Pura Vida in Costa Rica

Crossing into Costa Rica felt like stepping into a greener, wetter, somehow even more enthusiastic version of Central America. My trip started in the south on the Osa Peninsula, home to the legendary Corcovado National Park. Corcovado is often called one of the most biodiverse places on Earth, and it lives up to its reputation instantly: warning signs for crocodiles, troops of spider monkeys in the canopy, yellow black toucans sitting above, and coatis rustling through the undergrowth as if they own the place. Hiking there feels less like entering a national park and more like entering nature on its own terms. 

 

 

From Sierpe to Corcovado 

 

Getting there was an adventure in itself: negotiating the taxi fare from Palmar Norte to Sierpe, eating lunch and waiting for the 4 pm boat, cruising through the mangrove river until the open sea, crossing over the rough sea felt like a roller coaster ride. And then the captain announced: “Get ready - this is a wet landing” - basically, it meant no pier or jetty. You jump from the boat with your luggage into the shallow water and walk ashore. Luckily, the tent camp I booked was stop #3 and I had some time to get ready, take off the sneakers, and pack everything in waterproof bags. At the shore, someone from the camp picked me up, helped me with the luggage and showed me up the hill to my bungalow.  

 

 

Toucan 

 

The next day, I took a boat with a group of Spanish and our guide to the Corcovado National Park- on the 60-90 min ride we came across two turtles in a slow reproductive embrace and a pod of dolphins. 

Arrived, we changed from water shoes to hiking shoes, got our backpacks checked by the park service and filled our bottles with water. Then we followed our guide Freier into the rain forest and looked for the wildlife: very fast we saw small wild pigs, then birds with his telescope but other animals were hiding. 

 

 

We took another trail from the starting point and soon passed by a crashed airplane. A brown furry ball jumped over the wings running for life, although we could not see any predator. We stayed and observed, after some time one in our group signalled that there was a snake. And we got a front row seat to a boa constrictor slowly crawling into the tail of the airplane and then action and noise when the boa got the rodent. Pura vida. 

 

 

Crashed airplane - with boa constrictor action 

 

Later, we also saw spider monkeys, Jesus Christ iguanas and other animals before we had lunch at the Ranger station. Then we returned back to the shore for our boat and saw humpback whales on the way back. 

Ranger Station 

 

Pura Vida – more than a slogan

It didn’t take long to understand Pura Vida, Costa Rica’s unofficial national motto. It’s used for everything—hello, goodbye, thank you, no worries, life is good, shit happens. But more than a phrase, it’s an attitude: unhurried, warm, slightly mischievous, always ready for a smile. I heard it from guides deep in the rainforest, from café owners serving drinks, and from strangers along the way. Pura Vida isn’t something Costa Ricans say; it’s something they live—and it’s impossible not to absorb a little of it along the way.

 

Bus stop in the rain

 

After days of mud, humidity, and wildlife, I swapped jungle boots for slightly cleaner shoes and headed to San José for the AIESEC Alumni Leadership Summit. It was a sharp contrast: conference rooms instead of palm trees, name tags instead of binoculars, and conversations about leadership, impact, and global networks. A fun pause from solo travel and a chance to reconnect with AIESECers from IberoAmerica. Sunday afternoon, I picked up my rental car - a very large Chinese car from VGV/CNHTC. To make use of the seven seats, I loaded it up with Mexicans and Peruvians and we drove to a Steak House for dinner.

 

 

 German stand at the Global Village 

 

 

National Theatre in San José 

 

From the city, I looped north to the Chachagua Rainforest Hotel near La Fortuna. It's the sort of place where mornings begin with howler monkeys acting as your alarm clock. I visited the La Fortuna Waterfall, descending the many, many steps to reach the pool beneath it. The power of the falls is impressive—thundering water surrounded by dense green. On the way back up, I convinced myself the climb counted as my workout for the week. 

 

   

My bungalow

 

      

 

La Fortuna Waterfall 

 Sloth/ Perezoso/ Faultier

 

One highlight at Chachagua was a cacao and chocolate workshop. My guide led me through the rainforest to the cacao farm and walked me through the entire process step by step. We opened fresh cacao pods, tasted the surprisingly fruity pulp, learned how the beans are fermented and dried, then roasted and ground them by hand. The final stage was the best one: mixing, tempering, and pouring the chocolate myself. I ended the session proudly holding my own handmade chocolate pralines—slightly uneven, deeply satisfying, and more durable than the sweet bars from the supermarket shelf.

