Goodbye Coyote

Saying goodbye to our penultimate pacific deep red sunset in Playa Coyote is a very beautiful but also sad experience. We have really loved our stay here. Made new friends, explored the region (and its many terrible roads), dined in many of the local places, sat on our wonderful veranda and watched countless monkeys pass by. We have explored the jungle next door, met a myriad of insects, nice and not so nice, and generally had an amazing time. But it is time to think of our personal belongings once  again. We have got too comfortable. Life in the car is a long time ago. And, now, we have to pack! No mean feat when you have let yourselves spread into every orifice the accommodation provides but we will do it, reluctantly, for it is all we have in the world right now. 

This part of Costa Rica is a real gem. It is as the guidebooks foretell, it is Costa Rica of twenty years past. It is not without its problems but those problems are generally related to infrastructure. It would be a shame though. Because with improved infrastructure would come the throngs of others in pursuit of their own pieces of paradise. I don’t mind the roads, they speak of times gone by. If I came across them in the Yorkshire Dales I would think of James Herriot and long lost country pursuits, farmers in beaten up old tractors pulling carts of cattle to the local market in the big town. And that’s how it is here. It’s rustic, unfettered by modern contrivances, a place frozen in time. But that will change for sure in the not too distant future. 

Which is why we today had the inkling of a vision provided by our new friend Hans. He had been away for most of our duration here. Travelling in Canada with his wife, but we had already heard of him through the jungle grapevine. He had become a sort of local hero in our minds. Every body new him and said he was the man to know if you wanted to settle or buy land here. So this morning we met him in his office in the town. An amiable fellow of dutch origin who had bought a whole hillside thirty years ago with two colleagues and divided it up into lots to sell for building plots. He was a mine of information. His reputation preceded him by far. We discovered that it is very cheap to buy and has very relaxed building regulations and many other useful titbits of information. We were very grateful, but even more so when he took us to see a plot just down the road from where we are. A sea view, three and a half acres of beautiful land ripe for a lovely house with an infinity pool and a guest house to boot. I was smitten. So was Dani I think. But we have still to explore other regions of this coast before making up our minds. 

The best bit about being here at this time of year is that we are seeing it at its worst. But worst is the wrong word really. It’s the rainy season, roads get flooded and electricity disappears regularly but it is also the most lush and bountiful time. Avocado’s and mangoes just drop from the trees, everything is green and beautiful. So worst is probably the wrong adjective to use. We are seeing it in the low season, when many chose not to come here. It is quiet, not much happens, life is altogether slower, if you could get any slower than Tico time, but that’s what I mean by worst. And that has been the purpose really. We want to live through all the seasons, well, they only have two, dry and wet. (Did you know, a completely related but geeky fact, trees don’t have growth rings here. I never knew that, no seasons you see?) But it is not until you have lived through a whole sun cycle that you can really appreciate what any country has to offer. We have yet to decide whether we will invest or just carry on travelling but we certainly will be enjoying every minute til we do so.