I came to surf, but didn’t.
After finally shipping Invoicy, I felt that I wanted to get back closer to nature and the beach. I also felt an inner desire to do some surfing after a half-year break. That’s one of the nicest states you can be in - you know what you want and it’s reachable by hand.
So, given those feelings, my initial thought was to go to Playa Venao in Panama as it was recommended to me by another surfer based on criteria that I had. Honestly, looking at the pictures, that place looked amazing, so I started doing quick research and planning. However, once again after planning my trip for a bit, something didn’t feel right. I knew that I wanted to visit that place, but also knew that it’s not the time.
This left me with two other places that I had on my list for quite some time: Popoyo in Nicaragua and Santa Teresa in Costa Rica. Popoyo, in particular, was an interesting option as I had already passed on it one time in the past. That time, it didn’t feel right due to New Year’s. This time, it didn’t feel right due to WWDC. Once again, I rejected a place based on feelings. Fascinating.
Then, I looked at Santa Teresa and pretty quickly found a perfect place. In contrast to Popoyo, I could perfectly envision my time there. It was only pictures at that time, but somehow, it felt just the right place.
Surf
In regards to surfing, the situation was a bit paradoxical - I came for surfing but surfed only once. Why, you ask? Well, I could offer a bunch of excuses, but deep in my heart, I know the main reason was a really strong slap by reality.
After arriving, I sniffed out the common surf spots and started monitoring the wave conditions at Playa Carmen, which was closest to me. Having surfed on my own without any issues in Montañita, I felt confident enough. I wasn’t overly confident, since it had been half a year and I still bore a small scar from big waves in Costa Rica, but I felt confident enough to give it a proper shot when it was pumping.
Once I saw the prognosis for perfect waves on the weekend, there was no doubt this was the time. Indeed, the time it was. It was a time when I tried to paddle out past the breaking waves to the lineup for over half an hour. It was the time when I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so hopeless in the water.
After feeling like I’m about to die, I stopped and had a 10-minute break rethinking my surf life. It was kind of embarrassing. Embarrassing to be so out of breath. Embarrassing to paddle so inefficiently. Embarrassing to be so hopeless. Physically, I felt a weird warm and euphoric feeling going from my heart to my lower body. It’s hard to describe, but it’s one of those feelings where you feel like you are dying but at the same time, you feel very euphoric. I believe it was a sign of how bad my heart conditioning was at that time.
However, there was no way that I was going to leave that place without paddling out to the lineup. So after fully catching my breath, I gave it my last shot. My form and paddling probably looked clownish at best, but I truly didn’t give a single fuck. At that moment, the only thing I wanted to do was to prove to myself that I can do it. That warm feeling in the body and sense of dying probably reached its peak, but somehow, due to waves being more forgiving, I managed to get over the breakpoint.
What’s strange is that I didn’t feel any sense of accomplishment or joy. I guess why should I? I did a casual thing that I never thought would be so hard to do. As casual as the achievement felt, with the same casualty after a few waves, I was again out of the lineup.
However, this time I didn’t have the energy or fire in myself to go past the waves. I was defeated by waves and humbled like never before. My personality quickly split for a second and I was standing in a court against myself where I was told that it was great that this happened and I deserved every single second of it.
The only question was what am I going to do about it?
The plan for the next two weeks was simple - run everyday in the heat on top of the burning sand in order to improve my cardio. Apart from cutting my sole and getting blisters on my toes, it wasn’t actually that bad. I actually loved it because the beach stretch in the south part of Santa Teresa is just beautiful.
Then WWDC happened. I got stye. I moved places. With a week of my stay left, I still hadn’t surfed.
Now instead of looking for the perfect big wave day, I was looking for the perfect small wave day. At the end of the week, this finally became reality but somehow I still managed to find excuses that today is not the right day or that I should do it next day.
The last day before departure, I put on my sunscreen, rash guard, music, and was walking toward the beach to sniff out conditions before renting the board. The waves were very small, there were almost no surfers, and my very smart brain managed to convince itself that it’s not worth renting a board for this. Whether it was actually true or if my brain that was humbly slapped previously still hadn’t recovered is a question that I will leave up to you to answer.
Being as sneaky as it is, my brain required an answer that would make it feel a bit better: why a beach that was thrown so much as a very good spot for beginners was such a bad experience for me?
After some reading, I did find some information that could be helpful to others like me:
Expect to wait for the smaller days. Any of those spots at 3 ft+ are pretty challenging. At Carmen there’s really no channel. If your a beginner on a bigger board, and don’t have paddle fitness from surfing often - above 3 ft it’s really challenging to paddle out at Carmen.
