Costa Rica: A NEW DAWN

Arriving at Tiskita Jungle Lodge in pitch blackness during a thundery tropical downpour, I flinched at fruit-bats that were sinisterly backlit by phosphorene flashes of lightning. Even if Count Dracula never materialised, my hairs still prickled at the tumble-dryer roar of the unseen ocean while the relentless electrocardiogram ping of tree-frogs synced with my quickening pulse. It seemed only fitting that later, during dinner, a glossy boa slithered into the lounge and took residency between the armchairs.

My senses were on overdrive. Any lingering demons I’d had about travelling during these strange times were quickly supplanted during the wildest night imaginable in Costa Rica.

And still fright night wasn’t over in this south-western corner of Costa Rica. Pre-sunrise, the jungle’s blood-curdling baritones, howler monkeys, awoke me with their simian rendition of ‘Nessun dorma’, which continued until the first crack of sunrise seeped into my wooden cabin. The smell of damp soil rose alongside an amplifying crescendo of birdsong. The tropics’ vivid resurrection after darkness, had begun. A resurrection too, for my soul after lockdown; I had come to Costa Rica seeking the uplifting joyousness that nature can provide; at the same time I was curious as to how I would feel about long-haul travel during a global pandemic?

Pacific parrots

Costa Rica certainly feels like a perfect antidote against the coronavirus blues. The country breathes truth into the label ‘eco-paradise’, the force of its nature is affecting enough to convert a dyed-in-the-wool climate change sceptic into a card-carrying member