I sat at the poolside bar enjoying my welcome drink and the infamous Tamarindo Beach sunset. On the beach, a couple was exchanging wedding vows, a young boy was bathing in the surf under the watchful gaze of his mother, and a group of local men was decompressing from the day’s work - Pura Vida.
Two days earlier, I’d had a really unpleasant phone call with a client after her bank rejected a direct debit for “insufficient funds.” Those were apparently trigger words for her, because she lost it on me. As soon as I hung up, I called United Airlines about an award ticket I knew I had, but I couldn’t find the paperwork.
“It expires a week from tomorrow,” the agent said.
“Oh, that’s terrific,” I said. “I still have a couple of days...”
“To clarify,” the agent said. “Your travel must be completed by next Friday.”
Saturday morning, I left New York City on United’s second flight out of Newark Airport to Costa Rica.
I flew into Liberia Airport to stay at the Hotel Captain Suizo, “a quiet hotel right on the beach at the very south end of Playa Tamarindo,” according to Culture Trip. But what really sealed the deal for me - no TVs in the rooms, no bubble bath pool parties, and no lack of places to swing in a hammock.
I had made arrangements with the hotel to have a driver pick me up from the airport, which proved to be a Godsend because I was unprepared for the onslaught of vendors when I stepped out of the airport. That, combined with the oppressive heat, made my head spin.
I had arrived at the end of the dry season, and the scenery on my way to my destination was nothing short of scorched earth. The grass was brown. The cows were malnourished. Costa Rica in person was nothing like what I had imagined it would be from reading about it on travel blogs.
Soon the landscape changed as I arrived in Tamarindo, the “Americanized” side of Costa Rica. I was relieved to see shops and restaurants. My destination, Hotel Capitan Suizo, would be right around the corner.
“This hotel. Stinky,” my driver said, in broken English, as we pulled into the porte-cochere. “Monkey poo!” I had read that the hotel was a sanctuary for howler monkeys, but I had not factored in the smell of poo.
But the beach looked as quiet as I had hoped. Between yoga sessions, surf lessons, restaurants, and boat tours, there is a lot going on on Tamarindo Beach. However, because of Hotel Capitan Suizo’s location at the very southern end of the beach, that stretch of sand was quiet but popular with dog owners. I had to pick my spot with great care.
My first two days in Tamarindo were equally unpleasant. When I checked into the hotel, I booked a number of activities through the concierge. The first was a snorkeling trip. It lasted five hours. The roundtrip boat voyage to the snorkeling spot accounted for four of them. When I returned, I cancelled every activity save the spa treatments I had scheduled for the next day in the hotel’s open-air spa.
An open-air massage in 100 percent heat and humidity, with no breeze and plenty of bugs, is misery. Even my manicure, which I received while lying down on the massage table, was miserable. Chilled towels and mint-infused water were the only respites.
The following morning, after a swim in the hotel pool, I took a walk into town for lunch. I followed a group of construction workers into a hole-in-the-wall restaurant and had an amazing gallo pinto, a refreshing mojito, and a scoop of chocolate ice cream that melted before it reached my lips. It was the cheapest meal of my stay: 1,700 colones, or roughly $3. I returned to the hotel by way of the beach and had a little siesta in one of the hammocks on the property while trying to make it through Malcolm Gladwell’s Blink.
The rest of my stay fell into this comfortable daily routine. In the evenings, I had dinner on my balcony while listening to the cacophony of the howler monkeys. It always arrived with an extra serving of pan de ajo. Sometimes I ate by the light of a kerosene lamp, which, I learned my first evening, wasn’t there solely for aesthetic purposes.
And I slept soundly every night. It’s possible the nightly thunderstorms and blackouts had something to do with it. Pura Vida!
THE HAMMOCK SOCIETY TRAVEL TIP
Book your airport transfer through the hotel. It’s a little bit of luxury, especially for a short stay. Your hotel knows your time of arrival, so your room is ready upon your arrival.