In 1995, my best friend Melissa and I met up with her older sister Brenda for a month long jaunt around Costa Rica. (We were 15, 16 and 21, respectively.) It was an incredible trip, and it awakened in me an unquenchable lust for travel.
We visited the small port town of Quepos, from which we took a bus down a narrow, winding, dirt road to the nearby national park, Manuel Antonio. There was hardly a tourist in sight.
We visited the tiny village of La Fortuna, located at the base of the Arenal Volcano. We paid a local a small fee to guide us into the jungle where we could bask in the natural volcanic hot springs.
We rented a room in a family’s home in the even tinier village of Santa Elena. From Santa Elena, we walked up a long, deserted, dirt track to the Monte Verde Rainforest national park. Again, few tourists were to be seen.
In 2002, Melissa, Brenda and I returned to Costa Rica to find that things had changed drastically in seven years.
Quepos had become a booming tourist town, full of hostels and hotels, hip cafes, pricey restaurants and souvenir shops. The road connecting Quepos to Manuel Antonio had been paved, and its entire distance lined with resorts, hotels, condos and restaurants.
Likewise, La Fortuna had become a bustling tourist community. The volcanic hot springs of Arenal were no longer isolated swimming holes in the wilderness; instead, the naturally heated waters were pumped onto the grounds of impressively manicured hot spring resorts.
Santa Elena, too, was booming, full of a wide assortment of places to stay, eat, and entertain. The paved road leading up to the rainforest was lined with condos and resorts, going all the way up to the park’s gate.
While the interiors of the parks were indeed pristine reservoirs of nature (and while I must say that the hot spring resorts of Arenal were FABULOUS), I found the encroachment of the modern world distressing. Then, in one of the last legs of our trip, we journeyed south into the all-but-untouched Osa Peninsula. We arrived by bus at the nondescript village of Palmar Norte, from which we took a makeshift taxi (er, pickup driven by a local) to the tiny rural village of Sierpe. From there, we took a boat down th wild and undeveloped Rio Sierpe and out into the pristine Drake Bay.
Drake Bay was the ideal tropical paradise. Isolated. Untouched nature. Few locals and even fewer tourists. I only had my old 35mm Canon Powershot at the time, and as my originals are an ocean and a continent away, these small images I scanned in ages ago are all I have to share. But take a peek, and perhaps you’ll see why I consider Drake Bay to be one of my favorite places on the planet.
We visited the small port town of Quepos, from which we took a bus down a narrow, winding, dirt road to the nearby national park, Manuel Antonio. There was hardly a tourist in sight.
We visited the tiny village of La Fortuna, located at the base of the Arenal Volcano. We paid a local a small fee to guide us into the jungle where we could bask in the natural volcanic hot springs.
We rented a room in a family’s home in the even tinier village of Santa Elena. From Santa Elena, we walked up a long, deserted, dirt track to the Monte Verde Rainforest national park. Again, few tourists were to be seen.
In 2002, Melissa, Brenda and I returned to Costa Rica to find that things had changed drastically in seven years.
Quepos had become a booming tourist town, full of hostels and hotels, hip cafes, pricey restaurants and souvenir shops. The road connecting Quepos to Manuel Antonio had been paved, and its entire distance lined with resorts, hotels, condos and restaurants.
Likewise, La Fortuna had become a bustling tourist community. The volcanic hot springs of Arenal were no longer isolated swimming holes in the wilderness; instead, the naturally heated waters were pumped onto the grounds of impressively manicured hot spring resorts.
Santa Elena, too, was booming, full of a wide assortment of places to stay, eat, and entertain. The paved road leading up to the rainforest was lined with condos and resorts, going all the way up to the park’s gate.
While the interiors of the parks were indeed pristine reservoirs of nature (and while I must say that the hot spring resorts of Arenal were FABULOUS), I found the encroachment of the modern world distressing. Then, in one of the last legs of our trip, we journeyed south into the all-but-untouched Osa Peninsula. We arrived by bus at the nondescript village of Palmar Norte, from which we took a makeshift taxi (er, pickup driven by a local) to the tiny rural village of Sierpe. From there, we took a boat down th wild and undeveloped Rio Sierpe and out into the pristine Drake Bay.
