Arrival in Paradise – Playa Panamá

I step off the plane in Liberia and into the golden warmth of Guanacaste’s dry season. Within an hour, I’m turning down a dusty road to Casa Conde Beach Front Hotel on Playa Panamá. The scene feels like a postcard come to life: palm trees swaying over a tranquil bay, scarlet macaws squawking overhead, and the late afternoon sun painting the sky in tangerine hues. As a seasoned diver and travel company owner, I’ve been to countless tropical paradises, yet something in the air here immediately soothes the soul. Locals call it the pura vida vibe – that pure life feeling – and it greets me with a gentle, welcoming embrace.

At check-in, I’m handed a fruity welcome drink and a warm “¡Bienvenido!” from the staff. The hospitality in Costa Rica is instantly apparent; everyone’s smiling, genuinely happy to share their slice of paradise. My room opens right onto the beach. Within minutes, I’m barefoot in the sand, the Papagayo Gulf lapping at my feet. The water is bathtub-warm and calm, perfect for a sunset swim. As darkness falls, I rinse off the salt and sit on my porch listening to distant howler monkeys in the hills. Tomorrow, the real adventure begins beneath these waters, but tonight I fall asleep to the sound of gentle waves and the faint melody of cicadas – utterly at peace.

Beneath the Waves – Diving the Gulf of Papagayo

Dawn breaks with a chorus of birds. Bright blue magpie-jays flit between hibiscus bushes as I gear up for my first day of diving. Over a quick breakfast of gallo pinto (Costa Rica’s beloved rice-and-beans staple) and strong coffee, I review my dive plan. My excitement builds knowing I’ll be exploring legendary sites in the Gulf of Papagayo: Monkey Head Rock, Virador, the Catalina Islands, and the Tortuga Wreck. These names have danced in my mind for weeks; now I finally get to descend into their waters.

The Monkey’s Head and Turning Point

Our dive boat departs from nearby Playas del Coco, cutting across Culebra Bay’s gentle morning chop. We’re a small group of experienced divers, swapping stories as the captain navigates to Monkey Head Rock. The rock formation juts out of the ocean, uncannily shaped like a gorilla’s profile – an amusing landmark and our first dive site. I backroll into the water, bubbles streaming past my mask, and descend along a mooring line into a green-blue world. The visibility is decent, around 40 feet, with sunlight filtering down in shafts. As we circle Monkey Head Rock underwater, I keep the wall on my left shoulder per local custom, finning through mild surge. The reef here isn’t the most pristine or colorful – mostly volcanic rock encrusted with patchy corals and sponges – but the marine life is abundantly exciting. Almost immediately, a squadron of spotted eagle rays glides by in formation, their wingtips flapping like birds in slow motion. I hover, mesmerized, as five, then six rays pass above us. Below, a white-tip reef shark peeks out from under a ledge, its tail swaying lazily. I’ve seen countless whitetips over my career, but it never gets old watching these sleek predators resting so serenely. We encounter a green sea turtle munching on algae, unperturbed by our presence, and a school of jacks shimmering in the current. Our dive master points out a well-camouflaged seahorse clinging to a sea fan – prime evidence of the rich macro life hidden in these waters. In one 50-minute dive, Papagayo has shown off rays, sharks, turtles, and tiny critters. I surface with a grin, already convinced of this gulf’s generosity.

After a short surface interval with fresh pineapple and a breeze to cool us, we drift a few hundred meters to our next site, Virador (aptly nicknamed “Turning Point”). This pinnacle is so close to Monkey Head that some divers pair them in one go. We drop in and ride a light current around Virador’s boulder-strewn reefs. Here the ocean floor drops to about 70 feet, and the water has a nutrient-rich haze. That nutrient soup is why the sea life is so plentiful – I remind myself of this as a thermocline chills my arms briefly. Rounding the pinnacle’s corner, I’m met by a wall of fish – a dense school of grunts and snapper so thick it momentarily blocks my view. I gently part the fish like a beaded curtain and continue along the reef, spotting moray eels poking their heads from crevices. A giant Pacific stingray lies on the sand below, half-covered in sediment. I make a slow descent to get a closer look and notice two frogfish perched on a sponge, nearly indistinguishable from the orange surface they mimic. It’s these small surprises that thrill the seasoned diver in me. Near the dive’s end, we hit a bit of surge and low visibility, but then – as if as a grand finale – a magnificent manta ray appears in the distance. Its wingspan is easily 12 feet across. The manta loops in for a curious pass above us, its shadow darkening the reef, then disappears into the blue. I can’t help but pump my fist underwater. Mantas aren’t common on every dive here, so this encounter feels like a blessing. Back on the boat, the captain laughs at my excitement as I recount the manta sighting. “Siempre hay sorpresas, amigo,” he says – there are always surprises.

