Sunday, Oct. 26 Touring Jaco and Manuel Antonio

I met Andres around 9 am at a MacDonalds near an Adobe rent a car office, to pick up a car and begin our road trip to the coast. A motorcycling club was also meeting at that spot for a road rally, causing me to reminisce about my Harley riding days in DC, while munching on an egg McMuffin waiting for Andres.

Earlier in the week we had discussed a weekend tour, perhaps to the volcano Poas, or to the coffeetown one of my teachers recommended. Saturday he invited me to sit in with him during a band rehearsal he had that day with a fellow named Gustavo, in a neighborhood called San Francisco. There was a young percussionist, and later Gustavo’s daughter joined us as a vocalist. I had a great seat in the middle, tapping my knees with my hands and practicing my rhythm.

At some point that day I recalled that Andres had mentioned that he had a drum kit that he left in someone’s safekeeping and he needed to get back. I asked him to remind me where it was, and he said Quepos, a town on the middle-Pacific coast that is next to a famous national park, Manuel Antonio, three or four hours away. I wanted to check out this part of Costa Rica, which also takes us through another well-known surfing destination, Jaco. So why not take a tour that lets us return Andres’ drums? He’s a professional tour guide as well as a musician, so I figured it would be a good day.

We took an alternate route through the mountains to our first stop, Jaco, having been advised there were road obstructions on the main route. Andres drove, while I sat back and played some of his CDs, further exploring Latin music and learning about the countryside as well.

I had really only heard bad things about Jaco, that it was overdeveloped, ugly, and full of crime, drugs and prostitutes. It’s the closest beach to San Jose, about two hours away, which would explain its popularity and out-of-control development. I pictured it as a larger version of Tamarindo, which I found to be rather tawdry, and is pointed to by the enlightened denizens of Nosara as the worst-case-scenario of what over-development brings to Costa Rica.

We didn’t spend much time in Jaco, stopping for lunch and at a couple of music venues where Andres wanted to reestablish connections. I have to say the town wasn’t so bad, and not nearly as big as I expected, although a few high rise buildings threatened. It seemed reasonably clean and tidy, more so than Tamarindo, and might compare favorably to Playa del Carmen, a pretty cool beach town south of Cancun. It was certainly not ‘sleepy,’ a term often used to describe Nosara, but maybe not that different than Samara, even a little more ‘upscale’ in appearance. For young partiers with money to spend, there were many attractions.

We continued along the coast, about an hour further to Quepos and Manuel Antonio, passing on a straight road through huge expanses of African palms, which Andres explained are the source of palm oil destined for biodiesel fuel. I wondered what the precipitous drop in oil prices would do to Costa Rica’s national ambition to produce bio fuels, including a big push to produce alcohol from sugar cane.

Quepos is not situated directly on the beach, but it’s a fairly busy town that serves as the entry point for Manuel Antonio. There is a road that winds from one end of Quepos up into the mountainside, and is lined with restaurants, hotels and resorts, many of them tucked into side roads and quite high-end. The road winds down again to a beach area, crowded with shops and beach concessions. At this point it was after 3 pm and we hadn’t connected with the people who had the drums. The beach area, what I saw of it, was beautiful although crowded, even at this low season. The park is noted for wildlife hikes, best appreciated early in the morning. We returned to Quepos, an unremarkable commercial center, and secured the drumset as a serious deluge set in. Our return along the coastal road was treacherous at times with the nightfall and hard rain, and I was happy not to be driving. Passing Jaco, as we began our ascent into the mountains, we stopped at a roadside cantina for a beverage. Two friendly hookers offered to show us a good time, but we let them know we weren’t interested and continued our journey.