*Take a journey back in time with me, eh? It’s about time I get around to telling tall tales of my travels of yore…join me on this series where I’ll be covering travels from years ago when blogging was but a tiny speck in my mind, and I chronicled my adventures on paper. So archaic.

My first trip to Costa Rica was totes Amateur-ville. This was back in 2005, when I was just a young and spritely little lady. The original vacay was supposed to take place in India, with a friend of mine who lived in Florida and was going with her extremely possessive and bipolar boyfriend. I was invited along, and who doesn’t want to go to India on those circumstances?

Needless to say, after all my diligent planning, the trip fell through. I was lamenting my plight to a friend at a bar, complaining about the disappointment of it not working out and the time I had already taken off, when she said that she would go somewhere with me. Why had I not just assumed to take a trip regardless? Why was I so dependent on my friend’s schedule? Told you. Amateur-ville.

Within about 10 seconds, we decided on Costa Rica and she was going to let me plan the 8-day trip. I shrieked with delight. Little did I know that when planning a blitzkrieg tour of a country, you rarely stick to your plans.

I bought my Lonely Planet guide and set about making rezzies at the respective hostels and B&B’s that appealed to me. And packed my suitcase. Suitcase, people! I still shake my head and laugh at the visions of us dragging our suitcases along these muddy, gravely roads to get from point A to B, while the backpackers hopped merrily along, never getting their bags dirty. We must have looked so silly, but no one made us feel that way 🙂

cabinas, not hostels

NEVER believe the “hot water” bit. All lies.

ah, the classic "hands on hips" pose

Anywho, our first night: San Jose, then on to Arenal for a little volcano and hot spring action… Pura Vida!