The Catalina Islands Expedition

Mid-trip, I dedicate a day to the famous Catalina Islands, which lie farther offshore to the south. An early morning boat ride takes us skimming along the coast, past remote coves and cliffs, until the rocky silhouettes of the Catalinas rise on the horizon. As an experienced diver, I relish these longer trips – the anticipation, the salt spray on my face, the chance of big pelagics. The Catalinas are renowned for their giant manta ray encounters, especially when the plankton blooms. Today the swells are gentle, but the water has a bluish-green opacity that hints at nutrient richness. We gear up and roll in at a site called “La Punta.” The depth drops off quickly along a rocky wall. Almost immediately we’re greeted by a squadron of Devil rays (also known as mobula rays) doing backflips in the distance – a breathtaking underwater acrobatics show. As we continue, the current picks up, and we drift along the wall, spotting clusters of king angelfish and lurking reef sharks on the edge of visibility. Suddenly our divemaster’s tank banger rings out – he’s pointing excitedly into the blue. I turn just in time to see the unmistakable white belly of a giant manta cruising towards us. This creature is the size of a small car, utterly regal in the way it flies underwater. I’ve seen mantas in other parts of the world, but encountering one is always spiritual. We kneel on the rocky seabed at 60 feet as the manta circles us repeatedly, waltzing in the bubbles. It comes so close I can see the scars on its belly and the tiny cleaner fish hitching a ride. My heart is pounding with pure joy. For nearly five minutes, this gentle giant graces us with an intimate encounter before gliding off into the endless ocean. Back on the boat, the whole group is abuzz, even the veteran divers beaming like kids. Catalina Islands delivered exactly what we came for and more.

Our second dive at the Catalinas is a site called “The Wall,” named for its sheer vertical drop. We descend into a school of hundreds of yellowtail snapper swirling like a living tornado. Below, the wall is adorned with soft corals swaying in the current. I take my time peering into nooks: a pair of harlequin shrimp hidden under a ledge, a bright purple nudibranch inching along a rock, and an octopus tucked into an abandoned pipe, eyes peering back at me. Off in the blue, a massive school of cow-nosed rays suddenly appears, dozens strong, gliding in perfect formation. They pass by as silently as ghosts. The dive ends with a slow ascent among bubbles and the distant song of humpback whales (it’s migration season and, faintly, I catch their underwater chorus – a haunting, beautiful soundtrack as we do our safety stop). By the time we surface, I’m completely awed. Diving in Papagayo has proven to be both unpredictable and richly rewarding. The coral might not rival a South Pacific atoll in color, but the sheer abundance of life – from tiny critters to massive mantas – makes every dive here an adventure.

Wrecks and Whitetips at Tortuga

Back near the Gulf of Papagayo, another memorable dive was at the Tortuga Wreck. This site, named after a turtle-shaped islet above and a small sunken wreck below, sits in fairly shallow water (around 60 feet at the sand). We drop in on an afternoon dive, the sun high and water a bit warmer. As we descend, the outline of the little wreck appears – an old fishing boat now entirely claimed by the sea. It’s encrusted in hard coral and sponge, resembling a reef more than a vessel. Schools of pufferfish and sergeant majors hover around it, and a sizeable Pacific green moray eel has made a home in the collapsed hull. I shine my light into the shadowy interior of the wreck and spot the glint of eyes – a white-tip shark is using the wreck as a personal cave. I back away respectfully, giving the nocturnal hunter its space to snooze. Circling the wreck, I find a big school of grunts funneling around the bow and several scorpionfish camouflaged against rusty metal. In the sand nearby, garden eels sway like blades of grass. The site is calm and easy, a nice contrast to the more adrenaline-fueled dives of earlier days. During our safety stop, I float near the surface, face up, watching the sunbeams dance and thinking about how this Pacific reef, while rugged and raw, has its own special charm. It’s alive and thriving in its wild, nutrient-rich way.

