Here we go again. Before I write a new travel update, I always read the previous one first, and it’s funny how everything already feels like ages ago. Even what I’m about to write now is barely a month old, yet it already feels much further away. That’s what happens when no two days look the same in your life anymore, well lots of memories. Let’s see how fresh they still are in my mind. Here we go!
A month ago I was in Popoyo, thankfully not the name of a local clown but of a surf town in Nicaragua. As we already agreed, I don’t surf, so I stuck to my signature trick of juggling a football on the beach. I usually start alone and then someone joins in. This time it wasn’t a person but the hostel dog, who had far more energy than I did. He absolutely loved it whenever I tried to dribble away—tried being the keyword, because he caught up with me in no time. He’d cut me off, spin around, and I had to flick the ball over him to keep it. I pulled out every trick I knew, but eventually I ran out of steam. He was sweet enough to let me use him as a pillow when I finally flopped down, so I made a new kind of friend that day.
Of course I did more than just juggle. Popoyo is famous for its “Popoyo Secret” party every Saturday. I went with Katrien and Loes, who you met in my previous update. It was a fun beach party—barefoot dancing in the sand, good times. Plenty of people showed up though, so I wondered how secret the party really was. Definitely not well-kept. Our hostel also organized a beach tennis tournament, and naturally I signed up. Tessa and I teamed up, tried to channel our inner Nadal and Venus Williams—it didn’t matter which Williams—but got knocked out in the first round. In our defense, we played against a duo who compete every week, so we didn’t stand much of a chance. They did get nervous when we started catching up, which led to a few questionable calls on our shots…
Next stop, Costa Rica. Its name literally means “Rich Coast,” though after a few weeks there I’d say it really stands for “Rich Costs” because it’s not cheap. My first impression wasn’t the best, mainly because Costa Rica is set up more for vacationers than backpackers. But look past that, and it may be the most beautiful country I’ve visited so far on this trip. It’s incredibly rich in nature. To give you an idea: 5% of all known species live here, even though Costa Rica covers only 0,03% of the earth’s surface. And with a rare species like me arriving, they could add one more.
I started in La Fortuna—literally “The Luck”—still traveling with Tessa at the time. We kicked things off with a sloth tour. I’m not sure if it’s Costa Rica’s official animal, but it sure felt that way. Lucky for us we spotted seven sloths, including one special individual. They look so peaceful with that permanent smile, just hanging around. In Dutch we call them “lazy beings” and I totally get why. That day we also realized rainy season had arrived because the skies opened up despite all our manifestations. And guess who discovered he’d lost his rain jacket? Yours truly—perfect welcome to the wet season.
We soaked in natural hot springs, and I visited a park with hanging bridges. I took an Uber there, which is surprisingly illegal in Costa Rica. You can still order an Uber but you have to sit up front so it doesn’t look like an Uber—always makes for interesting chats with drivers. My Spanish is holding up well. I’ve unlocked two new levels: translating for other backpackers and locals who switch to local Spanish instead of ‘Gringo Spanish’ when they notice I feel comfortable in Spanish. That second one is definitely trickier and will need more practice on my end. On top of that, I’ve got a go-to joke: when someone asks if I speak Spanish, I confidently say “Sí, claro.” As soon as they start in Spanish, I put on a confused face, say “¿Qué?” and then burst out laughing. So yeah, lots of laughs here.
Next was San Juan, the capital. For most backpackers it’s just a stopover—like how all roads in Europe lead to Rome, here they all seem to lead to San Juan. But for me it was the actual destination. Why, you ask? A football match, of course. Not just any game, though, but ‘La Gran Final’. Costa Rica decides its league champion with two legs, home and away. I had tickets for both matches, and both were in San Juan. You could feel the excitement in the city. The first leg was on the day I arrived, and another hostel mate was going too. So Jorge and I went together, which proved to be a great call. A huge fan march, fireworks, police escort—it was every football fan’s dream. The match ended 0-0, but the atmosphere more than made up for the lack of goals.
