Anatomy of a Travel Story

As someone said, "Travel writing is a great way to ruin a vacation." True sometimes, but not always. The following three entries describe a day exploring the tiny beach town of Drake on Costa Rica's Osa Peninsula, perhaps the wildest, most authentic region in Costa Rica.


LANCHA - (n.) A small boat with the motorized agility of a water puma. Lancha captain from jungle town of Sierpe has many large gold rings on his fingers and more gold around his neck. He steers with confidence when the brown Sierpe River meets the big, wavy Pacific Ocean. It's like a Six Flags ride without a shut-off valve. Lancha arrives to Drake Bay safe and sound.

RAIN FOREST BEACH WALK - Flip-flops and sandals work great on the cocaine-white sands of Miami. Down here, there's Amazon-like forest on the left and tan, coarse-grained-sand beach nooks surrounded by sharp black rocks on the right. Big trees curve over the scene. I slip on their roots repeatedly.

Henry + Public Service Announcement

Henry was sitting exactly like this when I passed him on the Drake Bay beach. He was very still. The light was nice so I asked if I could shoot his portrait and interview him. He said fine.

Henry Perez Jimenez, 31
Lives in: Bihagua, Osa Peninsula, Costa Rica (born in San Jose)
Profession: Groundskeeper at Aguila de Osa Inn, Drake
Favorite part: Working in the gardens with the flowers
Least favorite: Nothing. It’s very nice.
Free time: Ride horses, work with chickens, see the wildlife, the Tucans
Travel: Running of the Bulls in Spain
Last meal: Rice, beans, pork, juice
Book: About the Osa Peninsula
Religious: Yes, Catholic


Henry lives 45 minutes away by horse. He and his wife and children live in a tiny village. He has no electricity and must sometimes swing on a rope across the rain-swollen creek that separates his mud floor house from the road to Drake Bay. He works as a groundkeeper for the Aguila de Osa Inn. Henry cannot read or write. I met a young Costa Rican woman who works for Metropolitan Sociometrics Research Institute (MSRI). She knew Henry's family because MSRI studies the need for education and health resources in remote towns such as Henry's.
Their website is (the longest in the history of the world wide web)...

www.thegladysishidastonetropicalreserve.giving.officelive.com

Ricardo,$1 Canoe Captain, Purveyor of Fine Seed Jewelry

After a two hour hike the Rio Claro interrupts the beach-jungle routine with a torrent of standing waves tearing down the middle of a beach. The thigh-high waves look hungry for fresh digital cameras so I decide not to attempt a hero's crossing. I whistle for Ricardo.
Ricardo paddles his teal canoe across a slow pool behind the beach. He drops off one passenger and picks me up. Four strokes later we've crossed the Rio Claro. I sit at Ricardo's picnic table as he makes beaded necklaces. I buy one. He does not talk much. He paddles me back across and I return from whence I came.

A Waterslide Proposal

A BEAUTIFUL WATERSLIDE COURTESY OF WORLD WIDE WEB

Back in the little town of Drake I look for Sergio who promised to show me the rapel course he is building over a waterfall. He's nowhere to be found, but David, a 22 year-old enterprising gringo from Florida is lying in his hammock overseeing two men cutting wood for David's soon-to-be sushi restaurant. It will likely make Drake the lowest per-capita-sushi-eating-town-with-a-sushi-shop.
David saddled up his four-wheeler and took me on a tour of the forest where we found Sergio in the midst of building his zip-line and rapel course on David's step-father-in-law's farm. (David married a Costa Rican woman, Rebeca and they have a baby boy. Like I said, he is a very enterprising young man.) On the way back, David and I have a beer in his favorite jungle-perch cantina. The bar's deck pokes out over a steep slope with views to Drake Bay. David explains his dream of building a children's waterslide park right here off this deck. A few slides here and there, pools at the bottom, a sandwich and drink bar up here. For $15,000 I could get $2,000 a month once it's up and running. I consider the current economic climate - also a slippery downward spiral - then run a quick cost-benefit analysis. I finish my beer and pass on the Great Waterslide Proposal of Drake Bay.

EX-PATS WAY OFF THE GRID - The day ends as I paddle a sea kayak across silvery, calm Drake Bay with Sean in a boat beside me. Sean and his wife and daughter paddle sea kayaks a half mile up a clear, canyoned river to their simple home in the jungle. They've lived up the Aguila River for years and raised Star there. Sean is a surf and kayak guide and leads unique free-dive excursions into the marine-rich Pelagic Zone (where the continental shelf drops off and the big fish hang out). Their jungle life shocks me on one hand with its raw extremeness and on the other with its normalcy; I realize that despite the kayak commute, river baths, thatch-hut kitchen, and no electricity, it is a life far more routine and predictable than mine.