Finding Our Rhythm (Pt. 1): Becoming the Guides

The moment we stopped feeling like newcomers

Nov 21, 2025

Moving to Costa Rica has come with its fair share of surprises. From grocery price sticker shock to residency paperwork challenges at every step. All the little things that remind you you’re not in your old life anymore. But overcoming all those challenges has made this place feel more like home.

Once we finally settled into a rhythm here, we were finally able to show Anita’s parents the new lives we are building here. Their visit ended up being one of those weeks that sticks with you: two big communal meals, another trip to La Fortuna, and showing them our favorite spots in San Jose.

Having her parents here felt like a milestone. It was a shift from “we just moved to Costa Rica” to “we live here now.” We were no longer the newcomers needing guidance. We were the ones providing it.

The day Anita’s parents were arriving, we had a dinner planned at our apartment with them, Lorena, and Nacho. This was our chance to show her family the wonderful people who helped us get settled here.

That meant a trip to Avenida 10, our chaotic but beloved grocery spot, because they had everything we needed for our dinner.

While we’re grabbing some drinks from the boba shop inside the store Anita gets a message.

“My parents just landed. They will be on the way to the apartment soon,” she says.

“I guess we better wrap up then,” I respond, between bites of the boba pearls.

When we left, we thought we had enough time to make it back for their arrival but we must have miscalculated. Now we’re in a mad dash to the finish.

We scramble from section to section grabbing what we need: plantains for mofongo, cups, plates, and drinks. We even have to do a small ingredient swap since they don’t have chicharron — a shocking discovery!

“They’re 15 minutes away, we’ll have to hurry and take an Uber back” Anita says while we’re waiting in the checkout line.
“We don’t really have a choice, we’ll get there when we get there,” I say trying to calm her nerves.

After checking out, we pack up all our supplies into our trusty cart, and head outside.

Usually this is the point where we would go to the shuttle area and get a free ride back. But today we don’t have that luxury.

A few minutes later our Uber arrives. It only takes 10 minutes to get back.

When we arrive, Anita’s parents are patiently waiting in the lobby.

“How long have you been waiting?” Anita asks.

“Just a few minutes,” her mom responds.

Anita always wants to make a good impression as a host. Even if that just means being there when her parents arrive from the airport.

That’s one of the things I love most about her. She always wants to put her best foot forward. She’s going to be an incredible owner of a bed and breakfast.

Having Lorena and Nacho here has been such a gift. Even after finding our home and guiding us through the residency maze, they didn’t just disappear. They kept checking in, offering advice, and reminding us we weren’t figuring out this new life alone.

So that first night, when Anita’s parents arrived, it felt right to bring everyone together. We made a big Puerto Rican dinner including mofongo and flan. We also filled the table with stories of how we met Lorena and Nacho, how they helped us through the early chaos, and all the tiny things that made settling here possible.

That dinner represented something important. When we got here, we didn’t know anyone. Now that we’ve spent so much time with Lorena and Nacho, our connections feel deep enough to call them family. And the apartment wasn’t just where we live now. Surrounded by all these people, it felt like we were truly hosting in our home.

The next night brought a completely different vibe. That’s when we got the rental car for our trip to, you guessed it, La Fortuna.

At this point, it’s basically a rite of passage for anyone who comes to Costa Rica. My parents went with us back in 2023, and now it was Anita’s parents’ turn.

We’d just finished an incredible lunch of Olla de Carne, a traditional Costa Rican soup, at Lorena’s house. And she was kind enough to drop us off at the rental center afterward. Everything was going smoothly—until it wasn’t.

While we’re filling out the paperwork, the guy behind the counter looks up and asks for the driver’s passport.

We all glance at Anita’s dad.

No passport.

So Anita’s mom has to rent the car.

No problem. She signs the papers, grabs the keys, and we all pile in for the short ride home.

Halfway there, Anita leans over and whispers, “Record this. We have to send it to Grace.”

I pull out my phone, film a quick clip of her mom driving, and send it to our group chat.

Seconds later, Grace replies:

“Why is she driving omg?? That’s dangerous!”

We can’t stop laughing.

A few minutes later, we pull safely into the parking garage. When we get back to the apartment Anita’s dad sends the rental company his passport via WhatsApp, and just like that, the Great Driver Crisis of 2025 comes to an end.

There was another mini adventure the next day — this time involving food. This was one of those moments Anita’s parents would share in some of the frustrations of living here.

During lunch with Lorena, she told us about a great spot to eat on the way to La Fortuna. So that’s exactly where we’re headed.

We pull up to a parking lot a block from the restaurant and make our way over.

