Quepos, Costa Rica

My first impression of Quepos as our bus bumbled in from San Jose was that it looked like a tiny surf town. The main road leading into Quepos runs parallel to a small bay, enclosed by a greened jetty that curls around it like a claw. The claw slowly dissolves from the greens of the palms, big-leafed trees, ferns and other jungle-y fauna, into a narrow strip of ankle-high grass, down to a brown-grey sand beach - always wet from the constant lapping of the mild waves - and finally into a sand bar that hides under the high tide. At low tide it barely leaves a single lane of water between itself and the jagged rocks of the breakwater, and small fishing boats can just about enter and exit the bay. After turning off the main road toward the bus station, you'll be presented with a scene of surf and beach apparel shops lining the street beside kitchy-named bars like Wacky Wanda's, and folks stroll along the sunny sidewalks in board shorts, flip flops, and sunglasses.

The main entrance into town

In January and February, it's pretty much like this every day

I'm now left to assume that this first impression is presented by design, targeting the arrivals of American tourists and intended to give them a feeling of familiarity. If you stay at the Best Western in Quepos, and do your eating and drinking at Wacky Wanda's, and do your beaching at the nearby Manuel Antonio beach, you will likely leave with the same impression of Quepos that you gathered when you first arrived.

Fortunately I've been afforded the advantage of rooming with a host family, being on a tight budget, and having ample time to unravel some of the small town's intricacies. Hopping between the fruterias, bakeries and super-markets, hunting for the best prices for staple lunch foods, I found the real Quepos living behind the facade of a modern surf town - young moms shopping at fabric stores for a roll of whatever is to become her child's next shirt or pillowcase, an amateur soccer game played at a field lined with families supporting (it doesn't occur to people here to have a field without ample seating for proper support), a young boy throwing rocks at an iguana recharging on a sunny rock and a mom snapping at him to knock it off, A three-toed sloth napping in a tree at the park, a middle-school marching band loading their drums into the back of a van clad in gleaming white and green sequinned vests and pants, families idling on a hot afternoon picnicking at the park. As I spend more and more time meandering around Quepos, I am pleased to have the cook at my regular Soda recognise me and my order. And I feel like a townie when I see Johnny the surf instructor in the streets and greet him, asking him when our next soccer match is. After just a few weeks I feel welcomed and have assimilated, at least shin-deep, into the community.

A lazy local, napping in the afternoon heat

If you're planning a trip to the Pacific side of Costa Rica, I'd say Quepos should at least make your short list of places to stop. It's by no means a backpacker's paradise, but by Costa Rican standards it's pretty affordable, and it's a safe town. It's also a great portal into one of the most visited parks and beaches in Costa Rica, Manuel Antonio (which we'll have a post about soon!). A few notable attractions in Quepos are La Fèria, the farmer's market which occurs on the waterfront on Fridays and Saturdays, and a Carnivale celebration in mid-February to March. The Wide Mouth Frog Hostel is your best bet for accommodations in Quepos proper, but there are several on the 6km stretch of road between Quepos and Manuel Antonio as well.

Some of the produce available at La Fèria