It all started before we even left the country, because apparently no Misel trip can start normal. Just as we boarded our flight out of Columbus, the damn plane caught fire. A full-blown evacuation before we’d even shoved off. Not exactly the relaxing tropical getaway vibe we were expecting. A day late and already questioning our life choices, we finally touched down in Liberia, grabbed our trusty Land Cruiser rental, and set out for Arenal Volcano.
There we found redemption: perfect hot springs, a room with a private hot tub, all with volcano views, and suspension bridge jungle walks straight out of a travel magazine. Also: food. So. Much. Food. Costa Rica knows how to feed people and we didn’t say no once.
From the volcano to the coast, we made our way to Playa Conchal to meet up with Mom and Auntie. Days were filled with exploring local towns, stuffing our faces, and hunting down the legendary Witch’s Rock. Everyone swore it was right off Tamarindo, you know, just sitting out there in the waves. Except it wasn’t. We sat there, squinting into the surf, and realized we were just a bunch of idiots eating nachos as big as our ass in the wrong place. Turns out the real Witch’s Rock was a three-hour jungle detour near the Nicaraguan border. Most people would’ve said, “oh well.” We said, “let’s go.”
Enter the Land Cruiser. A rough ride over miles of rocks, dirt, and jungle later, we rolled onto the wildest, emptiest beach you’ve ever seen. Waves crashing, monkeys everywhere, the legendary Witch’s Rock towering in the surf. It was like walking into a postcard until a massive cougar decided to stroll across the trail on our way out, just to remind us who was boss.
After Mom and Auntie flew home, we weren’t done yet. We signed on for a sunset sailing cruise, snorkeling, drinks flowing, food that made you consider selling everything and moving aboard the boat permanently. And to top it all off, a jungle river cruise packed with every creature you could dream of. Monkeys leaping overhead, bats lurking in the shadows, crocodiles by the dozen, and the infamous “Jesus Lizard” sprinting across the water like it was auditioning for a reality show.
What started with a flaming plane turned into one of the wildest, most unforgettable adventures we’ve ever had, equal parts comedy, chaos, and pure Costa Rican magic.
Moto-Misel 