Puntarenas, Costa Rica

At the end of May, the four of us flew to San Jose, Costa Rica.  We spent eight days on the Pacific coast.  The first four days, we stayed in a treehouse in the rainforest.  It was magical.  Waking up to the sounds of the forest, and being greeted by capuchin monkeys and red billed toucans on the deck.  In the mornings, we'd cook breakfast at the treehouse, and then head out for a day of exploring a nearby national park and laying by the sea.  The sun sets early in Costa Rica (about 6pm), so we ate an early dinner, before going back to the treehouse to drink a cup of hot tea and listen to the rain fall while Andreas and Lucía drifted to sleep next to each other.  I will never forget the way it felt to be in the middle of the rainforest, in that little treehouse.  Without air conditioning, without television, without any of the comforts of modern day life...and yet, I had absolutely everything in this world that I needed.   

On the fourth day, we traveled another six hours to a remote village on the tip of the Nicoya peninsula, Malpaís.  There is only one unpaved road into the village, and getting there was quite an adventure.  We were in a car for two hours, and then took a two hour ferry across the Golfo de Nicoya, and then it was another two hours to the village.  As we drove south on the unpaved roads, we saw a glimpse of the most simple and beautiful life; the life of the many farming and ranching families on the Nicoya. We weaved through winding roads and hills, across miles of breathtaking landscape.  Finally, we were on the only road into town, the bumpiest road imaginable.  After thirty minutes or so, we made it to Malpaís, the picturesque little village.  We spent the next three days cooking in our bungalow, eating mangos right from the tree, and laying by the ocean.  Andreas practiced his Spanish, and Lucía fell even deeper in love with avocados :)  We explored markets and cafés, and celebrated Lucía's second birthday with alfajores, cheesecake, and riding horses on the beach.

As we started the journey back to the airport, we passed countless tiny stucco houses with rows of clothesline out front.  Locals rode by on their bikes, with the biggest smiles.  and I was reminded of what truly matters in this life.   I was reminded that a full life is measured by moments, not things.  Moments like the ones we experienced that week.  Moments with the four of us, together.

I came back refreshed, and so incredibly grateful.