All who wander are not lost
Almost everyone who lives in Tamarindo knows a guide who will show you around the country side or arrange a day trip for you. All guides are not created equal. The guide who took us to Buena Vista was less than enthusiastic while the son of our house manager was full of character and national pride. While driving south he was constantly scanning the trees and roadside for wildlife and fauna. He stopped countless times in route, once even to pick fruit from a roadside tree.
Bring your board
I admit we we lured here by the sign as well as the promise of ice cold beer..but the nachos were not as promised (enlarge the photo to see what I mean).
Upstairs are very sparse accomodations for weeklong surf camp participants Yummy fish tacos...
I Didn't Hate It
It takes a lot for me to really hate something. This place did not fulfill that requirement but it was not what I classify as a great meal. I would classify it as only so-so. Plus I hate to pan a place on one experience.
I had the Quatro Queso Pizza (4-Cheese Pizza). Although the dough & crust were interesting (a cross between foccacia bread & croissant dough), the pizza was a little bland.
The cost was about average for the area, not what I would call expensive.
The dining area was a nice little open-air patio with good view of the main street to people-watch.
Overall, I would say that it met my need for sustenance at that point without feeling like I was ripped off with the price.
...but as my usual I stayed in wait for animals to take them pics and in this pic, when I pointed it, there was also a wader which made a nice contrast with the smaller seagulls only my last silent step forward to arrive nearer wasn't so silent and the bird flew away :-(...
nevertheless I can still bother you with some other pics, in my travelogue...
Travel Dates: February 16-23 2009, February 20-27 2010.
The coach, transporting pale, weary Canadian travellers from the airport to the hotel, is slowly making its way along winding roads through the pitch-black night of the Costa Rican countryside. Many of the passengers are completely exhausted, and I'm no exception. I've been up since 4:00 AM. In my fatigue, I rest my head against the window, looking out into the darkness and mumble to myself, "Tamarindo... Taa-maa-rinnndoo..." The name of the town has a nice ring to it. It sounds like an expensive chocolate dessert, an exotic Spanish dance, or the brand name of a fedora hat. Occasionally, I catch a glimpse of a house--wooden structures that look like nice, little cottages. I wonder what the coming week has in store for me?
"When Everything Goes Right"
I've found there are times in life, especially as a solo traveller, when things become perfect beyond your wildest imaginations. That a golden key is granted you and divine cosmic tumblers rise and fall to click sublimely into place. That was my Costa Rican experience. "This isn't my life," I thought as I sat on the balcony of my room enjoying a drink and the sunshine while surveying a large garden of lush tropical vegetation, "It belongs to someone else."
What's not paradise in this? My room is cleaned and bed made daily for me, there's cold beer in the fridge, all meals are prepared, it's warm and there hasn't been a single cloud in the sky all week. I've been swimming every day, travelled to an old colonial city, and have been on a snorkel and sunset boat tour. The house band at the hotel waves to me every time I show up around them. They even dedicate a song to yours truly. I've made about a dozen good friends in the few days I've been here and we holler each others' names and shake hands whenever we meet--anxious to sit down, chat, and have a drink together. There's even a blossoming romance with a pretty, sweet American girl. Perfect. Absolutely.
Tamarindo's three and half kilometres of white beach flanked by the rolling neon-blue waves of the Pacific Ocean, is what's made the town popular. It became a mecca for raggedy, off-the-grid surfer-types. ...And where surfers go, mainstream tourism is sure to follow soon afterwards.
The town itself claims to only have 2000 residents but around 5000 during the high tourist season. This will change fast in the coming years. The laidback mood reminded me of Playa del Carmen, Mexico 10 years ago--when it was only small fishing town, not even marked on some maps. The day will come when Tamarindo will grow fat--the cruise ships will come, the streets will all be paved, the chain restaurants will move in, prices will go up, vendors will become pushy, and those annoying overweight tourists with their tomato sunburns, Hawaiian shirts, and souvenir straw hats will walk the streets aimlessly with their confused, zombie-like stares.
...But until that day comes, this really is paradise.