Drake Bay was the ideal tropical paradise. Isolated. Untouched nature. Few locals and even fewer tourists. I only had my old 35mm Canon Powershot at the time, and as my originals are an ocean and a continent away, these small images I scanned in ages ago are all I have to share. But take a peek, and perhaps you’ll see why I consider Drake Bay to be one of my favorite places on the planet.
Drake Bay
Drake Bay as a storm approaches.
Shortly after taking this shot I was thoroughly drenched.
Left: Drake Bay at sunset
Center: Rio Sierpe
Right: Small waterfall and swimming hole in the wilderness
So why do I bring this up? Well, this morning I received a rather depressing email from Brenda and Melissa. A company called Arenas de Oro has purchased a huge chunk of the Drake Bay area wilderness (86 acres to be exact), and is carving it up into a planned beachfront community. Arenas de Oro is a branch of a real estate group called the Costa Rica Land Trust, which is supposedly “dedicated to environmentally conscious development of Costa Rica Real Estate that preserves wildlife and the scenic beauty of the landscape while helping people to enjoy their dream ocean view land investment.” It might be environmentally conscious development, but it’s still rampant development. Especially as CRLT seems to also own the greater portion of the land ranging from Dominical to Playa Uvita to the Sierpe basin to Drake.
Melissa, Brenda and I have been toying with the idea of a return to Drake Bay this fall. While I’m not entirely certain that spending a month in Costa Rica while unemployed is the best of plans, it now seems imperative that I go before it’s too late.
6 comments:
I had heard something like this from a friend who was there in October. It is sad.....too many people. Thanks to you having been there, I got to see it.
Are we already too late???
You have to strike while the iron is hot, Jane. Go for it.
I was watching some silly show last week where a couple were looking for a vacation home in Costa Rica. They ended up with this stupid condo-looking thing in a vacation suburb/gated community. Tragic. I am sure the show inspired many more people with too much money to go looking for a second/third/Nth home in paradise.
Why can't people just love the world how it is?
This is devistating to me. It would not be bad if they just put in tree huts like the ones that we stayed in as they did not seem to have a large environmental impact. So if it was like that, then I think that would be wonderful. However, if they are just going to clear cut, I think that it is truely a tragic paradise lost. Is there anyway that you can find out. Maybe, you can e-mail the guy at hotel mirador to find out. If they have not developed yet then I would go if I was you. You may never get to see that pristine beauty again. I am just wondering how in the hell people are supposed to get there on a regular basis. While the boat was neat, it was not very practical for everyday traveling but maybe thats just my opinion. If you find out more, let us know. Hope that all is well. Heres wishing you and everyone else a happy VD.
Christopher
This is really the worst news ever. Jane, It does feel like we were there just recently, I was shocked when you pointed out that it was 2002 (and now 2007)! There has to be somewhere that they can not ruin! I think that these developers should be required to visit Orlando and witness first hand the affects of unplanned, careless development for the sake of money. The things about this area is -- it is rain forest. They talk about on their webpage how it is right above the rain forest, but the rain forest doesn't end at the gate to the national park (or at least it didn't)! There were monkeys in the same trees we were sleeping in! All the...and for what?
Melissa
Caitlin - I hate people like that. I can only assume that their paradise home will have every modern convenience that their "city" homes have - why must people destroy a place just for the view?
Chris - There is (and was when we were there) an "airport" in Drake. I'm pretty sure from my Aunt's pictures (she took the boat in and flew out) that at the time it was little more than a small grass airstrip for cessna-type planes. But now flights between San Jose and Drake have increased, and they are planning to build an international airport in the Palmar Norte/Sur area, with regularly scheduled flights into Drake. Also, when you take a look at the new "resort hotels" that have popped up in Drake, it makes you think that the planned community will not consist of un-electrified cabins like El Mirador!
Melissa - How has it been five years??? I swear I counted it up on my fingers at least five times just to make sure I wasn't imagining things. It really feels like we were just there. I can't imagine what all this development will do to the rainforest. Why don't people seem to realize that the rainforest doesn't (or *didn't*) end at the park's boundaries. Grrr. Eco-friendly development is not the same as a planned community! Do you think we should go back? Or is it too late?
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