At Thirty-eight years old, I boarded the plane with a friend I had met less than 4 months ago. Years prior to this, the idea of travelling to Central America with someone I hardly knew, without my husband or daughter by my side, would be unheard of. Travel had always been a dream of mine, a distant itch that I believed I would never quite reach, a cloud passing by on a sun-filled day. Yet here I was, embarking on a serendipitous adventure, stepping so far out of my comfort zone that it would be impossible not to grow, or ever go back to who I once was.
Our destination – Costa Rica, a place my heart had always longed to see, with its rich rain forests, and exotic fauna. I yearned to smell the wet ground, and feel the humid air on my skin. My friend and travel partner had planned an adventure tour for us, involving things that would shatter the self created walls of my fears, zip lining, rainforest exploration, hanging bridge tours and hot springs fed directly from the Arenal volcano. I did it all, one by one muting the oily resistance of my misgivings, discovering what the pure life or Pura Vida, really meant. But for me, the cardinal moment in this venture of independence was Catarata Fortuna.
An early morning adventure, within our adventure tour, began with the hailing of a local cab in search of the La Fortuna waterfall. With just our broken Spanish and a few colones, we soon arrived at the welcoming mouth of a steep downward terrain of stone steps. Inlaid along an embankment brimming with vast ceiba trees and their lush greenery, decorated with shocks of bright yellows and oranges, the makeshift stairs led us toward the base of the waterfall. As we descended deeper into the rainforest, the sweltering air created a film on our skin, causing our clothing to cling limply to our bodies, as the fresh scent of earth surrounded us and the roar of the water drew nearer. With each step I thought of what I had already experienced, eating Gallo Pinto every morning for breakfast, travelling unmarked roads, hearing fat raindrops land on the canopy of leaves above my head yet never reaching my body. I thought of what I had accomplished, I thought of what I had learned.
More than four hundred steps twisted their way through the dense foliage, filled with calls of exotic birds, and led us to the base of a two hundred and forty five foot magnificent cascade. In that moment, standing small before the wild rush of water, feeling the cold bite of its spray on my hot skin, five thousand kilometers away from my family, I felt I had descended into heaven. My dream had become a reality.
I had never felt so free.
Staring at the face of the falls, admiring the sheer force and beauty of nature before me, I understood my existence as it related to that moment. Like the Catarata, I too was a strong and ever renewing force. My reflection rippled and broke in the riffle of the clear emerald pool. As we rested, drinking up the sunshine and our favorite Costa Rican beers, I could not help but to watch proudly as my comfort zone tumbled into the foamy white water, and floated away from me, forever. This, was Pura Vida.
About the Author: Coralee Boileau is a Pediatric Intensive Care Registered Nurse, wife, mother, and avid writer, recently bitten by the travel bug. Her future travel plans include France and Italy in early fall of 2014.
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An excellent author. Would love to see more of Coralee’s writing.