 

 

Cacao Workshop

 

 

Arenal Volcano 

 

The road then took me west toward the Nicoya Peninsula, passing views of the perfectly conical Arenal Volcano and making a completely non-negotiable stop at a German bakery—proof that good bread will find you anywhere in the world. From Paquera (Playa Organos) I joined a day trip out to Isla Tortuga, famous for postcard beaches and snorkelling. Underwater visibility wasn’t perfect, but I still spotted colourful reef fish weaving through volcanic rock formations. On land, there were iguanas sunning themselves as if posing for brochures and deer.

 

 

 

Bungalow with outdoor bathroom

 

 

Sunset view

 

 

On the way to Isla Tortuga

 

To continue my loop, I took the ferry to Puntarenas, while waiting I bought a cutting board made from the Guanacuaste tree (local) that is also on the 1,000 colon bill note. The crossing was relaxed in the bow of the ship with pelicans gliding alongside the boat and families eating ice cream on deck, while a relaxed crossing . It felt like a small, slow moment in a fast-paced itinerary.

 

Pool position on the ferry

 

My final days were spent near Manuel Antonio, staying at a mountaintop hotel with a balcony view that stretched all the way to the Pacific. Manuel Antonio’s trails delivered the full wildlife bingo: sloths (both two- and three-toed), white-faced capuchins, agoutis, basilisks, and even a few cheeky raccoons searching backpacks for snacks. The beaches inside the park were some of the most beautiful I’ve seen—soft sand framed by jungle that practically leans into the ocean.

 

 

 

    

 

  

smallest snake 

 

One detail worth mentioning: for the entire last week, I drove the VGV/CNHTC. Bigger than anything I would ever choose at home, but surprisingly comfortable on Costa Rica’s mountain roads and unbothered by potholes and gravel. It became my mobile base—sometimes slightly too wide for village parking lots, always ready for another curve.

 

 

 

Costa Rica was a mix of jungle, waterfalls, oceans, conferences, coffee, and chance wildlife encounters. A country that somehow balances wild nature with friendly chaos and makes it all feel effortless. A place I’d happily loop around again—preferably with a slightly smaller car.

How to cross the border from Panama to Costa Rica?

As for every trip, I had checked the website of the German foreign office to get information on Panama and Costa Rica. Write ups for both countries emphasised the importance of getting the exit stamp from Panama and the entry stamp from Costa Rica. So I searched and found two travel blogs explaining the process including photos for every step. So I felt ready to do it and let's be honest that's not my first border crossing by road.

Two years ago, I traveled by bus from Croatia to Bosnia-Herzegovina. We stopped at the Croatian side, got out of the bus, lined up, got our passports checked (and stamped). Boarded the bus, drove across the border, stopped on Bosnian side, got out of the bus, lined up, got our passports checked and stamped. And officially entered Bosnia-Herzegovina. 

Back to Panama, I arrived by Uber at the border in Paso Canoas. I found the building from the first steps of the blogs. I found the customs office and Panama Entry but not Panama Exit. The lady at the entry desk told me the exit is 5 km away. My answer: that does not seem logic. 

Step 1: Exit Panama (that was the theory)

Outside of the building several taxi driver offered me their services to the 5km away location including return trip for 15 USD. I was like I want to go to Costa Rica, not come back. I agreed with one driver to take me to the border center for 6 USD. When we reached there, he again made the 15 USD offer and I declined. 

This very new Centro de Control Integrado is a  shared building for Panama and Costa Rica, where you exit one country and enter the next in a single flow. I entered, I was the only foreigner there and got a Malaria test done - apparently they only had 4 cases in all of 2024 - so the chance of them calling you are pretty low. Then I went to the first row of desks and got my exit stamp for Panama. At the second row, I got my entry stamp for Costa Rica after answering some questions and providing my flight ticket to leave the country in two weeks. Last was the customs check. All in all, I was done in 10 min or less.

Aerial view of the new border center

The security guard at the other end of the building opened the door and asked me where my taxi is. I said I did not have one, so he showed me the way over the foot bridge to the main road. I had hoped there would be some Costa Rican taxis or that I could book an Uber to pick me up. Good idea but with no connection in the no man's land between the two countries, I was kind of stranded.

