive winding up at down the mountain to the shore. Steve was kind enough to drive and I dozed in and out while the sun unknowingly charred my right arm. We arrived ready to unload and relax for a bit before exploring the town. Per usual, we had picked out a rad, open-air loft through Airbnb that was close to the beach owned by a former professional surfer, Emmanuel. There was really only one rule for this place which was to lock the fridge before you go to bed. Don’t worry, there’s a story about that later.
Doesn’t Costa Rica sound like a wonderful place to spend the holidays? To be completely honest, we ended up here by accident and kind of frantically. We initially booked flights to San Juan, Puerto Rico to enjoy 9 days in one place. This was my version of strong-arming Steve into a slow travel vacation. Fast forward to a week later I was in pieces begging my grandparents to flee Florida before Hurricane Irma, where the eye was slated to land right over their home. And then Maria happened and Puerto Rico is still putting themselves back together 9 months later, mind you with minimal aid and acknowledgment from the US government. But I can’t even begin to start on that one.
