Road Trip: Santa Teresa

So in our continued attempt to bite off little pieces of Costa Rica in a series of moderate road trips, we took advantage of some friends visiting Santa Teresa. I still can’t get over how fun it is to pack the car, lock up the house and go visiting other people and places inside of our own big visit. I would add that just as fun is having dozens of your homies show up in your adopted hometown for their winter vacations. A big shriek of appreciation to everyone I got to see in the last two weeks; I talked myself hoarse in my enthusiasm to catch up with everyone. Gracias a mi gente–no tenía ningun idea como me alegrara de verles! 

The drive to Santa Teresa was scenic and paved in places, but as we always seem to be drawn inexorably towards coastlines, so too do we find ourselves on abysmal, rutted roads. We rented a villa with a beachfront “yard” (a sandy, raked palm lined rectangle abutting the actual beach) which was already a difference in Santa Teresa. The beachfront is lined with private villas, though they are set back in the trees enough so that they can be barely seen from the beach.

A foodie’s dream, we were amazed at the number of restaurants we wanted to try but didn’t have enough meals available in our four day visit. We loved the places we did try with the guidance of our Santa Teresa Nantucket crowd, and I find myself now feeling a little forlorn for the paucity of options in Nosara.

What I did not love was the Strip–an almost paved stretch of road running parallel to the coast on which sits everything. The result is a road that might be a bit too busy for a relaxing walk which consequently leads to more people driving places. I bet it’s great after high season though.

But walking the beach is lovely, and as I did so one morning with a friend she exclaimed, “Oh look, here’s the sand guy!” (We don’t have a sand guy, and I was pretty impressed by theirs.)  Like the Buddhists with their butter mosaics, he had raked out a design at low tide making a perishable masterpiece. We passed him in the morning, and I was able to see the finished result on the way back up the beach before the tide came up.

The tide pools were great for many things beyond sand art, including soaking oneself and waiting for the water to heat up. There were so many of varying depths and diameters, that it was easy to find one to plop into and relax.

Since the surf here scared me a little, I’ll count the tide pools right up there with lots-of-great-places-to-eat as my favorite thing about Santa Teresa. Of course, my fear of the surf was not shared by my three boys who were pretty thrilled about it. And there was even one brush with stardom that Russell is not soon to forget:

The free advice Russell received was perfectly suited to his surfing tendencies: “Just because you can catch the wave doesn’t mean that you should.” I have often thought of Russell as the kid who probably catches more waves than anyone but has more wipeouts that anyone. I guess that occurred to Wingnut also?

And because no post is complete without an insect story, last night there was a significant hatching event in our bathroom. Or maybe just an emergence since they seemed pretty developed. Flying ants this time, and Russell called me in to look at about 10 p.m. Having seen nary a one up to this point, I was not prepared for the melee of swirling, buzzing and bumping around the flickering fluorescent tube over the shower. Holding my breath and blasting Baygon in all directions, I backed out of the room and pulled the door shut. Don’t worry about brushing your teeth tonight, I told Russell as I laid a towel in front of the gap under the door.

Baygon has a strange floral scent that completely masks the fact that it is hard-core bug killer. Realizing I might sleep a bit too deeply on the waves of that sweet, sickly smell, I made my bed on the rock hard leather couch in the living room. Alas, not a great night of sleep, but better to stay awake all night than not to wake up in the morning.