Montezuma – Day 1: Bioluminescence & Bohemian Vibes
MONTEZUMA
Day 1: Bioluminescence & Bohemian Vibes
January 22, 2023
Regretfully, my time in Monteverde had come to an end. I would’ve gladly spent months there, going on wildlife expeditions every single day. The more I saw, the more I wanted to see, my curiosity now insatiable.
Now, I’d be swapping cloud forests for sandy beaches on the Pacific side. Having actively decided not to visit the American-infested north-western side of Costa Rica, I chose the less touristy Montezuma as my next destination. The small bohemian beach town is known for its relaxed vibe, nearby waterfalls, and strong ties to nature and sustainability – which is exactly what I was after.
One shuttle, a ferry across the Gulf of Nicoya, and a second shuttle later, and there I was. It felt like such a long time since I’d been on the Pacific side of Central America. Sure, I’d been to San Juan del Sur a few days earlier, but since I didn’t actually swim there, it felt only fair to count El Tunco in El Salvador as my last proper Pacific stop which, by that point, felt like a lifetime ago.
Energised by the closeness of the ocean, it didn’t take long to settle into my hostel and speed over to the beach, where I spent the afternoon. Aaaah – breathing in the fresh, salty breeze, being free among the waves, and baking under the scorching sun. Pure ecstasy.
Of Boats and Planes
As much as I love the sea, I get bored of it pretty quickly if I’m not doing something stimulating – say diving or… well, diving. So I asked around, booked a dive for the following day, and jumped on the next boat leaving for a bioluminescence tour.
My curiosity was still unsatisfied, and my FOMO was still ablaze after missing the tour in Holbox back in Mexico. I mean, sure, seeing bioluminescence in Utila while diving was magical – but this time I had a chance to see the glowing particles in the water and, if conditions were right, maybe even along the shoreline as waves broke. And luckily enough, it was a new moon, meaning visibility would be at its best. That was the dream, at least.
So off I went. And I think it was at that point that I realised I’d need a boat of my own someday. After working on the Miss Tamara for two months and after so many boat rides during this trip, I could finally conclude that this is where I was happiest – or, perhaps, second happiest. I think being in an operating room still took first place. But yeah, boats make me happy. I always find myself staring longingly at the horizon with a grin stretching from ear to ear, soaking up the sun and feeling like everything’s right with the world. I feel so free, so fresh, so reinvigorated. I’d definitely get a boat one day. Which means I’d have to do a sailing course – yet another goal I’d set myself for when I got back to Malta. My finances might have been in a precarious position, especially at that point, but I’d make it work. I’d have to.
I got on yet another tangent, haven’t I? So… the boat tour. Our first stop was Cocalito Falls – also known as El Chorro – a small waterfall where a stream spills over a rocky cliff and drops right onto the beach and into the ocean.
After taking some time to appreciate it from a distance, we headed to a spot offshore right next to an airstrip. We hung around, half-hoping we’d spot dolphins or maybe even a whale – though I wasn’t exactly optimistic, since whale seasons are very time-specific. Then we saw it: a tiny plane materialising through the clouds, growing bigger and bigger until it roared right above our heads and dropped onto the runway in front of us. It was manic! I never thought I’d see a plane that up close without being involved in some freak accident.
Old Sun, New Moon
After that, we went to Playa Muertos. Our guide Renaldo joked it was named after the many tourists who die there every day. Then he laughed and gave his version of the real story – that the rocky cove enclosing the bay serves to deaden the waves that come ashore, resulting in the calmest and stillest waters around.
Whatever the true origin of the name, the place felt like a hidden slice of paradise: pristine sand, giant palms, and that slow, sunset hush that had everyone speak a little softer. We sat in the shade waiting for the sun to set. That’s where I got chatting with Hanna, a gorgeous girl from Sweden who works as a professional actress and had taken time off to try and “find herself”, always lost in her work – something I could totally relate to. It was nice talking to someone who was as passionate about their job as I am about mine, especially as we downed one Imperial after another. If that weren’t enough, she also told me about her ulcerative colitis and the many treatments she’d gone through without success, finding some relief after a Kambo ritual – something I’d heard about back in the Peruvian Amazon.
As usual, I felt, once again, like nothing could compare to a Pacific sunset. Okay, maybe the ones Utila’s. But it’s a tie at best. As the reds and violets unfolded over the beach, we waited for the colours to dull and fade, with the promise of glowing particles making their way into the water around us.
New Moon, New Hopes
That, however, didn’t quite happen – despite it being a new moon and the bay pitch black. “It’s not gonna be like in the photos!” Renaldo warned – a few hours too late. The tour operator had assured me we’d be able to see it. I felt so damned robbed.
With that, we got back on the boat and headed for the centre of the bay. As soon as the engine kicked in, we saw a trail of sparkling light behind us. I can’t say that was disappointing. It was truly magical, watching those blue-white particles flare up from below and then dissipate into nothingness a few seconds later. We jumped into the water, and the splash produced even more light. Then we were handed goggles and, much like in Utila on the night dives, we started swishing our hands through the dark. To the unassuming eye, we probably looked like we were having a seizure. As comical as we probably appeared, we simply couldn’t help ourselves!
It hurts to admit this, but this was way better than the bioluminescence that had left me in awe back in Utila. This was something else. One swift movement of my hand left a glowing trail of white-blue light behind it. I must’ve spent at least half an hour doing renditions of underwater kamehamehas and trying to water-bend, each pulse lighting up the water I displaced. I felt like a little kid who’d been thrown into the sea for the first time – full of curiosity and wonder.
So yeah – no shiny waves on the shore. But in the end, it was definitely worth the money. And as a bonus, I now had a beautiful girl who wanted to meet me again the following day. Oh, wait… am I grinning? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.