By the end of my dive adventures in Papagayo, I’ve logged a catalog of incredible sightings: multiple species of rays, reef sharks on every dive, graceful turtles popping up here and there, octopus, eels, and vibrant macro life. I even got lucky with manta rays and heard whale songs echoing in the deep. For a veteran diver like me, who has seen the world’s marquee dive spots, Costa Rica’s Gulf of Papagayo holds its own – not with kaleidoscopic corals, but with an energy and richness of life that left me deeply impressed. It’s a place where you dive not knowing what marvel will emerge from the green abyss – only trusting that it will be spectacular.

Rainforest Thrills and Volcanic Relaxation – Hacienda Guachipelín

After several days of intense diving, I trade my fins for hiking boots and head inland for a day. Even the most avid diver needs an off-gassing day, and what better way than an adventure in the Costa Rican rainforest? I drive my rental 4×4 to the slopes of Rincón de la Vieja volcano, home of Hacienda Guachipelín, an eco-adventure ranch famed for adrenaline activities. The journey takes about an hour and a half from the coast, winding through Guanacaste’s savanna and into greener highlands. Along the way I pass small villages where children wave as I go by and cowboys (yes, real sabeneros) herd cattle on horseback. The landscape transforms from dry coastal shrub to lush greenery as I ascend. By the time I reach Guachipelín, I’m surrounded by dense tropical forest alive with the sounds of cicadas and birdcalls. A guide greets me with a grin and the ever-present “Pura vida!” handshake, gearing me up for the adventure combo of a lifetime.

First up is ziplining. Not just any zipline – this is a course that threads through a narrow river canyon. I clip in, heart pounding with anticipation despite having done ziplines many times. “¡Vamos!” the guide shouts, and off I go, soaring over the Rio Blanco canyon. I rush past cliffs draped in vines and cascading waterfalls. One line takes me directly through a misty spray – I’m briefly flying through a waterfall – and onto a platform high in a ginormous kapok tree. Adrenaline whooshes in my ears. Halfway through, there’s a surprise: a Tarzan swing that drops me suddenly and swings me out over the river. I let out an uncharacteristic whoop of pure exhilaration (perhaps louder than the 20-somethings in our group!). It’s been a while since a zipline gave me butterflies like this. The final cable is an ultra-long run where I Superman over the forest, spotting a family of howler monkeys perched in the canopy. They voice their approval (or jealousy) with a trademark guttural howl. By the end of the canopy tour, I’m equal parts pumped and breathless, grinning ear to ear with a newfound appreciation for Costa Rica’s inventive ways to experience nature.

Next, we trade harnesses for inner tubes and head to the Río Negro for white-water tubing. The sun is high now, filtering through the trees as we hop into the cool river. What starts as a lazy float quickly becomes a wild ride as the current grabs us. I find myself laughing like a kid as I bounce through rapids and spin in whirlpools. Our guide, floating ahead in a kayak, guides us through Class II-III rapids that are just the right mix of fun and safe. One minute I’m tranquil, drifting past verdant riverbanks where iguanas sun themselves on branches; the next I’m plunging down a chute of foaming white water, gripping the handles of my tube and whooping with joy. A few splashes to the face and maybe a bump or two on hidden rocks, but it’s all part of the thrill. By the time we reach the take-out point, I’m soaked, invigorated, and sporting a perma-smile.

A horseback ride is up next – a leisurely trot through Hacienda Guachipelín’s trails to reach the hot springs. My horse, a chestnut mare named Canela, is gentle and seems to know the route by heart. We meander through meadows dotted with bright orange heliconia flowers and under the shade of giant Guanacaste trees (Costa Rica’s national tree). Toucans croak from the canopy and I even spot a coati scurrying across the path. After the adrenaline of ziplining and tubing, this is a welcome, calming interlude. The cowboy leading us, dressed in traditional sabanero attire, points out a distant plume of steam rising from the volcano’s vents. The air smells faintly of sulfur and wet earth, a reminder of the geothermal wonders beneath us.

