Ruins of El Miro…
Atop a mountain, beyond the beach…
On one of many beautiful days during my month's stay in Costa Rica, I ventured off to Jaco {pronounced with an ‘H’}, a beach town about a two-hour drive from San Jose, bustling with tourists and shops galore. It reminded me of the Florida coast, where the streets are lined with souvenir stores and ‘one-of-a-kind’ shops, hoping each visitor will stop in for a quick peek and purchase.
During my four-day visit to this quaint beach town on the Pacific side of Costa Rica, my girlfriend purchased us an unforgettable sunset horse excursion. I had ridden horses on the beach before, but never had I experienced anything like this! From one of the main roads getting into and out of Jaco Beach, a paved path goes up into the dense jungle. It is steep, and at first glance, I wondered how this horse would make it.
Up, up and away…
we went, single file line {or as much as my horse would adhere to the rules as he was a rebel and wanted to go and do things his way the entire time} through rich, lush, abundant, and dense trees…the jungle. The paved path quickly turned to rocky, steep dirt trails, but the horses were clearly used to them and maneuvered skillfully. Humidity and thickness filled the air but didn’t capture much of our attention, as the beauty was a sight to behold.
Murals, which at one point had been brightly painted - palm trees, ancient people, animals, and symbols - some of which vaguely remained noticeable on the rock walls, could still be made out… Branches fell low, requiring us to duck, as the horses made their way onward.
The trees are the greenest of greens…like emeralds, swaying back and forth, and have stood the test of time like a strong family.
We reached multiple viewpoints where dilapidated, artfully embellished pilasters and arches with cobblestone-floor balconies decorated the overlooks…like looking down from heaven onto the beach below…simply breathtaking. We stopped for water breaks and photo-ops and then continued moving forward…upward.
We arrived at a fork where the dirt path ended, and a broken concrete one began. Crumbled white tiles with grass growing between the broken places lay where a floor once was, and soiled, moss-covered pillars lined one side. Before veering to the left, Beto, our guide, took a moment to tie up our horses as we set off on foot for this next part, explaining what we were about to see.
The anticipation was overwhelming.
We each listened as he explained the history - a Yugoslavian man who hoped to build his home and a restaurant died from cancer before the project could be completed and donated all of this mountainous land to the people of Jaco…or so the story is told.
As we started our walking journey down this path, I could see a break in the greenery, but it wasn’t until we came upon the ruins against the ocean background that my breath was taken from me…it was vivid!
A three-story architectural anomaly!
What was once white and pristine, I’m sure, was now covered…and I mean covered…in captivating graffiti!
Every color of the rainbow enveloped each level…each pillar, archway, and wall was painted with murals of aliens, rockets, faces, animals, and words! Some art was more meticulous and defined, while others were splashes of intention, leaving the viewer to determine its form.
It was spectacular!
Two teen girls sat on the rail, overlooking the beach on the second level, chatting as teens do and blasting their music speaker. I was enjoying it equally initially, but when Rihanna’s voice began singing from the speakers, I knew the universe wanted me to have a theme song during my visit!
I started dancing!
Immediately, I could tell by how they stared at me that they saw me as a crazy and unnecessary American lady, bringing attention to myself by dancing, singing, and recording myself with my phone. I laughed, smiled at them, and continued to laugh aloud as I could see the disgust on their faces. I said, “Muchos gracias!” to them and placed my hand on my heart. It was sincere, but they sat stoic, still annoyed by my presence.
I’m sure I had some of them in me when I was their age…judging and eye-rolling at every adult over 30 because that meant they were officially old. Ha! Oh, to be 30 again...I didn’t care then, and I don’t care now.
One day, when they have lived long enough and been through what I have…or maybe even a piece of it…they will hear their jam in a public place and, at age 50, throw their hands up and dance because they made it through.
They will realize that they are finally alive.
I felt free.
I looked free.
I am free.
I found an even more significant, deeper part of myself atop El Miro in Jaco, an extraordinary moment I will forever keep, and a striking horse-ridden sunset to boot!
Oh what an enchanting experience!! Your freedom and joy is contagious and I absolutely loved reading about Jaco through your lens! I wish I had known about the town when I was in Costa Rica, but I’ll definitely have to check it out next time. Haha, I love the story about the teenagers—I hope one day they can dance like you too, simply because of the joy of life 🤍 You are fabulous at 50!
Beautiful experience. Thanks for sharing.