If, like me, you're not always motivated to practice yoga daily, book a yoga retreat. After tireless research, I singled out a 5-day stand-up paddle/yoga retreat lead by Sandra Tedeschi of Vajra Sol Yoga Adventuresin Santa Teresa, a bohemian beach village on the Nicoya Peninsula. Her itineraries were equal parts play and pause, a rejuvenating balance for the stressed-out and work-obsessed. The promise of staying six nights at a luxury beachfront hotel—think Balinese-style two-story villas and private bungalows, exotic gardens, and hammocks under the coconut palms—was quite attractive, especially since my hostel days are nearly two decades behind me.
Most mornings start with fruit smoothies and banana pancakes (caramelized in plenty of butter because this is vacation, after all) and then a paddle board lesson with instructor Viktor, a sweet part-time jewelry maker with nice teeth and an adoring lilt in his speech. Each of the three SUP sessions are held in a different spot along the coast, starting first with a flat creek, then a protected bay, and on the final day, an ocean excursion near Cabo Blanco Nature Reserve—a spot with easy rolling waves that add just the right amount of bonus difficulty to an SUP yoga class. If you're lucky, you'll get a blessing of light rain.
After a lunch of fresh fish tacos and salad, downtime ensues. I spent the lull in my bungalow reading short fiction and napping. The sun is en fuego at this time of day, so staying indoors with the air conditioner was preferable for wimpy ol' me—you'd never guess that I originally hail from Hawaii. From my bungalow's big windows I could see the more determined of my fellow campers donning sarongs and sun hats to walk on the beach or explore the tide pools. Every move you make here seems Instagram-worthy, yet you couldn't feel more unattached to your smartphone.
At 3:30 Sandra leads a daily 90-minute yoga class in an open-air yoga studio, or, if you're embracing your weeklong identity as a devout sanskrit-speaking yogi, a yoga shala. Each class focuses on a particular aspect of yoga—inversions, for example, or balancing—and the asana sequence is always beginner-ready. Sandra spends time breaking down the poses, making sure they're built from the ground up and aligned as nicely as possible. More advanced practitioners deepen poses at will. Whichever level you're working at, sweat will pour profusely from your body, partly because the humidity in Costa Rica is comparable to that of a sauna, and partly because you're stretching and moving and holding strength postures like you're some kind of guru. After an extra-long savasana, everyone sticks a straw in a coconut and walks out to the beach for the sunset. Serenity will sneak up on you at this moment in the day, like clockwork.
There's plenty of exploring to do beyond the retreat. Dinner or lunch in Santa Teresa is an adventure on its own, given the town's single pothole-riddled road, which requires an ATV or other 4WD vehicle to traverse. Many ex-patriates have planted roots in ST, and as a result international restaurants pop up here, from Italian (the housemade tagliatelle carbonara at Ala Chile Viola is heartfelt and delicious) to Tex Mex (don't miss the spicy chicken quesadillas at Habaneros). There are plenty of mom-and-pop sodas (cafes) that serve authentic Costa Rican casados (plate lunches with rice, beans, meat, and plantains). Stylish beachwear—bikinis, rash guards, and Viktor's ocean-inspired jewelry—can all be found at Kina Surf Shop. Across the street, a man sells homemade whole-fruit popsicles for one US dollar. (On a sweltering day, it's the best buck you'll ever spend.) And if you're looking for everything from flip flops to plantain chips to Nescafe Mokaccino packets (a guilty pleasure only to be indulged in the absence of totally superior Costa Rican coffee), you'll find it a Supermarket Ronny. I can always count on finding a dose of real culture at the grocery store.
Since Santa Teresa is essentially where the rainforest meets the ocean, it's worth exploring the other side of the wild landscape. From town, it's about an hour inland via 4WD to Cabo Blanco Nature Reserve, a lush tropical forest that's home to plenty of animals (anteaters, deer, armadillos) you're likely to spot; wildcats such as jaguars and ocelots also roam here, but sighting them is rare. As you journey deep into the forest via the strenuous Sueco Trail (90 minutes one-way for even the fittest hikers), howler monkeys will menacingly bellow through the canopy. Droves of determined ants will bisect the trail. Otherworldly funghi will seemingly bloom before your eyes. And at the end of the long, rugged path, you'll emerge onto a pristine white sand beach with a peaceful surf. In Costa Rica, when life hands you adventures, you can't help but make metaphors.