Our horses bring us to Las Hornillas hot springs by the river, where the next phase of relaxation begins. Here, nature has crafted the perfect spa: several steaming pools of volcanic hot spring water, each a different temperature, nestled in the forest beside a gurgling river. I ease into a pool that’s about body temperature, and immediately feel every muscle unknot – pure bliss for a body that’s been through deep dives and bouncing rapids. There’s also a bucket of smooth gray volcanic mud nearby. Following the lead of other visitors, I slather the mineral-rich mud on my arms, chest, and face. I must look ridiculous – like a swamp creature – but it’s oddly satisfying to coat oneself in mud, let it bake a bit, then wash it off to reveal tingly fresh skin beneath. After a thorough rinse, I soak in a hotter pool, watching blue morpho butterflies flutter by. Surrounded by rainforest, with the sounds of water and distant bird calls, I feel completely rejuvenated. The day has been a perfect balance of thrills and relaxation – and a vivid reminder that Costa Rica’s “rainforest to reef” tagline isn’t just marketing, it’s reality. In a single day I flew through jungle canyons, rode raging rivers, and basked in volcanic springs. All this, just a short hop from the dives I’d been doing in the Pacific. Few places in the world offer such diverse adventures in such proximity.

Embraced by the Pura Vida Lifestyle – People and Culture

Adventure aside, what truly makes Costa Rica shine is its people. Throughout my journey, I’m continually struck by the warmth and kindness of the Ticos (as Costa Ricans call themselves). For instance, one morning I took a wrong turn driving out of Playas del Coco, accidentally finding myself going the wrong way on a one-way street. In many countries, that’s a recipe for honks and frustration. Here, a local driver simply slowed down, gave me a friendly wave and an understanding smile, and motioned for me to turn around safely. No anger, no impatience – just pure friendliness to a confused foreigner. This small moment speaks volumes about the culture. Pura vida, a phrase I hear daily, is more than just a catchy slogan; it encapsulates the national ethos of positivity, patience, and enjoying life.

As a dive professional and traveler, I’ve learned that no matter how stunning a destination is, it’s the human connections that linger longest. In Costa Rica, I felt welcomed everywhere. The crew on the dive boat treated me like an old friend by the end of the first day, swapping jokes in a mix of English and Spanish and pointing out hidden gems in their hometowns. The staff at Casa Conde greeted me each afternoon with “¿Cómo le fue?” (How did it go?) genuinely curious about my dive adventures, and would share their own favorite spots to see wildlife or get a good meal. One evening, strolling down the small malecón in Playa Panamá, I came across a group of locals gathered around a guitar. They beckoned me over without hesitation. I spent an hour singing (or trying to) Spanish ballads with them under the stars, passing around a bottle of chilled guaro sour. Moments like this—unscripted, authentic interactions—are the heart of travel.

And then there’s the wildlife that seems as friendly as the people. At Casa Conde’s beachfront, I often shared my morning coffee with a confident white-throated magpie jay that would perch on the chair next to me, eyeing my pastry. In the trees above, families of howler monkeys provided a natural alarm clock at dawn, their calls echoing across the bay (a primal sound that, once you know what it is, becomes oddly comforting). Brilliant butterflies, from electric blue morphos to tiny yellow sulfurs, flitted through the gardens. Even the geckos in my room became welcome roommates, chirping at night as they patrolled for mosquitoes. The intertwining of human life and nature is seamless here – you feel a profound respect for animals everywhere you go. From national park protections to everyday people gently escorting a lost iguana off a road, the love for wildlife is part of the culture. It’s infectious, and as a nature lover, it made me feel right at home.

Savoring Costa Rica – Food & Nightlife in Guanacaste

No travel blog of mine would be complete without delving into local food – and oh, what a delightful surprise Costa Rica has been for my taste buds! Being on the coast, I was in seafood heaven. My absolute favorite, to the point of obsession, became the seafood soup at virtually every eatery I tried. Every coastal town in Guanacaste seems to have its version of a bubbling sopa de mariscos, and I made it a personal mission to sample as many as possible. Each bowl was a revelation. At a humble beachside shack in Playa Hermosa, I savored a home-style seafood soup loaded with tender octopus, succulent shrimp, clams, and chunks of white fish, all swimming in a rich broth infused with coconut milk, garlic, and cilantro. A squeeze of lime on top and I was in bliss. At Father Rooster Beachfront Bar & Grill in Ocotal, their take on seafood soup was equally spectacular – slightly tomato-based with a hint of achiote, brimming with fresh catch from that day. I sat at Father Rooster’s with my toes in the sand, a cold local Imperial beer in hand, and a hearty bowl in front of me, watching the sun dip into the Pacific. The combination of the fiery sunset, the waves kissing the shore, and the explosion of flavors from that soup is a memory I’ll carry forever. It wasn’t just a meal, it was an experience – the kind where you close your eyes after a spoonful and just live in that perfect moment.

