And then, just over a week after staying in Costa Rica alone to stay put and slowly transition home, as I had written in my last post, “San José,” a switch flips inside of me. I break down and then leap in the completely opposite direction. I cry, realizing that I’m doing something that doesn’t make me in the least bit happy. I’m forcing myself to stay someplace because it’s what I thought I “should” be doing. It’s what I thought would encourage me to slow down and be more introspective. But the slow traveling lifestyle is just not who I am. It’s not me, and I was kidding myself in trying to be someone I wasn’t. And in realizing this I feel that heavy weight lift off my shoulders again, that same downward, sluggish force I remember bringing me down in Patagonia on Christmas Eve when I hadn’t yet made the decision to extend my travels from two months to more than six.
Now I feel that spark in me again, that energy I thought I had lost when I found myself solo-backpacking once more in the last stretch of my journey. I realized that it wasn’t that I was alone that was leaving me in this state; I had grown tired of Costa Rica, for whatever reason, and so I lost the passion for traveling in the country. I have accepted that I am going home, and yes I am feeling as ready as I can be to be going back. I even made it official last night – I bought the last of my one-way tickets, this time from Cancún, Mexico to New York.
However, contrary to what I “thought” I wanted or what was supposed to be “good” for me, until that day comes I’m going to continue to travel exactly as I want to. I will travel in a way that gives me happiness, strength, and brings me back to my intentions that I had created for myself before even leaving New York last winter.
I immediately chose Guatemala as my next destination. The only things that were keeping me in Costa Rica were some pre-booked flights and a deposit on a yoga retreat. It’s a travel lesson I keep revisiting and a habit I find hard to break: to remember to plan ahead as little as humanly possible. Things will change, your feelings about a place will change over time, and although some activities do require advanced booking, trust that they will become available to you if they are meant to.
Truthfully it is hard to lose money on those sorts of travel purchases, knowing that you won’t get any refund. But I actually feel completely okay with the things I had to give up. Normally I would be upset and it would be at the back of my mind for days, knowing I could have avoided wasting this money, but now I realize that money isn’t going to make me happy, whether I keep it, it’s stolen from me, or I willingly spend and lose it.
What will make me happy is visiting somewhere new and all the while not forcing myself to be someone I am not. For being authentically me. I like to go to new countries and cities and move about at a pace that doesn’t match with many backpackers, but I am happily packing my days with adventure, mixed with a few days here and there of downtime — and this is what I enjoy. I think that those prolonged days of relaxation that I am looking for should actually be in New York City, where I can practice slowing down in a place I know well. It’s my home, a place where I can settle into routine and learn to be at peace with a more settled lifestyle there. But for now, my ways of backpacking is just how I want them to be.
I don’t think I’ve ever made such a fast, yet completely clear and correct decision in my life. I was couchsurfing in Playa Chiquita, eight kilometers from Puerto Viejo de Talamanca, a laidback Afro-Caribbean beach town. My host lives in a beautiful jungle house where howler monkeys woke me at 4:30am with their morning wake up call, and white-faced capuchin monkeys were often seen playing in the trees just a few meters away. It was, for me, a peaceful and perfectly Caribbean last few days, complete with a capoeira class, daily healthy vegetarian food, and a twelve kilometer bike ride to the nearby beaches of Punta Uva, Manzanilla, and Cocles. But in the back of my mind I was stressed. I felt I had seen what I wanted to in just three days, but I had to stay another three nights so that I could catch a flight from the nearby city of Limon to Drake Bay, on the Osa Peninsula. From there, the plan was to scuba dive and explore Drake Bay. However, that was only a possibility as it’s currently low season and dives are not guaranteed. Then I planned to see yet another national park, which although I love, I was starting to get tired of, regardless of where I am in the world. And finally, a very remote five night yoga escape on a farm far south in Punta Banco.
But that never happened, because I found myself booking a flight to Guatemala, a country I had thought about visiting since someone had mentioned it to me in mid-April. And the flights were surprisingly inexpensive. I got myself on a bus in the morning to San José and got on a plane the following day.
Yes, I would be giving up seeing one of the “most biologically intense places on Earth” christened by National Geographic (the peninsula contains 2.5% of the entire biodiversity of the planet, living on a mere 0.00000085% of the earth’s total surface area). Yes, I wouldn’t go scuba diving in the second best place in the country (the best being off the shores of Cocos Island, a remote and protected area found 300 miles southwest of the mainland). But, I truly didn’t mind missing it. I knew I could always go back. After all, what’s the point in traveling if it’s merely to check something off a list? I surely have to take with me some enticing reasons to go back to Costa Rica later in life, and visiting the Osa Peninsula, and perhaps one day scuba diving at Cocos, are most certainly two of them.
I didn’t have a plan in Guatemala. I didn’t even know what there was to see there. But what I am learning to trust in every day that I travel is that things will figure themselves out, as they always have. And in the grander perspective of my life figuring itself out, I’d like to trust in the universe that in the end, everything will.
Note on photos below: I don’t have many great photos of Puerto Viejo, but I do have some pictures from the four days I spent in Manuel Antonio, on the pacific coast of Costa Rica. They’re shown here.