“Looks like it’s not open yet,” Anita says, peering through the gated entrance.

“We can walk around and find a spot nearby,” she adds.

It’s a Saturday morning, so the square is full of people. But as we walk block by block, the only thing we find is a McDonald’s.

“Let’s just head back to the car and drive to another breakfast place,” Anita’s mom suggests.

Back at the car, I take on my usual role as food scout.

“There’s a Denny’s nearby,” I say, knowing Anita’s dad loves their breakfast.

While scrolling through the menu, I’m shocked by the prices.

“Regular breakfast items are 10k colones. That’s about $20 for a Grand Slam,” I say in disbelief.

“Nevermind then. See what local options are nearby,” Anita replies.

A few minutes later, I find a restaurant just down the road. Anita puts the name into the GPS, and we’re on our way.

When we arrive, we’re surrounded by warehouse buildings.

“I don’t think this is right,” Anita says, looking at the map.

We circle back. Still nothing.

That’s the thing about Costa Rica. Google Maps aren’t always up to date or accurate. Sometimes you’ll end up lost among warehouses… or inside a residential building looking for a craft store. (A story for another day.) But you learn to live with it — Pura Vida style.

At this point, we’re all thinking the same thing.

“Forget it,” Anita says, laughing. “Let’s just go to McDonald’s.”

And that’s how we ended up getting our first taste of McDonald’s in Costa Rica. Just remember, if you’re ever in a situation where things aren’t working out as planned, you can always turn towards something familiar for comfort.

After a very unmagical breakfast adventure that ended at McDonald’s, the next day brought a completely different surprise. That’s the thing about Costa Rica, there’s always a surprise in store.

That’s when we came face-to-face with a 15-foot grandma on a restaurant roof.

If you drive around La Fortuna you are bound to find it. The restaurant sticks out like a sore thumb.

There are a lot of reasons to pick a restaurant. A giant grandma on the roof shouldn’t be one of them. But sometimes you just have to trust your gut.

I wasn’t expecting much. I figured it was going to be one of those cool theme, mediocre food, deals. But the moment we stepped inside, I was pleasantly surprised.

The whole place is open air, and by the time we reach our table at the back, we’ve got a panoramic view of a hotel tucked into the trees.

The menus are shaped like Abuela herself. I immediately spot the french toast. It arrives looking like something you need to post immediately on Instagram, and thankfully it tastes just as good.

But the real magic happens upstairs.

Our waiter appears and offers to take us to the rooftop. We follow him up the stairs, not expecting much… and walk straight into a full garden.

Fruit trees labeled with wooden tags.

A spread of ornamental plants I’ve seen all over Costa Rica.

It feels like stepping into some kind of hidden rooftop farm.

Our waiter tells us stories about the plants, how the garden came to be, and of course, the tale of the giant Luisita statue. Apparently she was imported in pieces and assembled right here on the roof. I love every minute of it.

Then he points to the stairs along the statue.

“You can actually climb up to the top,” he says.

The moment I’ve been waiting for.

I ask Anita if she can go down to the parking lot to take pictures while her mom and I climb to the top. When she snaps the photo, I’m grinning from ear to ear.

The moment I didn’t know I was looking for

Standing atop that quirky statue, I realized how much had changed. Just months earlier, we would have been too intimidated to venture off-course. Now we were confidently finding hidden gems to share with others.

We never used to fall for a gimmick. But sometimes you just have to trust the pull and follow it. You never know what’s waiting at the top of the stairs.

There were also plenty of small moments during Anita’s family’s visit that stuck with me way longer than you’d expect. These were some of my favorites.

At Baldi’s hot springs, one of us lost a towel during dinner. Anita’s parents spent the rest of the night bringing it up, even though the lost-towel fee was only $10.

Grace arrived the same day we had brunch at Abuela’s restaurant, so we killed some time at the mall next to the airport. Pookie had his own adventure there. He pooped on the floor of Circuit City and refused to walk near the escalators because he could see the ground through the glass walls.

While eating at an ice cream place called Pops, a cockroach sprinted across the floor. We headed straight for the exit.

At Fabrica, a restaurant Nacho recommended, we ordered a few pizzas. They turned out to be flat-crust style, and Anita’s dad didn’t want to eat them because you couldn’t fold the slices. Watching him try anyway had all of us laughing.

With each place we took Anita’s parents, I noticed our evolution from wide-eyed newcomers to confident guides. I also realized you don’t need extraordinary moments for them to matter. You just need the right people next to you while they’re happening.

And there have been plenty of other moments here — cultural festivals, new routines, our favorite spots, and slowly getting comfortable with Spanish. All tiny pieces of building a life here. I can’t wait to share those too.