Beyond soup, Guanacaste’s culinary scene offered plenty of other delights. I indulged in ceviche almost daily – nothing beats ultra-fresh fish “cooked” in lime juice with onions, peppers, and coriander on a hot day. Every place does it a bit differently: some add mango or pineapple for a sweet twist, others throw in a dash of chili for heat. It was all delicious. The traditional casado plates (rice, beans, plantains, salad, and a protein like fish or chicken) became my go-to lunch, giving me energy for afternoon dives. One memorable casado I had at Soda Mediterránea, a little family-run restaurant in Playas del Coco, featured grilled mahi-mahi with garlic, alongside the classic rice and beans and the best sweet plantains I’ve tasted – caramelized to perfection. The soda’s name might suggest foreign cuisine, but it was pure Tico flavor and hospitality: the owners chatted with me about the recipe (the secret to those plantains was adding a splash of orange juice while frying, they confided) and they made me feel like a part of their family for that meal.

For a change of pace, one night I visited Villa Italia in Coco, an Italian restaurant recommended by many expats. Walking in, I was greeted in cheerful Italian by the owners, who promptly seated me like a long-lost cousin. I treated myself to a plate of homemade seafood linguine – al dente pasta tossed with olive oil, garlic, cherry tomatoes, and generous chunks of lobster and shrimp. Paired with a glass of chilled white wine, it was fantastico. It might seem odd to have Italian in Costa Rica, but Villa Italia is a testament to how international the little town of Playas del Coco has become, and it was easily one of the best meals of my trip. That said, I returned to local cuisine the very next day – I just couldn’t stay away from the Tico flavors for long.

Evenings in Playas del Coco are pure delight. After days filled with diving and outdoor thrills, a bit of nightlife was a welcome change of energy. The town isn’t huge, but it’s lively and fun, especially on weekends. As dusk fell, I often found myself gravitating toward the main drag of Coco where music spills out from open-air bars and locals and tourists mingle in the street. Zi Lounge became a favorite spot – an open-air bar with a thatched roof, good cocktails, and a dance floor that heats up as the night goes on. One Friday night, I joined a crowd there swaying to a live reggae band. Under strands of fairy lights and with a mojito in hand, I felt any remaining stress I had melt away. A couple of doors down, Coconutz Bar offered a more laid-back vibe – a sports bar turned live music venue. I caught an acoustic guitar duo there one night, playing a mix of classic rock and Latin favorites. I grabbed a bar stool, ordered (what else?) an Imperial beer and some fish tacos, and ended up chatting with a mix of patrons: a group of visiting Canadian scuba divers, a local dive instructor I recognized from the shop, and a honeymooning couple from the States. We swapped dive stories and travel tips late into the night. It struck me how cosmopolitan yet quaint Coco is – you have Ticos, expats, backpackers, and dive nuts all thrown together in this cheerful beach town, celebrating the day’s adventures in unison.

Walking back to my car or hotel after a night out, the tropical air still warm and filled with the chirping of night insects, I always felt safe and content. The streets aren’t rowdy, just merry. On one occasion, I paused in the soccer field in town (Coco’s central park) where kids were still kicking a ball around under the streetlights at 11 PM, laughter echoing. Nearby, a vendor sold late-night churros and “copos” (a Tico snow cone) to passersby. I indulged in a churro, savoring the sweet cinnamon treat as I reflected on the day. Costa Rica had woven its spell around me – a blend of natural beauty, adventure, flavor, and friendship that encapsulates what we all chase in our travels.

Reflections on a Journey

On my last day, I return to Playa Panamá’s shore in the early morning, wading into the calm, glassy water for a final swim. Schools of tiny silvery fish ripple around my legs in the shallows. Pelicans dive bomb the bay for breakfast, and in the distance a pod of dolphins surfaces, their dorsal fins slicing through the water – as if coming to bid me farewell. I float on my back, looking up at the cloudless sky, and let the experiences of the past week wash over me. So much packed into a short time: thrilling dives with manta rays and reef sharks, heart-pounding jungle adventures, quiet moments of connection with locals, and flavors that danced on my tongue. As a professional diver and tour operator, I travel often, but Costa Rica has left an imprint on me that feels deeply personal. There’s a saying here: “Costa Rica no se visita, se vive” – you don’t just visit Costa Rica, you live it. I understand that now. I lived fully here – from reef to rainforest, from adrenaline rush to pure relaxation, from sunrise swims to midnight street food, from the first “pura vida” greeting to the final “hasta luego” goodbye.

