Costa Rica Arrival: Heredia

Next: Manuel Antonio National Park

Heredia

February 13

Emilie got to Costa Rica a week earlier than I did (Feb 6). She and our friend Ann had enrolled in a week-long Spanish language immersion class with Intercultural Universidad in Heredia, Costa Rica, just outside of the capital San Jose.

I arrived in Costa Rica, at the San Jose airport around 1 pm, as did our other friend Sue, though on different flights.

We met up at passport control, though it looked more like a cattle trough. The customs line was very, very long. It took us about an hour and twenty minutes to get through…it was pretty much a mad house. But really, no worse than any other busy passport control.

Once through, we were met by a driver that Emilie arranged for us through her language school.  Though only about 20 minutes from the airport, it took our driver about an hour to drive us to the school-owned apartments that Emilie and Ann were staying at in Heredia. Traffic was just insane. Sue and I finally met up with Emilie and Ann around 4:00 p.m.

Em, Ann, Sue, and I ventured out and about in Heredia before an eventual dinner somewhere. Heredia is not a tourist town. It is incredibly active, hectic, and as pedestrian-unfriendly as a city can possibly be. If not avoiding breaking a leg in the persistent, deep troughs that separate the narrow, broken sidewalks from the streets, we were avoiding being killed by the nonstop stream of cars and unruly motorbikes when crossing streets. In these tightly wound blocks of shops and people, crossing the streets is unfortunately a frequent thing.

It took a few wrong turns and an untrustworthy GPS but we finally found the maze-like Central Market. This large (it takes up a city block) indoor market of fresh produce, meat, fish, sundries, and desserts is bustling, packed with vendors, and colorful. Em and Ann had gotten fresh fruit here in the past week, but today we got ice cream. It was worth the effort to find for the eye candy, and for getting a sense of community with the locals.

We stopped at some points of interest within walking distance of the school, and around Central Park. First was the beautiful and visually dominating Iglesia de la Inmaculada, built between 1797-1806.

Then we stopped at El Fortin, a 50-foot high 19th century tower infamous for its backwards peepholes all along the exterior. The peepholes (maybe rifle holes) funnel in, instead of funneling out. Probably not a Nobel prize winner amongst those architects.  There are supposed to be great views of the city from atop the tower but it closed about 15 minutes before we got there, unfortunately.

After about an hour or so we grabbed a decent casual dinner at La Fortina. The windowless porch provided a nice atmosphere, as it was just great to be warm in February while eating outdoors. Some friends that Em and Ann made at school joined us for dinner.

After dinner we all headed back to the apartment for some lively conversation on the common patio. It had been a long day of travel so off to bed shortly thereafter.

February 14

The Drive to Manuel Antonio

The rest of this page is dedicated to the mis-adventures of the exhausting drive to Manuel Antonio. The reader may wish to be spared, and want to jump right to the next, more exciting post. Click here: Manuel Antonio National Park.

The four of us went for breakfast at Rosti (Costa Rica’s version of Denny’s) in Heredia near the Adobe car rental where we had a reservation to pick up an SUV at 11 AM.  The food was good and the server was very friendly…but we were the only ones in there.  It’s possible they weren’t even open yet, but they served us anyway.

We picked up the car and set out for the coastal town of Manuel Antonio, a drive that was supposed to take about 3–4 hours. It didn’t take long for that estimate to fall apart.

Getting out of the city was brutal—bumper-to-bumper traffic. But even after we escaped the urban chaos, the congestion didn’t let up. It was just traffic…then more traffic…then somehow even more traffic.

Then came the navigator error—mine. We veered off the main road and found ourselves winding down a serpentine backcountry route that felt like a step back in time. At one point we rolled through a busy little town center that looked like it could’ve been straight out of 1879 Deadwood. Not long after, the pavement disappeared altogether and we were crawling along a dusty dirt road that felt like it was leading us deep into the Costa Rican version of Appalachia. After about 30 minutes of this adventure, we collectively decided to cut our losses, turn around, and find our way back to the main road.

Back on track—briefly—we soon hit another standstill. This time it stretched endlessly along a two-lane country road. Eventually, we learned the cause: a fire up ahead. The delay dragged on so long that I reached a breaking point. With no other options, I stepped out of the car and relieved myself right there in traffic. Ann helpfully opened her back door to shield me from view—at least partially. Judging by the looks from nearby cars, I wasn’t the only one considering it.

As it turned out, the fire was near the famous Crocodile Bridge. Ironically, after all that, we didn’t even spot a single crocodile in the river below as we crossed. By this point, what should have been a 2.5-hour drive from Heredia had already stretched to 4.5 hours.

We pressed on, now tired, hungry, and desperate for a break. Thankfully, not long past the bridge, and near Jaco, we stumbled upon a place called Vikings Danish Bakery. After nearly five hours of stressful, stop-and-go driving, it felt like an oasis—especially for Emilie, who had been behind the wheel the whole time. The pastries were incredible, and the stop gave us just enough of a reset to keep going.

The next stretch of the drive finally gave us a glimpse of what we had been hoping for. As we passed through Jacó, the road opened up to sweeping ocean views—our first real reward of the day.

But the journey had one last surprise for us.

Just half a mile from our hotel near Manuel Antonio National Park, we hit yet another gridlock. The narrow road was completely overwhelmed with tourists heading from the beach, restaurants, and shops. Cars, buses, motorbikes—everything competing for space. To make matters worse, we had arrived right at sunset, peak time for beachgoers. That final half-mile took nearly an hour. I even left the car while in traffic to see if I could find the best way to proceed, if we ever moved again. No luck. We just had to wait it out.

In the end, what should have been a straightforward 3–4 hour drive turned into a 7-hour ordeal. By the time we finally reached the hotel, we were exhausted, hungry, and more than a little fried—but at least we had made it…and we maintained the proper perspective…we were at the beach in Costa Rica in February…life is good!

Next: Manuel Antonio National Park