Time for the second match, the big decider. It was a few days later and farther away, so we took an Uber (don’t tell). After about an hour we arrived at the stadium and saw people walking the opposite way. We thought maybe they were grabbing food since kickoff was still an hour away. When we reached the entrance, the crowds were intense and we couldn’t find our gate. We asked a guy who told us we couldn’t get in because the stadium was full. Everything happened in Spanish, and I doubted whether I’d heard correctly. I asked someone else just to be sure, but we were out of luck.
Apparently Herediano, the home club, had sold thousands more tickets than the stadium’s 8,000-person capacity. That was a huge disappointment for us, and even worse for the die-hard fans who really wanted to be inside. One girl stood outside crying her eyes out. We already felt awkward having to cheer for Herediano, since we became supporters of Alajuelense during the first leg and even bought their shirt. From that moment on, Jorge and I adopted a common enemy: Herediano. I’ll keep the final result to myself. Things got tense outside too, and the police had to step in when supporters from both sides nearly clashed. A few stones were collected as weapons, but thankfully it all ended with a figurative whimper.
After that drama it was time to explore more of Costa Rica’s rich nature. My next two stops were on different coasts yet oddly similar: Manuel Antonio on the Pacific side and Puerto Viejo on the Caribbean. Both are seaside towns with a national park nearby, and both offer excellent wildlife spotting—sloths, reptiles, birds, raccoons, monkeys, you name it. I was most excited about the raccoons since I’d never seen any in the wild before. They reminded me of Swiper from Dora the Explorer (even if he’s technically a fox). One tried to swipe my backpack, but after loudly chanting “Swiper, no swiping,” he finally gave up. In Manuel Antonio we also spent a rainy hostel evening playing games and chatting with a small group of fellow travelers, which was super chill.
Then it was on to Panama, where protests were in full swing and locals had set up road blockades. To reach Bocas del Toro we had to disembark seven times, walk 200 meters each time, and board a new vehicle. All those detours added about ten extra hours to my journey in the whole of Panama, but patience is a virtue. From what I gathered, people were protesting poor mining conditions after the government decided to keep operating mines in the region. On top of that, mass layoffs at Chiquita had hit the local economy hard. I’d gladly give up ten hours if it helps improve working conditions. Imagine if we in the Netherlands still had to work in mines—the last one closed fifty years ago.
Next was Bocas del Toro itself, an island group that turned out to be a complete delight. I caught a party and visited Starfish Beach, where I discovered starfish definitely don’t live under rocks, unlike those documentaries from my childhood about sponges and starfishes. After that I headed inland to Boquete. That region is perfect for hiking, so Daniëlla, Simon and I tackled the El Pianista trail. It’s infamous because two Dutch girls went missing there in 2014 and were found dead months later. That sounds terrifying, but the trail itself is safe. They likely ventured beyond the endpoint and got lost in the jungle. Now there’s a small memorial cross with their names at the end, a sobering reminder to return when the path ends.
My penultimate stop in Panama was Santa Catalina. Daniëlla and I joined a snorkeling and island tour that was breathtaking. It poured rain on the boat ride there and soaked me through, but once we hit the water I hardly noticed—and it came with a nice photo of me. We saw two species of sharks, a bunch of turtles (my favorite) and countless fish and corals. Then I made my way to Panama City and passed the Panama Canal, which was amazing to see up close. I’ve spent the past few days in hermit-mode at a solo hotel room I booked, because I needed a social reset. For the next three weeks I won’t be traveling alone anymore. If you’ve followed my journey you can probably guess who’s joining me—only one person has ever visited me abroad before, so this is a little nudge to the rest of you 😉
And that brings us to now, writing this from Panama City airport. In about an hour I fly to Ecuador to meet Younes, who arrives a bit later. I’m really looking forward to it, so that’s what the next update will be about. Hope you enjoyed the read. Until next time, big hug! 😊
Bellissimo e interessante