Costa Rica: Volume Three

Prior to Costa Rica, I'd never stayed at a "surf hotel." To be honest, I'm not really sure what makes something a surf hotel?! The availability of shitty rental surfboards and overpriced instruction? Or perhaps it's the ease of access and relatively consistent surf that makes a hotel within walking distance, a "surf hotel." Whatever the case, this would be my first and probably only experience in one of these establishments. Now, I'm not suggesting the hotel - which was more like a collection of two-story beach bungalows surrounded on all sides by tall palm trees and narrow walkways - was a bad place to stay. Quite the contrary. It was excellent. They kept our room clean, provided fresh towels when we wanted them, disposed of our poop covered toilet paper and even collected all of the empty beer cans and water bottles we accumulated each day. But what this establishment lacked, in my opinion, was authenticity. Catering to a crowd of kooks, there was little in the way of Costa Rican culture - replaced instead by overpriced alcoholic beverages, internet access and live music most nights. Sigh.


Overhead.

Rum & Soda.

Tropical Wax.

Lurking around Rena...

Attempt.

Sun's Up. Arm's Up.

Tourist Taxi.

Crushed Crab.

Kaya Sol.

Tres Cocos.

Things on Things.

Rapist.

Stand Alone.

Dirty Dirt Bike.

Reading Room.

That'd be a bird...

Pirate Parrot.

Bright Light.

MCM Revival.

Yoga Trail.

WTF kinda Kia is that?!

Camera Courier.

Citadel.

Beached Bing.

The other side of the stream...

Click here to read all of our Costa Rica reports.

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