Santa Teresa (by the lifeguard stand) at 3+ will sometimes have a rip that you can use to get out. Surprisingly I saw more beginners past the break in ST than Carmen or Hermosa on a 3-4 head high day. The wave has power and is steep/fast. From what I observed maybe 20% of the people in the water had the skills to ride that wave at all, and maybe 5% could shred it. And this was a relatively "small" size for the wave.
Tldr wait for the 2-3ft days and/or hire someone to show you the safe spots for beginners and you’ll be good.
For beginner surfers who want to go surfing in Santa Teresa, don’t take all of the above as discouragement. There are perfect white water waves if you just started. There are also times when waves are not extreme to paddle out. I noticed that trend specifically during the afternoon in Santa Teresa part.
Finally, your cardio, paddling, and other conditions are different from mine. And you know what? Even if you won’t surf that much, there are some other great things about Santa Teresa which brings me to...
Beach
So why did I stay so long in Santa Teresa and enjoy my trip even though I almost didn’t surf at all? Well, the answer is pretty simple - the beach.
It’s still not a beach I could call perfect, but damn, it’s pretty nice. It’s wide and long, and because of the palms and surrounding nature, it has a wild, untouched feel. Also, somewhat surprisingly, in most places, the concentration of people is not bad (well, except for sunsets).
Speaking of sunsets... They are very beautiful here. It feels especially magical when it’s a bit cloudy, and you can observe how it gets darker and darker until suddenly the sun passes below the clouds on the horizon, and then, you feel like it’s an early morning colored by brilliant orange hues.
As I mentioned previously, I loved running here. Yes, a few times I got blisters from the hot sand and a few splinters from twigs. Nevertheless, it was still one of the most pleasurable runs of my life (well, I’m not really a runner, so there is that). Also, since I was here during the rainy season, I can say that I actually enjoyed those rainy runs where the beach vibe is very different, and you truly feel like you are on a deserted island.
The only reasons holding this beach back from being perfect for me are the pieces of wood and debris that get brought in with storms and high tide, and the sand’s consistency and color. But it doesn’t matter because this beach has a different vibe, and I liked it. By far, my favorite place there was a small palm tree area close to The Bakery in Playa Carmen.
Forest
I happened to live in a few places during my stay in Santa Teresa. Both places were located pretty much in the Playa Carmen zone, but the main difference was that one of the stays was next to the beach while the other one was somewhat deeper in the forest.
It’s pretty funny how living in places that were so close to each other felt so different. A beach place unlocks those very spontaneous moments where you drop everything and go for a walk or a run to clear your mind. It also makes walks to admire the sunsets a no-brainer.
However, only after I moved to a place in the forest did I realize that I was missing out on Costa Rica’s nature that captivated me the first time I visited. Yes, next to the beach I had crabs, cockroaches, and geckos roaming my room, but it’s not the same as being surrounded by hummingbirds or hearing monkey noises.
Hummingbirds, in particular, have always been fascinating and interesting to me. I never thought I’d say this, but after two weeks, seeing a hummingbird became as casual as spotting a house sparrow back home. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still captivated by their incredible metabolism and flight skills, but it’s just intriguing how living in a different environment shifts your perception of certain things.
Apart from much less noise and fewer electricity outages, living in the forest deepened my appreciation for Costa Rica’s wilderness. Also, storms and lightning felt much more intense. Speaking of which, I can’t miss sharing one of the more embarrassing stories that I hope I will read again after decades, laughing at myself.
Darkness
I wake up in the middle of the night. It’s pitch black. I can’t see anything. I close my eyes and open them again. Still pitch black. I think maybe I’m still asleep. I stand up. Still black. I think it might be sleep paralysis, and I’m just imagining standing up, actually lying in bed with my eyes closed. My heart is already racing.
I fall to my knees. I realize I’m definitely not asleep. Still, I see nothing. I don’t understand what’s happening and start to think I might really have gone blind. Slowly, my brain starts waking up from sleep. Groping the walls, I try to make my way to my phone. Phone in hand. I see light. I start to calm down and fall back into bed.
I still can’t believe that without my phone, I can’t see anything. Not a speck of light. Absolute darkness as if I were in a room without windows. I see there’s no light coming from the air conditioner. Obviously, the power is out. My windows are closed with curtains. I try to open them out of curiosity. Still, I can barely see anything. Pressing close to the window, I finally see some light.
