My story is not one of arriving into the paradise of Tamarindo, 2024. Mine is one of running.
When I first became acquainted with the wild remote nature of Costa Rica, my world changed. The streets were dusty and bare. I would see the same hard bodied, man bunned, tattooed fellow in the street, on each trip to town. He would be walking down the hill. One man, one car – ours. It was a different world.
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Fish Eye Farm 