Mamallena’s Hostel is painted a bright haint blue, like the underhang of so many porches I’d painted in Virginia and Louisiana. It sits right on…
Woke up in my tent at the edge of a ravine, a hundred feet above the roaring Rio Chirripo Pacifico. A twenty minute walk downhill from the…
Thanksgiving. Playa Samara on the Nicoya Peninsula, northwest of Costa Rica. Feeling tropical…
Woke up in my tent in the yard of Casa Cristina, knowing I had a border to cross that day. I’d have to be on point to make the…