Puntarenas, less than two hours from San José, is the ocean front playground closest to the capital city. Years ago, the rich came for fun to this sea town built on a peninsula that extends into the Golf of Nicoya.

Puntarenas still offers its shores to vacationers, visitors and fishermen; however over the decades, the rich took their money and left for higher ground. The beaches became polluted; the town became poorer and depression moved in.




I had spent an afternoon in Puntarenas once years ago and the town seemed deserted. I had heard good things were happening to the town recently, so I decided to return.

If I want my daughter to sleep, I take her OUT of the car. I braced myself for the two hour drive over the mountains to Puntarenas and loaded the car with squeaky toys and a bottle of breast milk on ice. I strapped my five month-old daughter into the car seat. She looked like an astronaut before take off. I felt like the experimental mouse.




Police officers stand on the side of the road on the autopistas (highways) of Costa Rica waiting for subjects to pass by. They lean against their cars waiting to pull drivers over. Some point radar guns, some just lean. About 15 kilometers out of the city, a police officer (not holding a radar gun) eyed our car.




“Don’t look at them!” my husband said, further instructing me to look instead at the goat grazing on the right. “They pull you over if you look at them.”

I focused my gaze to the goat on the right, but feared because we were the only car on the road and were an easy target. My husband had the registration papers and his driver’s license out before the car came to a stop. A small miracle had occurred – my daughter had just fallen asleep. She awoke when the wheels stopped and before the police officer reached the car.




Our papers were in order, and the officer waved us on. My daughter cried and screamed the rest of the trip.




The port town before Puntarenas is poor. The train tracks (when the train is running) travels a few kilometers through the long narrow town. The Costa Rica Yacht Club anchors in a harbor before Puntarenas. In Puntarenas the main industry has been, and still is, fishing. But the tourism industry is on the rise. A new pier has been constructed to attract cruise ships.

Restaurants now line the ocean front, souvenir vendors set up booths to sell their wares, and hotels have put a polish on their facades.

We parked the car under a tree near the cement boardwalk that followed the curve of the peninsula. We unloaded the stroller, the baby sling, towels, drinking water, sunscreen, clothes, bathing suits and my daughter. We settled on a soda (refreshment stand). I was already sweating, and my thighs immediately stuck to the white plastic lawn furniture.




After quickly downing two iced teas, I peeled my thighs from the chair to find a bathroom. Behind the soda, a teenager with a fluorescent green shirt managed the latrine and charged me thirty-cents to get in.




We walked the boardwalk, passing a long line of vendors dangling t-shirts, jewelry and sunglasses and chose a restaurant with an perfect ocean view.





We ate big, succulent shrimp sauteed in garlic and kept cool from the ocean wind. When I had visited Puntarenas a few years ago, the town seemed empty.

No one was selling anything to tourists. By noon, our restaurant was almost full. The beach began to swell with swimmers and soccer players kicking up the sand.

In the distance, the pier stretched like an arm into the water. Cruise ships have played a big part in revitalizing the tourism industry. The government was so enthusiastic about the incoming ships that it constructed a cement community building to house all the vendors. The vendors (who prefer to sell on the beach front) don’t use the building, and it sits empty – but it looks nice. Maybe they use it in the rainy season.




I opened a white umbrella for shade. The wind fought me for it, turning it inside out, so I gave up and just walked. The shoreline across the Golf of Nicoya looked like an oil painting. The surf pulsed a wave under each step I took. I perused the vendors and bought a baseball hat for my daughter for a dollar. The cap had ears, glued on eyes, and a piece of red felt for a mouth.





The heat had taken a lot out of our little group. My daughter’s bald head was sweating through her new hat. We shook the sand from our sandals and towels and packed up for home. Time had taken a lot out of Puntarenas, but the town is beginning to surface from the thick fog of depression – revitalized and breathing again.

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Andrew Makarik

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Andrew Makarik is the main editor of WeLoveCostaRica, a fan of this sunny country. He is also a loving husband and a has a lovely daughter. By being a devoted family man and the biggest Costa Rica fan, he wants to make more people feel at home there. WeLoveCostaRica unites people and helps them find new home or a new travel destination. This website is a friendly community where everyone can find not only information, but also new friends and travel pals. Andrew is also passionate about IT and programming, so he himself maintains a friendly atmosphere in this cozy environment of WeLoveCostaRica.com.