Trevor picked us up at the San Jose airport at around 2 pm in his beat up old burgundy Jeep. He’d been living in Costa Rica for almost 5 years, and had begun to dress like a local: palm frond hat, sunbleached tee, giant smile.
The trip from the airport down to Dominical was a little over three hours, just the perfect amount of time to spend daydreaming with the wind in your hair. The views were pretty sweet too, with roads lined with tropical flowers and colorful fruit stands. We stopped at about half way there for some fresh papaya and bananas. Planning for smoothies on a surf trip is always a good idea.
When we rolled up to our spot in Dominical, we knew the week was going to be perfect. Our green and yellow house was right on a pristine beach lined by lush jungle vegetation and a bunch of hammocks. Trevor brought his dog, Larfy, to stay with us, and our whole crew was feeling the fun family vibes of our temporary new home. The beach was empty, the waves were good, and we were in paradise.
We spent the next week getting up at dawn to shoot early surf sessions and morning light shenanigans. After lunch, the hottest time of day, we’d mostly lounge around and read or snooze in one of the hammocks outside. Late afternoons were for maxing out on golden hour when every surface just glistened from the magical light.
Those seven days spent discovering hidden waterfalls, swimming in the ocean, making friends with strange lizards that could walk on water, and getting so sandy that we were basically indistinguishable from the beach itself went by in a flash. I guess that’s what happens when you and some of your best friends get to roam around like curious nomads in one of the most beautiful and friendly places in the world. Dominical, we miss you.