As far as I understand, because fog had formed on the windows, there was a storm, and the power went out, the room was in absolute pitch-black darkness.
My Take
When I first reached Santa Teresa, I thought I had arrived at another Tamarindo - a place marked by dusty roads, surfers, backpackers, free spirits, and tourists. While the dusty roads were confirmed the next day when I went to the grocery store, constantly wiping dust from my eyes, the moment I saw the beach, I knew it was nothing like Tamarindo.
I actively disliked Tamarindo beach (apart from the surfing), whereas the beach in Santa Teresa felt like I was thrown onto a perfect deserted island. It was a place where I could lay down with a podcast and forget everything around me, run in the rain and savor every moment, a place that transformed walking into appreciation for nature.
In general, Santa Teresa felt much less touristy than Tamarindo. At times, it seemed like a separate civilization, with its own WhatsApp market where you could buy anything from bikes without license plates to shaman medicine that cleanses your body of parasites, and even tickets to secret forest parties.
I’ve never been to Burning Man, but I believe that seeing people riding their bikes with a dog on their lap and a snorkeling mask gave me a glimpse of that vibe in Santa Teresa.
While I would probably never recommend Tamarindo to someone who isn’t into surfing, Santa Teresa is a different case. The general vibe in Santa Teresa is pretty mellow. I won’t forget the moment I talked with a local about riding a bike without a driving license and asked her if she wasn’t afraid of being stopped by the police. Her answer was: “Well, if they stop me, I’ll just take a bus home.” That response perfectly encapsulated the easygoing "pura vida" lifestyle I felt while staying there.
It’s by no means a special and perfect place (hello, dust and noisy transportation) but it has infrastructure (yes, electricity disappears, but I’ve been to much worse places), a lovely beach surrounded by nature, and waves for surfing. What else do you need?
Statement Rain
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— There’s a pretty cool open-air lifeguard gym in Santa Teresa. Although it’s a bit rusty in some parts (I’m looking at you, rusty bars that ruined my clothes), and on the more expensive side, it’s generally a nice place. Plus, you’re supporting their lifeguard program, which is especially cool if you surf. The gym also has quite a lot of equipment, particularly for a place like Santa Teresa.
— The sunsets and beach are beautiful. There’s no way around it. Go and enjoy them.
— If you avoid the late afternoon or strategically pick a time that aligns better with the tides, running on Santa Teresa beach is a very nice experience.
— While the beach is awesome, don’t forget how beautiful the nature in Costa Rica is. Walking a bit further toward the beach might not be that bad.
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— Dust, dust, and more dust. If you, like me, enjoy walking to places like the grocery store or gym, prepare to get some dust in your lovely eyes.
— It’s kind of on me, but when I lived closer to the main street, the ATVs and motorcycles became quite annoying due to their noise.
— Reaching Santa Teresa is a bit of a tiring journey, especially if you’re doing it after a flight. In fact, by the time I reached Santa Teresa, I was so tired that I accidentally checked into a room that belonged to someone else (one of the reasons why keylocks should probably be different for each room).
— The smell of trash near the bins on the main road is just sad. Generally, while traveling through South America, I hate the combination of hot, humid weather and trash containing almost everything imaginable.
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— Arriving and leaving Costa Rica is always interesting because, with so many American travelers, I feel like I’ve landed in the United States. Apart from the queues, I don’t mind it. Nevertheless, each time it makes me question where I am.
— If you’re planning to stay for a longer time, ask a local to invite you to the Santa Teresa Buy & Sell WhatsApp group. As I mentioned before, you can find almost anything in that group. I wouldn’t be surprised if one day someone starts selling a youth elixir there.
— It’s a bit funny, but I had never experienced living with crabs in my room before. Apparently, I wasn’t alone, as I heard the same from someone else who was living next to the beach. To be honest, I quickly got accustomed to them and really didn’t mind them (they are much preferable to cockroaches).
— It’s a bit anecdotal, but living in the forest, I seemed to lose electricity far less often.
— While staying in Santa Teresa, I believe I tried some of the most unique Coca-Colas I’ve ever had. One was in a 1-liter glass bottle covered with a plastic cap filled with honey-tasting cola. The other was some kind of promotional Korean Coca-Cola with one of the fanciest can designs I’ve witnessed.
— If you are deciding between Transporzuma and Interbus, I would suggest Interbus. While both are legit, Interbus seemed way more professional, and they have a location list that is sorted alphabetically. IMAGINE THAT TRANSPORZUMA.