I know this won’t be my last time in this beautiful country. In fact, I’m already planning to bring a group of divers here next season, eager to share with them the magic I found. I leave Costa Rica with salty hair, sun-kissed skin, a full heart, and a simple phrase on my lips that says it all: ¡Pura vida! Until next time.

FAQ: Diving and Travel Tips for Costa Rica’s Papagayo Region

1. When is the best time to dive in the Papagayo Gulf area?
   The dry season (December to April) is generally the best time to dive Papagayo. During these months, you’ll enjoy calmer seas and often better visibility (sometimes 60-80 feet or more). The weather topside is sunny and dry, perfect for boat rides and beach time. That said, the rainy season (May to November) has its perks too – the water becomes nutrient-rich, which attracts big marine life (like manta rays and even whale sharks on rare occasions). Rainy season diving can be fantastic for wildlife, but expect visibility to be lower (with plankton comes plankton-eaters!) and occasional afternoon thunderstorms. In Papagayo, even the “rainy” months often have clear mornings with rain later in the day. Water temperatures vary from mid-70s °F (24°C) in cooler upwelling periods to mid-80s °F (29°C) in warmer months. If you have a specific wish to see certain animals: giant mantas are frequently spotted around the Catalina Islands mainly November through March, and bull sharks populate the Bat Islands in the Gulf of Papagayo particularly in the rainy season (May–Sept) when those more advanced sites are accessible. Bottom line: diving is possible year-round in Papagayo, but for the best combination of conditions and marine life, late November to April is ideal.
2. What marine life can I expect to see while diving in Papagayo?
   The Gulf of Papagayo is teeming with life. Common sightings include white-tip reef sharks (you’ll often find them snoozing under ledges during the day) and numerous rays – from eagle rays gracefully flying in formation, to southern stingrays and cow-nosed rays cruising the sandy bottoms. During the right season, the area is famous for giant manta ray encounters, especially at sites like the Catalina Islands. You can also expect to see sea turtles (mostly Pacific green and hawksbill turtles) on many dives, often gliding by or feeding on algae. There’s a lot for macro enthusiasts too: the rocky reefs hide seahorses, frogfish, nudibranchs, octopuses, and the occasional harlequin shrimp. Schools of tropical fish are everywhere – think clouds of grunts, snapper, jacks, angelfish, and damsels. Moray eels of various types (zebra, green, snowflake) peer from crevices. In certain times of year, lucky divers might spot humpback whales or dolphins from the boat (and hear whale songs underwater). And if you venture to the Bat Islands (seasonal), there’s the adrenaline rush of seeing bull sharks up close (for advanced divers). In summary, Papagayo offers a bit of everything: abundant “small stuff” plus thrilling big creature encounters, making each dive a surprise.
3. Any tips for the adventure activities at Hacienda Guachipelín (Rincón de la Vieja)?
   Absolutely – a day at Hacienda Guachipelín is a must-do if you want to mix adventure into your dive trip. Here are some tips to make the most of it:
   • Plan a full day: The adventure combo (ziplining, horseback riding, river tubing, and hot springs) is a full-day affair. Start early (tours often begin around 8 AM) and expect to finish by late afternoon. The ranch offers a delicious lunch buffet for day-pass holders, so you’ll be well fed between activities.
   • What to wear/bring: Wear comfortable athletic clothes or swimwear that can get wet and dirty. For ziplining and tubing, quick-dry shorts and a t-shirt or rash guard work well. Secure closed-toe shoes or adventure sandals are required for ziplining and horseback (no flip-flops on the lines!). I wore old sneakers for ziplining and brought water shoes for tubing. Don’t forget sunscreen and insect repellent (though bugs weren’t too bad when I went). A hat and sunglasses are nice for the horseback ride. They provide lockers, so bring a small backpack with a change of dry clothes and a towel for after the hot springs.
   • Physical considerations: The activities are reasonably active but suitable for anyone in decent health. The zipline includes a couple of short hikes between lines and a optional “Tarzan swing” and rappel – if you’re afraid of heights, you can usually skip the scarier elements, but pushing your comfort zone is part of the fun! The river tubing is more of a thrill ride than a lazy float; you will get jostled. Guides are with you to ensure safety, but you should be comfortable swimming (life jackets are provided). Horseback riding is at a gentle pace – even beginners will be fine. If you have back or knee issues, the tubing might be the most jarring part.