The exit to Costa Rica

So I rolled my suitcase (about 25 kg) along side the road (Panamericana) for 2.5 km to the next local bus stop. Luckily, it was around 9:30 in the morning, the road was busy but not so busy that they would run me over. At the bus stop (without any schedule), two elderly ladies were already sitting and waiting and told me the bus would come in 10-15 min. When it arrived, I paid my 1 USD fare as I did not yet come across an ATM.

I'm walking - down the street - I'm walking

Not my bus stop but a similar one

So what did I learn - I can be stubborn. There is probably a deal between the taxi drivers and the border center and the bus company. Otherwise, why did no-one created a new bus stop at the center when they opened it. Make sure to take water on your adventures - I drained one or two bottles on my walk. 

If you want to skip the walk, pay the 15 USD, go back to Paso Canoas and take the long distance/ regional or local bus that crosses the border to Costa Rica (but does not stop at the border center).

I definitely have another great story for my travelogue.

Panama: Tigerente, canal and hat

Ever since I first heard the story of “Oh, wie schön ist Panama” (Oh, how beautiful is Panama) as a child, Panama had a certain magic to it—the promise of adventure, discovery, and, of course, the legendary Tigerente. Arriving here felt a bit like stepping into that book, only with fewer talking animals and far more humidity.

Book cover (from Amazon)

And yes, the famous Panama hat that shows up on every postcard? It’s not actually from Panama at all—it’s originally Ecuadorian. But it became world-famous when canal workers, travellers, and even Theodore Roosevelt wore it here. Panama didn’t invent the hat, but it gave it its global stage. I got my Panama hat as earrings.

More than just a Panama hat

I squeezed a lot of Panama into a few days. It started with a long and beautiful day trip to the San Blas Islands, booked via GetYourGuide. After an early pickup and a winding drive through the hills, we switched to a small boat in Cartí and spent the day hopping between white-sand islands and clear turquoise water. 

Stop in the hills to the port

a boat like ours

By our vote, the first island we stopped to take on two passengers would have been our island of choice. Our real first where we got off the boat was nice and enjoyed the water. The next stop was in shallow blue water with white sand. Lunch and final (party) island did not convince us: crowded and surrounded by trash fields. Lunch was simple and fresh, and the company was great—including two American ladies I’d later meet again.

Island One

Stop 2: shallow waters

Stop 3: Lunch

Stop 4: the Party island

The next day I joined a six-hour tour to and partly through the Panama Canal. Gliding past giant container ships in the locks felt strangely calm—slow engineering in motion. The real scale hits only when you float right beside these steel giants: the canal moves roughly 5% of global trade, links more than 160 shipping routes, and still stands as one of the most ambitious engineering projects ever completed. Built by the United States after a disastrous French attempt, it opened in 1914 and instantly changed world logistics by cutting the Atlantic–Pacific journey by more than 13,000 km.

The Pacific Queen in the Miraflores lock (I'm on the ship)

We are followed in by this cargo ship which is hold in position by electric locomotives on the left and right.

Cargo ship

Miraflores lock and the Panama flag (to be seen everywhere)

The water is on level and the gates open.

With two ladies in Panama costume

After the cruise I headed to the Panama Canal Museum in the center. Halfway through the exhibits, the skies opened and a heavy tropical downpour trapped everyone inside. When the rain finally eased, the museum exit turned into my unofficial entry point into Casco Viejo.

Cathedral from outside

and from inside

I had arranged to meet the two Americans from San Blas for dinner, and we spent a relaxed evening catching up over good food and cold drinks. After saying our goodbyes, I let the warm night guide me through the narrow streets. Casco Viejo after dark has its own atmosphere: glowing balconies, quiet alleys, soft music in the distance, and souvenir shops filled with molas, masks, and canal miniatures. I wandered without hurry, simply enjoying the mood.

My dinner companions

Casco Viejo

The next day I caught a bus west to David. Bus travel in Panama is nothing like Europe: instead of quiet corridors and scheduled service stops, a rotating cast of vendors hops on and off selling empanadas, drinks, phone chargers—and occasionally even beauty products. The ride was long but entertaining, a moving snapshot of everyday life. I arrived by evening and spent a calm, uneventful night in the city.

My bus to David

Panama ended as it began—smoothly, unexpectedly, and full of small moments. Islands, rainstorms, history, Tigerente nostalgia, and long rides through green countryside. A short visit, but definitely a beautiful one. The real fun started with trying to get my exit stamp - stay tuned for the next post on the border crossing to Costa Rica.

Driving over the Panama Canal using the Bridge of the Americas