Had to re-post this magical account of a self-described “American Girl’s” visit to Pavones. Her photos and poetic prose had me falling in love with Pavones all over again. Thanks Camille!
If you were to tell the city dwelling, silk wearing, white couch owning perfectionist I was two years ago, that I would one day be sitting on a dusty tire in the back of a bus, covered in sweat, eating papaya with my bare hands, I doubt I would have believed them.
But this is precisely how my time in the small town of Pavones at the southernmost tip of Costa Rica began.
After two boats, one shuttle, four buses, and a disastrous border crossing (I might be in the country illegally…), Marissa and I arrived in the village famous for its left hand point break and little else.
Surrounded by darkness interrupted by the occasional hole in the wall, we felt like we had reached the end of the world.
We soon realized, that what we found was…
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