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Nat Geo Traveller

Costa Classics

From exploring active volcanoes and riding river rapids to spotting resplendent birdlife in pristine cloud forest, Costa Rica has plenty of adventures for intrepid travellers.

Take the family to Mal Pais

Words: Johanna Berkman
Photographs: Krista Rossow

My husband, Manny, our three kids and I are 45 minutes into a bumpy ride along a winding road on the Nicoya Peninsula of Costa Rica when I have a sudden flashback to four months ago. Sitting pretty on a groomed beach, we were talking about — well, what does anyone talk about at the end of one holiday but the planning for the next? Tired of spending a fortune on the same old conventional family trips, we’d vowed the next one would be different: we’d travel to an unfamiliar place to live like locals — which is why we now find ourselves en route to the seaside settlement of Mal Pais (Bad Country), a name derived from the area’s steep, rugged terrain that’s unsuitable for farming.

“This can’t be the restaurant,” says my 11-year-old son as we arrive at Banana Beach and take a seat at one of the haphazardly placed plastic tables, surrounded by placid-looking local dogs. There’s not quite enough shade at our table and the food is slow in coming. But rather than complain, my children peel off one-by-one to gape at the same thing Manny and I can’t help but stare at: the enormous, savage beauty of the unspoiled jungle beach.

Usually when travelling, we have to stick the children in some pricey day camp to grab even five minutes alone. Here there’s nary a nanny, ball or sand bucket in sight. All that’s left is what’s around us — and our kids become more absorbed in exploring this new world than they’ve ever been in anything else.

This means Manny and I are free. We soon notice we’re the only English-speakers here; those around us are speaking Spanish, French and German. No one seems to be talking about the stock market, housing or the best after-school sports programmes. If they are, we can’t understand them.

We haven’t come to Mal Pais expressly to see wildlife — for that, we’d visit Manuel Antonio National Park or one of Costa Rica’s other reserves. Yet by staying at the small Hotel Moana, we’re in close proximity to the natural world, a fact underscored the following morning when we’re awakened by the calls of red-furred howler monkeys.

At breakfast, on the lodge’s cantilevered dining pavilion — featuring, perhaps too literally, drop-dead views of the swirling ocean below — we spy iguanas in the treetops. Vultures circle in the distance.
“So you like Tico style,” observes Bruno Demarco Quiroz, our hotel’s young Argentine manager. Tico? “Native Costa Rican. Laid back, pura vida, live and let live.” We all nod and, assured, he gives us a recommendation: a surfing school at Playa Hermosa, or Beautiful Beach.

To get there, we must first drive through Santa Teresa, a small, hectic town crammed with surfboard and sunglasses shops, in a swirling cloud of dust. People buzz around on mopeds, most of them wearing bandanas over their faces. We drive by a French bakery and an open-air chicken restaurant, where whole chickens are being grilled.

At the Shaka Surf School, we hire Brent Newell, a 23-year-old blond transplant from Cocoa Beach, Florida, to coach my husband and son. He steers us to a through-the-jungle shortcut that, he assures us, will lead to the beach. The path quickly turns into a river of mud. With the boys off on their lesson, I’m left to slip-slide along it with one child hiked up on each hip. Together, the three of us pass under a canopy of giant trees bedecked with mud clumps — termite colonies (a fact I keep to myself). Little brown spider monkeys up in the branches rain nuts down to the ground. Kerplunk! Kerplunk! Then we see it: a beach even bigger, wilder, and more beautiful than the last one, the only commerce on it two men selling coconut water fresh from the husk.

By the time the kids are getting hungry, I ask Newell for suggestions. “Koji’s,” he answers. “Awesome sushi. And don’t worry about having the right clothes. This,” he points to his bare chest and board shorts, “is being dressed for Costa Rica.” We descend on Koji’s in our beach cover-ups and flip-flops. The food is amazing and the crowd casual, in a beautiful-people sort of way. Still, the vibe is decidedly Tico, with friendly dogs roaming between our tables.

