Shelters made of giant palm fronds and bamboo offer respite from the sun or rain (we hid under one during a massive downpour, even more massive salads in hand). Winding back to the beach, soccer goals entertain active children. An aquamarine house resting on an overgrown lawn transports you to Havana. Open fields allow sunlight to cover you, shaded only by the occasional palm tree. Thick jade green grass feels foreign under your feet. Prohibitive coral reef covers the shore, forcing pedestrians to walk a lovely path through the jungle. The path to Cocles gives no hint of the surfing mecca at its end. For us, it’s the closest thing to civilization, a twenty-minute walk from home. Yoga centers and ecological restaurants owned by European transplants fill the area. Organic, fair trade, and local are more than just buzzwords here. Tropical fish reminiscent of Nemo swim between channels of coral.įallen palm trees offer respite from the sun.įifty meters through the jungle you find the town of Playa Chiquita. Germans rub their topless counterparts with tanning oil, fearless of the equatorial sun. Ethnically diverse families wade in the shallow tide pools, babies suckling their mother’s exposed breast. Playa Chiquita is easily my favorite of the beaches here. Civilization reveals itself once more in Playa Chiquita. Now immersed in pure wilderness the surroundings are akin to the set of Lost for at least a mile. The beach quickly narrows from high tides coral and driftwood create constant obstructions. Dogs run wild, tourists and locals wade in the ocean, children ride bicycles through the jungle onto the shore and play in the creek nearby. We rarely choose the road.īeyond the cliff is another local hangout, though this beach is backed by a functioning hotel and restaurant. Reaching the rest of Punta Uva requires hiking over a cliff in the jungle… or taking the road. Families and friends lay under the protective shade of palm trees, unbothered by the ghetto behind them, eating snacks and playing music from their nearby trucks. It would cost $650,000 to clean up the mess, making its further deterioration imminent. The land developer violated Costa Rican environmental laws and after thirty years of legal debate was forced to shut down. Today pink rubble and support beams lay in its place. For most the name is synonymous with beauty I call it home.Ĭlosest to Manzanillo, a popular beach among locals rests on the sandy lawn of a once magnificent resort. Punta Uva varies between developed and wild more than any other beach community in the area. Punta Uva: Raw Beauty and a Bit of Wreckage The walk to Punta Uva is so desolate it’s easy to wonder if you’re the only human being on earth. The beach continues for miles, expansive and flat with little surf, perfect for swimming.
Caves formed by coral reef create an entrance to the natural reserve filled with howler monkeys and sloths. Children drink from coconuts, machetes in hand. Houses painted aqua, fuschia, pumpkin, and lime surrounded by tropical gardens hint at an old Puerto Viejo, before spoken Spanish replaced Patois (Jamaican Creole). The sounds of televised Reggae fill the air, blaring at Maxi’s, one of three restaurants in the entire town. That every day I walk the beach I see something different and for a moment fail to recognize my surroundings.Ĭolorful boats rest lazily in calm, still waters. That one continuous, linear piece of land can house such diversity in landscape and culture. What I love about the beaches is also what I love about the towns. These are easily the most beautiful beaches I have ever seen… but that’s not why I love them. Land crabs scurry into their holes as flocks of birds skim the water’s surface before making their ascent. The ocean sparkles in its turquoise glory, interrupted by the cerulean striations of the underwater coral reef. White sand stretches for miles backed with trees bearing coconuts, almonds, and sea grapes. Since arriving in Costa Rica, I spend every day basking in the warmth of the sun, often lying on the shoreline, my bikini bottoms filling with sand with each crash. No one takes the beach more seriously than this sun worshipper. This post brought to you by Camille, my one and only traveling companion.
0 kommentar(er)
