Hayley in Wanderlust: Quepos and Jaco

At the fresh, new age of 22, I boarded my flight (the day after my birthday) to Costa Rica. The start of Chapter 2.

I landed in San Jose, which reminded me of Gauyaquil in the sense that it's one of those strange 'nothing' cities. I spent two nights there because I couldn't figure out where to head to first. Apparently, this trip has unravelled all the focus I used to put into planning my life. Now, it appears I'm even more dithery, but I'm definitely not as stressed, which I take as a positive.

Eventually, I decided to head to Quepos, a small town on the Central Pacific coast, located near to the Manuel Antonio National Park. I booked myself into 'Central Backpackers' because my guide book reccomended it...
I should not have listened to my guide book.
I should also, by now, have learnt not to pay for a place until I've actually seen my room.
It's not that the hostel was bad, the manager was lovely and breakfast was good. It's just that the dorms were being renovated so I was put into a small room and I happened to be the only guest staying there. Bit shit. Travelling solo is awesome, but having come off such an amazing couple of weeks surrounded by people I'd grown to know and love, being totally on my own again was a little bit soul destorying. Thankfully, my two nights passed quickly and I checked myself into 'Wide Mouth Frog' a much nicer hostel, that had a pool, a very friendly dog called Mocca, and most importantly, other backpackers.

The beach in Quepos isn't particularly big and practically disappears when the tide rolls in. But the grassy banks are pretty to sit on and watch sunset. In Manuel Antonio, the public beach is much nicer and the bus journey there only took 15 minutes and cost me 320 Colones (about 45p).

Costa Rica is ridiculously expensive but it's public transport is cheap.
I don't really get it.

I had wanted to visit the National Park, but broke out in some hideous allergic reaction and didn't want to leave the hostel for fear of scratching my own arms off in public. That would have been kinda gross.
(But dw I'm all good now, thanks for asking).

Next it was a short 1.5 hour bus journey to the touristy town of Jaco. Despite being over run with Gringos and feeling like a tiny slice of the USA, I actually really liked it. It's one of those places where the touristy tat of it all adds to the atmosphere. I stayed at the incredible 'Room2Board' - a hostel that is basically a hotel. It had a pool, was impressively clean and had a yoga studio to boot. It was more expensive, at a full $16 a night, but the money was completely justified.
At this stage, the allergic reaction was so painful and sore, I sought medical advice from the chemist. She gave me two different sets of tablets to take and said that I was strictly not to drink. They worked, but not drinking was novel. Not that I need alcohol to talk to people (ask anyone who knows me, I'm probably on the annoying side of chatty), but having a beer and sitting around a in hostel come hand in hand. It just makes it easier, because you can, at the very least, nod at someone vaguely friendly looking who's also on their own and drinking in the hope of striking up conversation…

'I am not an alcoholic, I am a drunk. Alcoholics go to meetings and I go to parties' - truth.

 

Anyway, not drinking did encourage me to be healthier and, it has to be said, yoga as the sun sets over the Pacific Ocean is officially my new favourite thing ever. I'd forgotten just how much I love yoga and why I became so obsessed it before I came away. I mean, absolutely no other form of excercise has ever, or will ever, get me willingly out of bed at 6am. It made me almost (almost) look forward to going home, so I can get back to practising more regularly.

Not that I was all that focused on home, as I lounged by the pool and bathed in the Central American sun, that is... 

-xo