   • Facilities and extras: Hacienda Guachipelín has bathrooms, changing rooms, and even showers you can use after the hot springs. The hot spring area itself is natural and rustic – multiple pools by a river. They’ll give you a scoop of volcanic mud to try a DIY spa treatment. It’s fun and leaves your skin feeling great! Bring a waterproof camera or GoPro if you want pics – the scenery (especially on the zipline course through the canyon) is spectacular. Lastly, hydrate and reapply sunscreen throughout the day – Guanacaste sun is strong, even if you don’t feel it in the cool river or breeze.
   • Getting there: From the Papagayo area (Playa Panamá/Coco/etc.), it’s about a 1.5-2 hour drive. Renting a car is the most flexible way to go (roads are paved most of the way, with a short bumpy stretch near the ranch – 4×4 is helpful but not strictly necessary in dry season). Alternatively, many tour companies offer day-trip packages with transportation included if you don’t want to drive. Either way, start early to enjoy a full day on the volcano!
4. How do I get around the Papagayo region and Playas del Coco?
   The Papagayo region is somewhat spread out, so your transportation options are important to consider. Here are a few tips:
   • Rental Car: Renting a car is a popular choice, especially if you plan to explore beyond your resort or do self-guided trips like I did. Liberia Airport has all the major car rental agencies. A car gives you freedom to visit different beaches, restaurants, and tours on your own schedule. Roads in this part of Costa Rica are generally good and well-paved between major points (Liberia, Coco, Hermosa, etc.), though some smaller roads to secluded beaches or attractions can be gravel. A 4×4 or SUV is nice to have for clearance, but if you’re mostly sticking to main routes in dry season, a sedan is fine. Driving is on the right side and pretty straightforward – just watch out for the occasional bicyclist, stray dog, or speed bump. Also note: fuel stations are not super frequent outside towns, so don’t let your tank get too low.
   • Taxis and Shuttles: If you prefer not to drive, taxis are readily available in towns like Playas del Coco and at resorts. They can be a bit pricey for longer distances, but for short hops (like from Playa Panamá to Coco for dinner, or around Coco/Hermosa beaches) they’re convenient. Always agree on a fare before you set off (or ensure the meter, “maría,” is running). Many hotels can call a taxi for you. There are also airport shuttles and private transfers which are great for getting to your hotel initially, especially if you arrive with dive gear and luggage. Shared shuttles or tour shuttles can take you to popular spots (like Arenal Volcano or Monteverde) if you’re extending travels.
   • Local Buses: Costa Rica has a network of public buses. From Playas del Coco, for example, you can catch buses to Liberia and other nearby towns. They are very cheap (just a dollar or two) but can be time-consuming and are designed for locals’ routes. If you’re adventurous and not on a tight schedule, it’s a cultural experience. However, buses won’t get you to remote dive shops or some adventure tours easily.
   • Golf Carts/ATVs: In Playas del Coco, I noticed a lot of tourists renting golf carts and ATVs to zip around town and between nearby beaches. This can be a fun way to get around locally (Coco, Playa Hermosa, Ocotal, etc.), especially if you don’t want a full car. Keep it slow and safe, though, and remember ATVs are considered vehicles (police will stop you if you drive them recklessly on main roads).
   • Walking & Biking: Within the towns like Coco or Hermosa, walking is very feasible – they’re not huge. Just mind the heat in midday and stay hydrated. Biking is also an option; some hotels lend bikes or there are rentals. Again, due to heat and hills, it’s better for shorter distances or early/late in the day.
   • Safety tips: Driving in Costa Rica is generally safe in this region, but avoid driving long distances at night if possible (wildlife or livestock can wander onto roads, and signage isn’t always great for first-timers in the dark). If you park in town, don’t leave valuables in the car – petty theft can happen. Use common sense, and you’ll be fine. Overall, whether by car or taxi, getting around Papagayo is pretty easy, and locals are very helpful if you need directions (even if language is a barrier, the friendliness overcomes it).
5. What food and drink highlights should I try in Guanacaste (Papagayo area)?
   You’re in for a treat – the food in Costa Rica is simple, fresh, and delicious, with some unique regional highlights in Guanacaste. Here are my top recommendations:
