Sand and Sea To Spare In Costa Rica

By Ted Rose
The New York Times

January 18, 2004

THE Nicoya Peninsula juts off Costa Rica into the Pacific Ocean like a misshapen ear. It is rugged terrain, formed by the string of volcanoes inland. Other than a few large beach resorts in the far north, Nicoya's coastline has missed much of the development that has spread across the country.

In a search for an affordable, relaxed beach vacation, I first visited Nicoya in January 2002, traveling to Montezuma, a small town on the bottom tip of the peninsula, and returned last year. Once an active fishing village, Montezuma has developed a reputation as a backpacker haven, a beachside Katmandu.

One can fly from the capital, San José, to several spots on the Nicoya Peninsula, but on my first visit my three friends and I chose a combination of buses and a ferry ride. With the closest landing strip about 18 miles away, everyone completes the trip to Montezuma by road.

The town is at the base of a steep line of cliffs, a few dozen buildings cozied up against the Pacific Ocean. A string of long beaches stretches to the south; a picturesque lava-rock coast backed up against thick jungle lies to the north.

Montezuma itself is a cosmopolitan oasis, dominated by young visitors from Europe and South America. Its two main streets form an L and serve as an intimate town center. I counted one late-night bar, one mini-supermarket and one town drunk.

We settled into two simple rooms at Cabinas Mar y Cielo, a six-room operation behind one of the main gift shops. I soon discovered more elegant, affordable accommodations north of town, but I stayed faithful to Mar y Cielo. It was centrally situated, yet generally quiet. I could open my door and see the ocean a few hundred feet away.

Soon enough, I settled into a pleasing schedule, alternating the natural and the urbane. After a morning dip in the surf, I might head to town for a mango and papaya smoothie. I'd take a hike to the waterfall. Then I'd return to town to check my e-mail. By sunset, my friends and I might meet on the beach and go to La Playa de los Artistas, the best among Montezuma's handful of good restaurants.

We had intended to move around Nicoya, but Montezuma got the best of us. We stayed there for 10 days and vowed to return.

On my next visit in January 2003, I found myself less enamored of Montezuma. The town had grown slightly, sprouting a new supermarket and a couple new lodgings, but I suspect my tolerance for Montezuma's culture had simply diminished. I found the active night life unappetizing and during the day I found myself longing for a beach with fewer young backpackers.

I proposed that my friends and I travel to Nosara, a small town about halfway up the Nicoya Peninsula.

Most of the roads in Nicoya are slow, winding and poor. All of them are set in the region's vertiginous landscape. Rather than endure a dusty five-hour car ride we decided to charter a boat for the two-hour trip up the coast.

The ocean was choppy, but from the water we had arresting views of the untouched coastline. We negotiated for some fishing time, which meant our 18-year-old captain idled the boat while we ineffectually cast lures for about 45 minutes.

Because of the currents, our boat landed about 10 miles south of Nosara in Sámara, an upscale beach town popular with well-heeled Costa Ricans. As we approached Sámara's wide cove, our young captain recommended we stay in Sámara rather than arrange for a car to drive to Nosara. ''Nosara is very quiet,'' he said, scrunching his face. ''Sámara is more fun.''

I wanted to leave for Nosara as soon as possible.

Less than a town, Nosara is more like a sprawling settlement. There are no paved roads, and handmade signs for tourist chalets dot the roads. We followed the signs to Lagarta Lodge.

If not for its location, Lagarta Lodge would be a forgettable place: a collection of seven simple rooms, a modest pool and an open-air patio. But the patio happens to be situated several hundred feet above a private nature reserve that stretches north for miles and is bordered to the west by the Pacific. It is a stunningly vast view.

Lagarta is run by a friendly couple: Myriam, a native of Colombia, offers a generous dose of Latin hospitality, while Marcel, a Swiss national, keeps order in the house.

I worried about losing the culinary quality of Montezuma, but Marcel and Myriam eased my fears the first night with their weekly buffet ($12), which attracts people from around Nosara and features a generous barbecue of meats and 12 homemade salads. Their simple breakfasts of fresh fruit and homemade cereal ($6) were equally satisfying.

And really, I hadn't come to Nosara for the food but for the outdoors. I soon learned I had my pick of the beaches. Playa Guiones, a long, white stretch of sand, lies to the south. To the north, visible from Lagarta, is Playa Nosara, which has the best surf. Beyond that was Playa Ostional, which is home to popular nesting grounds for thousands of olive ridley sea turtles. I stuck to the one within short walking distance, Playa Pelada, an intimate crescent lined with palm trees.

I loved the 15-minute stroll down to Playa Pelada. It began on an invariably empty dirt road and led to a monkey path through the jungle that ended up at an invariably empty beach. There my friends and I commandeered a makeshift bench under a lonely tree in the sand. We called it our recording studio and brought down a guitar to play during the hottest hours of the day.

Early one morning, I spent some time exploring the Reserva Biológica Nosara, the 125-acre protected area below Lagarta Lodge. The air soon became muggy and filled with the sounds of howler monkeys. I explored the handful of trails through the valley of mangrove trees and tangled vines.

Another day, Myriam arranged for a friend and me to go horseback riding through the reserve and around Nosara. We found the small area where the surfers hang out as well as a few other isolated tourist spots like our lodge, and a good number of ''For Sale'' signs, but otherwise Nosara was pretty much empty. We headed to the ocean for a gallop on the beach.

Along the Nicoya Peninsula

Among the airlines that fly from the United States to San José are American, Continental and Northwest. To get to the Nicoya Peninsula from there, you can rent a car, take a bus (it is about a five-hour trip by road and ferry to Montezuma) or fly. Sansa, www.flysansa.com, and NatureAir, www.travelair-costarica.com, fly to landing strips at Tambor, Sámara and Nosara ($58 to $80 one way). The major airport in Liberia is near the northern part of the peninsula. The international dialing code is 506.

In Montezuma, it's hard to find a place that isn't near the ocean. I stayed at Cabinas Mar y Cielo, (506) 642-0261, which offers double rooms with bath for $25 to $40.

The attractive Hotel Los Mangos, (506) 642-0076, fax (506) 642-0259, Web site www.hotellosmangos.com, features a pool with an incredible view and individual bungalows ($81); book well in advance.

Hotel Amor de Mar, telephone and fax (506) 642-0262, www.amordemar.com, has a wonderful lawn and tide pools and comfortable, simple rooms for $35 to $87, double.

Among Montezuma's restaurants, La Playa de los Artistas serves the best dinner in town (entrees about $10) and Pension Lucy's has a simple lunch with great ceviche for about $3. El Sano Banano has good fruit smoothies ($2).

In Nosara, the seven rooms in the Lagarta Lodge, (506) 682-0035, fax (506) 682-0135, www.lagarta.com, are $70 to $80 a night. A popular dining choice is Olga's on Playa Pelada.

Ted Rose is a writer in residence at Shambhala Mountain Center in Colorado.

Copyright 2004 The New York Times Company