The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - Travel
Oh, to be as happy as a hummingbird…
Not for nothing are the people of Costa Rica ranked as the most contented on Earth. Oliver Smith enjoys the ‘pura vida’ and marvels at a wildlife wonder
It took until the penultimate day of my Costa Rican adventure before I witnessed what passes for a Tico having a tantrum. Crawling at a snail’s pace in a long line of traffic behind a trucker who wouldn’t move aside, my softly spoken driver calmly said: “This lorry should pull over – it’s not very nice to make us all wait.” He sighed gently, then added: “I’m sorry for losing my temper.”
I chuckled then, and again 48 hours later when – as I enjoyed the sun on a bank holiday bike ride back in Blighty – a red-faced van driver, forced to pause momentarily before overtaking me, screamed out the window: “Get out of the f------ way!” Welcome home.
The only thing Costa Rica shouts about, as I learned in my fortnight there, is its easy-going ethos. “Pura vida” – “pure life” – is the national motto, and you’ll find it plastered on posters and holiday brochures. But it is far more than a marketing gimmick. The Ticos and Ticas – as the locals call themselves – say it when greeting friends and proclaim it to strangers in the street. Moreover, they live by it. Don’t sweat the small stuff, stay positive, appreciate simple pleasures – and definitely steer clear of road rage.
Pura vida helps explain why this country tops the Happy Planet Index, a ranking of nations that ignores soulless metrics like GDP in favour of “sustainable well-being for all”. Britain languishes in 34th position.
I read about the index before setting foot in Costa Rica, and I was sceptical. The world’s happiest country? Not first thing in the morning, I’ll bet, or when the trains are cancelled.
Not so. Even the slightly unattractive, traffic-clogged capital, San José,
where UK travellers must begin their journey, had a cheerful buzz. Reggaeton blared from car windows, mothers hurried giggling children along the streets, road workers toiling in 86F (30C) heat laughed merrily.
I took to quizzing cabbies, tour guides and bar staff about Costa
Rica’s status as the planet’s most contented place. The replies were eerily unanimous. “Yes! It really is true,” beamed one resident. “We are different here from the rest of Central America – just go to Panama and see, they are so rude!”
Another explained: “We are happy with what we have, even if it isn’t much – so we are friendly, we don’t argue and we never fight.”
Indeed, pacifism is enshrined in the constitution. Seventy years ago Costa Rica abolished its army and today, as the most populous country on Earth without a standing military, it is home to the United Nations University for Peace and the Inter-American Court of Human Rights. This further explains its supremacy in the Index.
The final factor is environmental. Instead of spending billions on defence, Costa Rica safeguards its natural wonders. More than a quarter of the country is national park, nearly all its electricity comes from renewable sources, and it aims to be entirely carbon neutral by 2021. When it comes to plastics, it is streets ahead. Recycling is taught in schools, and the bars and bathrooms of its many eco-hotels are free of plastic straws and little bottles of shampoo. How can that not make you happy?
Its good-natured human residents certainly proved to be a highlight, but like most visitors I was lured to Costa Rica by the rainforests and animals these environmental policies help protect. After a night in San José, I made tracks for the wilderness.
My first stop was Tortuguero, a four-hour journey east by minibus and water taxi – or 25 minutes if you fly. I chose the latter, a mildly frightening experience that saw us skirt a volcano before touching down on a tiny rain-swept runway squeezed improbably on to a narrow sandbar; river on one side, Caribbean on the other.
The island is home to a small village, and there are a handful of resorts nearby. Beyond that, for many miles, there’s nothing but jungle crisscrossed by a vast network of rivers, creeks and lagoons. It’s a barely touched playground for sloths, monkeys, big cats, and the creatures which gave the town its name – turtles.
Four species, including leatherbacks and greens, come to lay their eggs on the beaches of Tortuguero while nosy tourists coo from a respectful distance. Alas, nesting takes place in summer and hatching in early autumn, so winter and spring visitors like us must make do with other animal encounters.
A boat trip offered plenty. Over a few hours, helped by an eagle-eyed guide, I saw a basking boa constrictor, an alligator guarding a mud bank with its mouth agape, a northern jacana, with its impossibly large feet, wading in the shallows, and a troop of white-headed capuchins chasing one another in the treetops. Snoozing in the mangroves, hidden from all but my guide, was a boat-billed heron – colossal of beak – and I marvelled at the gruesome close-up drama of a tiny green vine snake trying to swallow a gecko.
But some of the most rewarding encounters took place on the doorstep
‘We are happy with what we have, even if it isn’t much – so we never fight’