And so begins the routine of our two-week trip, although we'll try something new each day. We’ll hike to waterfalls near the neighbouring town of Montezuma. We’ll visit a beachfront Italian restaurant, Playa de los Artistas, where we’ll enjoy perhaps the best, and most artfully arranged meal we’ve ever had. We’ll ride horses with a 16-year-old guide named Josué, who, as he leads us through a campground, will warn, “there'll be some dogs; don’t act scared,” just as a ragtag pack of 20 or so friendly hounds bound towards our horses.

We’ll lose track of time, forget what day of the week it is, and, near the end of our stay, discover a beach with tidal pools where hundreds of snails cling to the primordial rock. Our children will play here for hours, splashing among the hermit crabs, starfish, and other sea creatures.

“It’s like SeaWorld,” I’ll tell them.
“No,” my 11-year-old will say. “It’s the real one.”

Get up close to an Active Volcano

Costa Rica’s central spine is a fiery cordillera of volcanoes, many of which are active. One of the most popular excursions is an exploration of Arenal Volcano National Park. Set among lusciously rich farmland in the northern lowlands, Arenal’s symmetrically perfect cone at 5,358ft always impresses with its eye-catching pyroclastic displays and cindery clouds.

Arenal has continued to rumble since its last major eruption in 2010 and, at nighttime, guided hikes around its lower slopes may reveal glowing orange lava bombs tumbling down the steep flanks. Hiking trails run through lava fields left by past eruptions, and public bathing areas harness the geothermally heated river water of the Rio Agua Caliente. Similarly impressive is the loftier Poás Volcano National Park: a smoking giant with a cone topping 9,000ft.

Its mile-wide caldera possesses a blue-green tinged lake ringed by bubbling sulphurous pools and cascading geysers. These trails lead through gnarly cloud forest rich with birdlife.

Ride the perfect wave in Puerto Viejo

Costa Rica is a world-class surfing destination and some of the country’s biggest waves are found around the laidback Caribbean coastal town of Puerto Viejo. Against rainforest-backed beaches, the shallow reefs create fast-moving surf dubbed ‘the Salsa Brava waves’. They present Costa Rica’s biggest breaks that curl over into tube rides. Less-experienced surfers might prefer Playa Hermosa in northern Puntarenas, whose Pacific waves offer more consistent surf, although there are still big swells to be enjoyed by the more experienced. Nearby Jacó is the place to party.

View Costa Rica from its Highest Point

On a clear day, it's possibe to see both the Caribbean and Pacific coastlines from the 12,533ft summit of Cerro Chirripo. This is Costa Rica’s highest mountain that’s climbable all-year round. Reaching the top is arduous and several days should be planned for the steep nine-mile ascent from base camp to summit. The main trail is well organised with refugio (huts), so taking a tent isn’t a strict necessity, although pre-booking your hike is.

Go birdwatching in Cloud Forest

The Costa Rican bird everybody wants to see is the insanely vain quetzal. But while it’s recognisable by its iridescent electric-green plumage, scarlet breast and magnificent streamer tail twice the length of its body, it’s not always easy to spot. The quetzal draws birders to the small cloud forest reserve of Monteverde (54 sq-miles), which boasts a staggering 2.5% of the world's biodiversity — 10% of its orchid-rich flora alone is endemic.

Located in northern Costa Rica in Cordillera de Tilarán, Monteverde’s forest trails are an ornithological paradise, with over 400 bird species. The hunt for quetzals is best attempted early morning — which can be facilitated by a stay at the Monteverde lodge — before the bird retreats deeper into its habitat. I saw a multitude of birds on my 6 am guided foray, including exotic flycatchers, but not the resplendent male quetzal. However, on the way back we spotted one nonchalantly perched on a small bridge. And I can now attest that few birds rival its beauty.
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