agua del día

agua del día

Share this post

agua del día
agua del día
Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica: A Slow Travel Guide
Copy link
Facebook
Email
Notes
More

Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica: A Slow Travel Guide

A 2025 updated guide to Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica. The beautiful beach town located on Costa Rica's southern caribbean coast.

Olivia Anelise's avatar
Olivia Anelise
May 27, 2025
∙ Paid
3

Share this post

agua del día
agua del día
Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica: A Slow Travel Guide
Copy link
Facebook
Email
Notes
More
2
1
Share

Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica: Where My Twenties Ended and My Thirties Began

Some places grow on you little by little. Puerto Viejo felt like a deep breath I didn’t know I needed.

I hadn’t planned on coming to this little Caribbean beach town tucked away on the southeastern coast of Costa Rica. Honestly, it wasn’t even on my radar. But life has a way of nudging you where you’re meant to be, even before you realize why.

What I found in Puerto Viejo changed something in me. It became the place where I closed out one chapter and quietly stepped into the next—where I crossed the invisible line between my twenties and thirties. Slow mornings, warm jungle air, and the rhythm of the Caribbean all invited me to turn inward.

The town itself is humble but alive—palm trees swaying, reggae spilling out from roadside spots, the smell of smoky jerk spices lingering in the air. One minute you’re hearing howler monkeys in the trees, the next you’re spotting a sloth napping up above. It’s wild, lush, and somehow deeply calming. Magnetic, in a way that’s hard to explain.

I came back almost two years later—this time, not by accident, but by choice.


Coming Back: What Puerto Viejo Gave Me Again

When it came time to renew our visas, we wanted to go somewhere that didn’t feel too far off from the life we’d been building in Puerto Escondido. We were craving somewhere slow. By the sea. Full of soul.

Puerto Viejo came up—and it just felt right. That quiet, certain yes.

We weren’t looking for something new. We wanted to return somewhere familiar, but with fresh eyes. To see how we’d changed. I think that’s one of the most beautiful ways to revisit a place—not just to explore it again, but to see yourself more clearly through it. To meet a past version of yourself and notice what’s shifted.

This trip felt different. Quieter. More grounded.
The first time I came, I had just left my twenties behind. I was full of momentum, full of energy. I had been living in Puerto Escondido, spending my days by the ocean, feeling strong in my body and inspired in my spirit. Everything felt open—like a fresh beginning.

This time, I arrived slower. A little more tired. Softer, maybe even a bit untethered.

The last couple years have been big—traveling through Asia, learning, growing, healing. I’ve built new community. I’ve started offering retreats. I’ve stepped more fully into my creativity, into my work. I’ve come home to myself in so many ways.

And still—I’m searching. Still shedding layers. Still figuring it out.

Puerto Viejo met me in that space.
Not to spark something new, but to remind me of what’s already here. Of who I already am.


Why Puerto Viejo Felt Like a Portal

It’s not just the scenery—though yes, it’s stunning. Puerto Viejo has this energy that feels untouched by time. There’s something about being on the Caribbean side of Costa Rica that just hits different. The rhythm is slower. The people are warm, expressive, grounded. There’s a strong Afro-Caribbean and Indigenous presence—especially from the Jamaican and Bribri communities—and you feel it in everything: the food, the music, the way people greet you with a smile and a simple “we’re here now, no rush.”

It’s the kind of place that doesn’t ask anything of you—except to be.

People talk about the Salsa Brava surf break—huge, wild waves—but what I kept noticing was the stillness that surrounds them. The way the jungle meets the ocean. The trees dripping with bananas and hibiscus. The mornings full of birdsong. The nights buzzing with cicadas and the occasional howler monkey calling through the dark.

This place teaches you to slow down. To listen more than you plan.

It’s not polished. There are no big resorts, no curated boardwalks. And that’s exactly what makes it so special. It’s for people who want to feel something real. Who crave depth. Whether you’re walking barefoot down a forest path, lying in a hammock watching sloths overhead, or sitting quietly with a plate of rice and beans cooked in coconut milk—there’s this deep, quiet medicine in the simplicity.

There’s a rawness here—not harsh, just honest. The elements are alive. The people are vibrant. You’re not being entertained—you’re being reminded of who you are underneath it all.

That alone made me want to come back. But honestly, it was everything. The food. The slow bike rides through jungle roads. The way the ocean changes her mood every day. The sense of space, inside and out. It gave me what I didn’t even know I needed, both times I landed there.

Puerto Viejo is one of those places where time feels like it dissolves. And when it does, something sacred opens up: presence, peace, and the feeling that maybe—just maybe—you’ve come home to yourself.

It’s a place that brings me back to who I really am—and what actually matters. I find myself fully appreciating the simplicity of life here, the kind that exists without so many distractions. Just the basics: good food, nature, meaningful connection, and space to breathe.


A Taste of the Caribbean

If Puerto Viejo has a heartbeat, it’s in the food.

This part of Costa Rica is full of Afro-Caribbean influence, especially Jamaican, and you can taste it in every bite. It’s not like the typical casados you find across the country—the food here leans bold, spicy, and full of flavor.

I didn’t just come here hungry for a good meal. I came craving something deeper. And I found it—in the way the habanero sauce made my tongue tingle and brought me straight into the moment. In the way meals were built in layers—coconut, thyme, garlic, ginger. These weren’t just meals—they were stories, memories, culture. A way of preserving and celebrating life all at once.

Keep reading with a 7-day free trial

Subscribe to agua del día to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.

Already a paid subscriber? Sign in
© 2025 Olivia Anelise
Privacy ∙ Terms ∙ Collection notice
Start writingGet the app
Substack is the home for great culture

Share

Copy link
Facebook
Email
Notes
More