Travel
Sun Spot
You may go without air conditioning or hot water, but the pretty Costa Rican village of Montezuma is so laid-back that you won't care.
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The village of Montezuma fans out along what may be the prettiest coastline in all of Costa Rica. Lazy palm trees and powdery white sand (home to the biggest, mellowest iguanas you'll ever shoo off a blanket) separate the gently crashing surf from a string of tiny hotels and cafés. A makeshift campers' cove, dotted with a dozen or so brightly colored tents, takes up the southernmost section of town. (One tanned camper—umbrella in his left hand, beer can in his right—claimed to have squatted in the cove for the past seven years.) Nightlife options proved pleasantly slim: salsa dancing with the European backpacker crowd at Chico's Bar, skinny-dipping under the stars—or simply trying to remember if it was Wednesday or Thursday.
Our seven days in Montezuma in late March were nothing but sunshine, sunshine, and more sunshine. Though technically located in "dry forest" (Costa Rica's almost surreally lush rain forest begins some fifty miles east), the Nicoya Peninsula is still greenhouse-humid and populated with a dazzling array of tropical flora and wildlife. In the densely wooded, 2,800-acre Cabo Blanco nature reserve (about six miles of dusty roads southwest of Montezuma), which we visited by rented motorcycle one morning, we heard the echoing roar of howler monkeys and spied velvety-black toucanets and white-striped raccoon-looking creatures called coati. At one point along the tropical forest's shaded, three-mile trail, a cluster of white-faced capuchin monkeys startled us by screeching and bouncing on the branches directly above our heads. Sunbathing in Montezuma is usually an afterthought; most of the recreation on the peninsula involves moving—kayaking, deep-sea fishing, scuba diving, birding, or splashing along the riverbanks on horseback. Aventuras en Montezuma (506-642-0050), whose office is located in the heart of the village, can furnish you with guides and all the necessary supplies.
Our base of operations for the week was Amor de Mar (phone and fax 506-642-0262), a sylvan hotel perched on a grassy, three-acre seaside spread with so many tropical plants and potted flowers that the hotel retains a full-time gardener. Here blue-winged dragonflies alight on your morning cup of coffee. At dusk the purpling sky fills with the wild ululations of chicharra cicadas and the shrieks of frigate birds swooping over the mango trees. The eleven-room, two-story structure includes a wraparound, second-floor veranda fashioned from a beautiful locally harvested dark wood called nazarena; though rustic (air conditioning is provided by electric fans and the sea breeze), the rooms are detailed with finely crafted shelves and mirrors and smell magically of cherry blossoms. One week's lodging at Amor de Mar (including a daily breakfast of banana crêpes or huevos rancheros at the hotel's al fresco cafe) will set you back about $500 per couple. Other comparably priced options in or near the village include Hotel el Jardín (phone and fax 506-642-0074), the tile-roofed Sano Banano Cabinas (phone and fax 506-642-0068), and the ten poolside bungalows at Los Mangos (506-642-0259, fax 506-642-0076).
Best outdoor dinner: an incredibly light spinach-and-shrimp pizza, served on a giant green banana leaf, at Playa de los Artistas. So close to the ocean you feel its briny spray on your cheeks, this stunning open-air restaurant consists of twelve enormous tables (made from varnished tree trunks) under a canopy of palm trees and flowering vines that are so thickly intertwined you can barely see the sky. The exotic menu ranges from a spicy eggplant-filled pastry called scaccia del diablo to shark soup with coconut and ginger.
Best spontaneous indulgence: traditional Ayurvedic massages (fragrant heated oils slathered from head to toe) at Amor de Mar. Of the ninety-minute, $50 indulgence, all Plaegian and I can say is, "Oh, my."
Best leap of faith: the question popped soon after we finished eating dinner at Los Mangos, another charming, open-air restaurant a seashell's throw from the water. Sore and sweaty from a day spent hiking along the river to one of Montezuma's waterfalls, Plaegian and I had splurged on the marisco especial (at 6,000 colones—roughly $20—by far the most expensive choice on the menu). Prepared on an outdoor wood-burning grill by a topknotted and dragon-tattooed chef who sang along with an Erykah Badu tape, the feast came on a pair of butter-smeared wooden planks that covered the entire table. Atop the melted butter: sizzling octopus, several dozen mussels, a tuna filet, two red snapper filets, and a shish kebab of jumbo shrimp, along with potatoes, rice, salad, and a bowl of garlic sauce for dipping. Shortly after polishing off the last shrimp, I proposed to Plaegian, and after two more sips of her beer, she accepted.
A word to the wise: You should probably spend your final night in Costa Rica within striking distance of the international airport near San José. Consider staying in Alajuela, a pleasant, bougainvillea-laced town of 35,000 that is only two miles from the airport and has a handful of moderately priced hotels located near a shady park and a white-domed cathedral. The two most popular ones are Charly's Albergue (phone and fax 506-441-0115) and Hotel 1915 (506-441-0495).
Incidentally, while in Alajuela, we witnessed another protest march, though this one remained relatively calm. A young female demonstrator explained that the rallies and blockades, such as the one that halted our bus ride to Puntarenas, had been organized by labor union members, students, and environmentalists demanding that Costa Rica not privatize its electricity and telecommunications industries.
Despite the protests (which have ended) and a State Department travel advisory issued in March after the well-publicized killing of two Americans near the Caribbean coastal town of Puerto Limón, Costa Rica remains the safest place in Central America to visit. The murders were an aberration for a country so routinely peaceful it doesn't even keep a standing army. It would be a shame if bad press kept you away: Costa Rica has some of the world's most breathtaking natural resources. And Montezuma—regardless of the sweating it might take to journey there—is one of the country's crown jewels.
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