   • Seafood Soup (Sopa de Mariscos): I have to start with this because it became my personal favorite. Nearly every coastal restaurant has a version of seafood soup or stew. It’s usually a hearty mix of whatever is fresh – think fish fillet chunks, squid rings, clams, mussels, shrimp, maybe even crab or octopus – all simmered in a savory broth. Some broths are tomato-based with peppers and herbs, others incorporate coconut milk for a Caribbean twist (especially if the cook has Caribbean roots). Squeeze some lime and add a dash of spicy chilero sauce, and enjoy with crackers or crusty bread. Don’t miss trying this dish at least once; it’s comfort in a bowl after a long dive day.
   • Casado: This is the traditional Costa Rican lunch plate. The word “casado” means “married,” referring to the marriage of flavors on the plate. A casado typically includes rice and beans, a portion of protein (grilled fish, chicken, pork chop, or beef), plaintains (sweet fried plantains are addictive), a salad (often tomato and cabbage slaw), and sometimes a bit of stew or cheese or even an egg. It’s a filling, affordable meal found at any local soda (mom-and-pop eatery). I had an amazing fish casado at Soda Mediterránea in Coco – highly recommended for an authentic meal.
   • Gallo Pinto: If you’re having breakfast at your hotel or a local diner, you’ll likely encounter gallo pinto. It’s the national breakfast dish – rice and beans from the night before, stir-fried together with onion, bell pepper, and the magic ingredient Salsa Lizano (a tangy sauce), often served with scrambled or fried eggs, a piece of cheese or sour cream, and corn tortillas. It’s a power breakfast that fuels you for adventures. I grew to love starting my day Tico-style with gallo pinto, some fresh tropical fruit (pineapple and papaya here are incredible), and of course, a cup of rich Costa Rican coffee.
   • Ceviche: Given the abundance of fresh fish, ceviche is a must-try. Ticos make a great ceviche – usually with sea bass (corvina) or mahi-mahi, plus diced onions, cilantro, peppers, and lots of lime juice. It’s typically served with crunchy tortilla chips or soda crackers. On a hot afternoon, a chilled ceviche and an Imperial beer were my go-to. Some places get creative with mixed seafood ceviche (adding shrimp, octopus) or even fruit like mango. Try a few versions during your stay. It’s a light, zesty treat.
   • Local Seafood & Fish: Beyond soup and ceviche, simply prepared fish is a highlight. Grilled mahi-mahi, seared tuna, or whole fried red snapper are common on menus. They often prepare fish with garlic (al ajillo) or with a buttery caper sauce, or the local favorite a la plancha (simply grilled with seasoning). I enjoyed a fantastic whole fried snapper at Father Rooster, eaten literally on the beach. Also, if you’re adventurous, try ceviche de piangua (made from mangrove cockles) or sopa de pescado (fish head soup) if you see them at local joints – very traditional.
   • International Options: The Papagayo area has a diverse food scene thanks to tourism. If you crave something different, there are options like Italian cuisine (e.g., Villa Italia’s pastas and wood-fired pizzas), Asian fusion (some sushi and Thai can be found in Coco), and even Indian or Middle Eastern (I spotted an Indian curry place in Coco, and a falafel spot). It’s nice to have these choices if you stay for a longer period, but definitely prioritize the local flavors first.
   • Drinks: Of the local beers, Imperial is the iconic Costa Rican lager – light and refreshing. Pilsen is another common beer, a bit stronger. Try Guaro as well – it’s a sugarcane liquor similar to a mild rum. The most famous cocktail with guaro is the Guaro Sour, made with guaro, lime juice, sugar, and ice – very tasty and deceptive (go easy, they’re strong!). Costa Rica also produces excellent coffee; I often had an afternoon iced coffee made from locally grown beans. If you like smoothies, every café or beach bar will blend seasonal fruit batidos – from pineapple to passion fruit to guanábana (soursop) – a delicious way to cool down.
   • Desserts and Snacks: Try tres leches cake (sponge cake soaked in three milks) for a sweet end to a meal, or flan de coco (coconut custard). Along the road, you might find vendors selling churchill or copo, a shaved ice treat layered with kola syrup, powdered milk, and condensed milk – very popular on a hot day. And don’t forget to snack on plantain chips with guacamole, a perfect post-dive munchie.

Overall, Guanacaste cuisine is hearty, fresh, and not too spicy (they put chilero on the side, so you control the heat). Whether you’re dining at a beachside grill like Father Rooster, a tiny soda in Coco, or your hotel’s restaurant, you’re bound to eat well. My advice: embrace the local spots as much as possible. Greet the owners, say “buen provecho” to fellow diners, and enjoy that genuine hospitality along with the flavors. Pura vida and bon appétit!