I don't know if it's my Latin blood, but there's something about touching the soil of a Latin / Caribbean country that runs chills down my spine. Even as I write, I often find myself taking in the moment - eyes closed - and breathing in my surroundings. It's warm, calming, comforting, and gives me positive vibes. Have you ever gotten the feeling when you just know you're in the right place? I get that here. I can't stop smiling and the connection is unbreakable.
I made it to Santa Teresa. The ferry from Puntarenas took my friend, Adaobi, and I straight to Paquera; the city where drifters, tourists, and locals alike, all caught vibrant buses to surf towns.
This time, with no planning ahead of me other than "make it there before dark", I followed the surf boards and sunburned dreadlocks and hopped on a hot, crowded bus. Sweat and all, you could taste the excitement.
Three hours later I was in Santa Teresa. With most people heading to Montezuma, a couple of surf towns before mine, I had to maneuver my way in a different direction and find a place to crash before nightfall.
Luckily, I was traveling with just a backpack, my Spanish was better than ever, and I'd just learned through Facebook that a high school classmate was staying in the same town. I used his hostel location as a way to figure out my surroundings and found a cheap place not too far from what seamed like a popular beach area. I figured, hey - I'll stay here one night and at sunrise start looking for a more comfortable spot. Little did I know, many sunrises would come and go, and I would want to stay there much longer than expected.