My Caribbean Voyage

It all started with the coronavirus pandemic, lockdowns, and isolation. I found myself laying in bed all day watching YouTube videos while confined to the frigid, cold, mountain climate imagining a warm and tropical utopia to escape too.

I did some minor research about touring countries that were open to travelers during the pandemic. I uncovered Mexico and Costa Rica were the only two countries open to nomads that did not require a COVID-19 test. Furthermore, I have always dreamed of visiting Costa Rica as a nature enthusiast so, I decided to look into relatively cheap flights. The requirements to enter Costa Rica are.

1. Complete a Health Pass questionnaire



2. Purchase travelers insurance.



3. Have a legal valid passport.

As for the destination, I used my intuition to help find a specific location with many beaches and a Pirate-like community. I discovered a little beach town near the Caribbean sea called Puerto Viejo. I decided to put in a request for a two-week vacation with my job. I was immediately approved, I purchased a one-way flight ticket to Costa Rica.



I packed up some articles of clothing into my 55-liter Osprey backpack and headed to the airport. Earlier, before I arrived at the terminal I just so happened to notice that my miniature pocket-purse with my cash, phone, and passport went missing! I began to panic, frantically retracing my steps. A woman addressed me by my first name, "Are you, Danielle?" She asked. I responded, " Yes, I am." She presented me with my pocket purse and said "You dropped this." Relieved I thanked the woman and tried to offer her payment for returning all of my important things to me, she kindly declined and wished me well on my journey. I boarded the airplane and was off to my destination, Costa Rica.

I landed in the city of San Jose and took a cab to my hostel where I spent the night. The next morning I boarded a bus, traveling out of the city connecting to a two-lane road that went straight through the misty mountains and lush green jungle forest taking me straight to Puerto Viejo. As the bus crossed a concrete bridge the small road was bumper to bumper with cars and people walking the jagged sidewalks. I was surrounded by jungle, organic bamboo wooden huts, palm tree leaves fanning across the tops of canopies, known for being a surfing community and home to one of the world's largest surf breaks "Salsa Bravo." The community's inhabitants are mostly of Tico (Costa Rican), Jamaican descent, and Europeans. Only one main road takes you through the town connected by notorious beaches all within minutes apart from each other. Reggae music blasted all throughout the town including one of my favorites, Bob Marley. The aroma of highly cultivated marijuana filled the town and smiling faces greeted you as you walked by. Fresh coconuts swelled from the palm trees, it was a Shangri-la vortex swirling with centralized energy conducive to healing and self-discovery.

.My first week I rented a cruiser bike and I cruised to all the beaches, Playa Negra (Black Sand) Cocles, and Playa Chiquita. A parade of locals and tourists also had their cruiser bikes, surfboards attached, and children doing acrobatics on the handlebars while their parents rode them off to the beach. Hippies and Rastas with dreadlocks, longboards, covered in tattoos, moto bikes, four-wheelers, and three-wheelers, all living characters from a movie like Mad Max with a hint of Jurassic Park. Puerto Viejo was an authentic community that represented sovereignty even the locals outnumbered law enforcement it was liberation from restrictive governments, it was tribal lawlessness, the jungle decided who can stay and who goes. I spent days bathing in the turquoise blue waters, drifting on my back being gently lifted and cradled by the saltwater sea, I really believed that I died and went to heaven. Breathing in the fresh air of the rainforest filling my lungs with rhapsodic life force energy, I was in a trance-like lucid state experiencing a connection to Pachamama. I had various encounters with two-toed sloths, parrots, and vast blue butterflies, a mob of howler monkeys were perched in the trees making deep, gutteral sounds that echoed through the jungle. There were celebrations with bonfires on the beach, ecstatic dances, women's circles, yoga, surfing, drinking fresh pipa water from coconuts cracked open with a machete. Fisherman boats lined the beaches and local artisans serving traditional dishes of the Caribbean, rice and beans.

My first week I rented a cruiser bike and I cruised to all the beaches, Playa Negra (Black Sand) Cocles, and Playa Chiquita. A parade of locals and tourists also had their cruiser bikes, surfboards attached, and children doing acrobatics on the handlebars while their parents rode them off to the beach. Hippies and Rastas with dreadlocks, longboards, covered in tattoos, moto bikes, four-wheelers, and three-wheelers, all living characters from a movie like Mad Max with a hint of Jurassic Park. Puerto Viejo was an authentic community that represented sovereignty even the locals outnumbered law enforcement it was liberation from restrictive governments, it was tribal lawlessness, the jungle decided who can stay and who goes. I spent days bathing in the turquoise blue waters, drifting on my back being gently lifted and cradled by the saltwater sea, I really believed that I died and went to heaven. Breathing in the fresh air of the rainforest filling my lungs with rhapsodic life force energy, I was in a trance-like lucid state experiencing a connection to Pachamama. I had various encounters with two-toed sloths, parrots, and vast blue butterflies, a mob of howler monkeys were perched in the trees making deep, gutteral sounds that echoed through the jungle There were celebrations with bonfires on the beach, ecstatic dances, women's circles, yoga, surfing, drinking fresh pipa water from coconuts cracked open with a machete. Fisherman boats lined the beaches and local artisans serving traditional dishes of the Caribbean, rice and beans.



Not only was Puerto Viejo a vortex it was a mirror of manifestations, If I had a specific person in mind I would coincidentally run into them. Any thoughts that I had would be mirrored in conversation with other like-minded people. I was so drawn and sucked into this euphoric paradise I would often tease by saying "I am just gonna stay here forever." And then, I lost my cellphone.



In the jungle, nature overpowers technology. Many people have shared their stories of cars breaking down, having computer issues and even losing their cell-phones, a common story. Anytime, it rained electricity was always lost, the rainforest is a warm and wet tropical ecosystem it affects everything artificial.

When I lost my cellphone I accepted the fate, I was addicted to technology, it was time to disconnect. I could have bought a new phone but instead, I chose to save my money. My manfestation came true, I made the choice to stay. I quit my job and came across some volunteer work that ended up extending my stay in Costa Rica from two weeks to almost four months.

Volunteering provided me with free meals and free rent. I was able to experience some incredible places like a yoga retreat center, permaculture farms, I even got to live in a treehouse! Traveling through volunteer work has given me an incredible opportunity to experience some amazing cultures, communities, and meeting some remarkable people. The adventure still continues, I am looking forward to writing and sharing more articles in the near future. I will conclude this story with two simple words, "Pura Vida".