Costa Rica Keeps Calling Me Back
I just touched down in Costa Rica again, my fourth trip in just over a year. There’s something about this place that’s hard to put into words, a magnetic pull that’s kept it in my mind since my first visit back in 2010.
That first trip was mostly surface-level, but I got the chance to come back not too long after and continued stoking the flames of interest in the country. Both of those trips I stayed in Jacó with a friend’s apartment there, mostly just relaxing without really venturing out to explore much. Four years later, I convinced my cousin to hold his bachelor party here, and we made it out to La Fortuna, where I experienced horseback riding for the first time.
The experiences from those visits stayed with me, and in 2024 when I was planning an epic summer trip to build core memories with my daughter, Costa Rica called again. Just after her seventh birthday, we explored La Fortuna, Monteverde, and Manuel Antonio together. She had her first surf lesson (I took a couple myself), we went on nighttime nature hikes, and tackled an epic zipline adventure. I returned a couple times after that November to revisit La Fortuna and discover Santa Teresa. Each region feels completely different, from misty cloud forests to laid-back surf culture, yet the warm hospitality and natural beauty remain constant throughout.
Now I’m back for a week, and I feel the familiar mix of attraction and caution bubbling up in me. Similar to how I’ve felt at home in Miami these past few years. More development, more crowds, more of the familiar creep that I’ve watched transform my hometown over the years. It’s the same pattern: a special place gets discovered, then optimized, then sanitized until the soul that made it special gets diluted. And you’re left with vultures and tourists who care more about how many others tag a city in their pictures than what kind of connection they can make to a place.
In Santa Teresa, Airbnbs are so plentiful the prices fluctuate wildly between high and low season. Restaurants with prices that would make a New Yorker wince. The infrastructure is struggling to keep up with the influx of people who fell in love with the “authentic” version and are inadvertently destroying it by their very presence.
But maybe Costa Rica is different. Maybe the “pura vida” spirit runs deep enough to resist complete commodification. Maybe the country’s commitment to conservation and sustainability will protect what matters most. Maybe the warmth of the people and the richness of the culture can survive the invasion of digital nomads and luxury resorts.
I want to believe that. I need to believe that. Because places like this, places that teach you something new about yourself and the world every time you visit, are becoming rarer. Costa Rica isn’t just a vacation destination for me. It’s a reminder of what’s possible when a country prioritizes life over profit, when people choose patience over productivity, when natural beauty isn’t just something to exploit but something to protect.