Journey to a New Life, Part I
Viva la Pura Vida!

The crowded flight to San José, Costa Rica, was interminable, arriving late at night on the eve of the Virgen de los Angeles day, a national holiday. Perfect, I thought. I’ll spend the day by the pool to rest, rehydrate, and recuperate from nine weeks of packing, sorting, donating, planning, and hemorrhaging money on movers and shippers, plane tickets, and advance rent payments at my new location.
I arrived late at night having checked ten (!) bags, nine of which arrived at the same time I did. I was hot, thirsty, exhausted, and apprehensive, to say the least, having been uprooted from a fairly happy life in the Pacific Northwest. There were many challenges ahead of me, not the least of which was recovering a lost bag in the middle of the night.
WTF Am I Doing in Costa Rica?
My partner of 12 years decided one day that he didn’t want me living with him any longer. This, after I had sold my business, retired to become a farmer and writer, and after I invested in building a guest house/studio, greenhouse, landscaping projects, and several major construction projects inside our new house on property he owned.
As a retired person living mainly on Social Security and not having been reimbursed for my investments in my ex-partner’s property, clearly I couldn’t afford to live anywhere in the US without invoking Section 8 or finding roommates or living in a tiny house on wheels in a parking lot somewhere. At 75, none of these seemed compelling.
Fortunately, I had been traveling to Costa Rica nearly every year for close to 20 years, having missed only one annual visit due to COVID restrictions. My late friend and art teacher, Jan Hart, whom I came to visit every year, first brought a motley crew of us artist-wannabes down here on a thrilling two-week painting tour in 2005.
Soon after, in her mid-60s, Jan found herself in a similar financial position to mine where no respectable housing in our home country was affordable. Fortunately, meanwhile, like me, she had fallen in love with this colorful, happy country, found a perfect fixer-upper Tico house of crimson and sage, and began the long, loving labor of creating a paradise on earth.

Because of her courage, determination, and love for the pura vida spirit and culture here, I too was inspired to make Costa Rica my forever home.
Getting Here
Back at the airport, after filing a claim for my missing bag, I grabbed a cab to a sweet boutique hotel in the city, and crashed like a falling timber for ten hours. Meanwhile, my missing bag materialized overnight at the front desk! The next morning, after a cup of delicious Costa Rican coffee, I hit the streets to explore and start practicing my Español, mainly listening, not yet speaking.
Passing by a lovely park in front of a colossal church, I hear music and laughter from somewhere ahead. Following the sounds, I find a celebration happening, with live music, dancing… it’s a festival! Day of the Virgins, and everyone is dancing in the streets.


