Settling In (Pt. 3): Everyday Moments That Make This Home

Finding our rhythm piece by piece

Oct 31, 2025

View of the other tower from the top of our tower

The time has finally come for us to return the rental car. Having a car for the week has been essential in getting us settled in our new home.

It made moving all our stuff from the Airbnb to the new apartment a breeze.
It gave us the chance to buy all of the essentials.
And it allowed us to get all the money we needed for the apartment.

It’s been an essential sidekick in our moving journey.

But before we can return the car, there’s one more adventure in store. Remember the patio furniture set we bought to decorate our sanctuary? It turns out one of the chairs is broken — another hiccup in our pursuit of creating a home here.

The exchange process is short and smooth. We’re in and out in fifteen minutes — a welcome reminder that sometimes things can be simple in Costa Rica.

There’s still a couple of hours left until our car is due back.

“What do you want to do while we still have the car?” Anita asks.
“I’ll look on the map and see what’s around,” I reply.

I look around the map and remember there’s a Chinatown downtown.

“Chinatown is only 10 minutes away from the rental place, we can try going there,” I tell Anita.
“Sounds good,” she says agreeably.

We stop to fill gas on the way, then start heading towards Chinatown. That’s when we’re reminded how much we hate driving in San Jose.

There are people walking out in front of traffic, unworried about getting run over.
Cars still parked along the road. Hazards on.
Cars weaving in and out of traffic. Horns blaring.

By the time we reach Chinatown Anita is over it. “I don’t want to go anymore and worry about parking,” she says.
“Yeah I forgot what a nightmare it is to drive around here,” I say looking at the gate as we drive by.

A few weeks later we finally made our way over to Chinatown. We are devastated when we see the prices of everything.

It’s SO cheap. We could have saved hundreds of dollars if we had come earlier. But now we know, when we need something for the house, check Chinatown first.

After our short Chinatown stop, we arrive at the rental car place and there’s just one thing left to do. We pop open the trunk, pull out the chair, and walk inside to wait for an Uber.

“I am so glad I don’t have to drive anymore,” Anita says relieved.
“Yeah, we won’t have to do that again for a long time,” I say.

A few minutes later our Uber arrives. We put the chair in the trunk, and get inside.

Twenty minutes later we arrive back at the apartment. I slide open the balcony door, place the chair in its rightful spot, and sit down with quiet anticipation.

Our set is finally complete. This balcony, our personal sanctuary, is becoming the retreat we envisioned when we chose this apartment. It provides us a front row view of the concerts across the street and a little place to relax and unwind.

The breeze hits my face, carrying the smell of rain in the distance, and for a brief moment it feels like everything is in place except...

“These need seat cushions,” I say.
“Of course they do,” Anita laughs.

I guess our sanctuary isn’t quite done yet. But that’s the beauty of building a new life. It’s always a work in progress. Each small improvement brings us closer to feeling at home.

Apartment upgrades on one side, pet-parent realities on the other. It all blurred together into this season of settling in.

And poor Pookie has to be over it by now. After a handful of visits back in Florida, another one was the last thing he wanted.

But he has rashes all over his body. There’s no avoiding it.

Luckily Anita is able to find a vet that’s only a 20 minute walk. And if it weren’t for the actual vet visit itself, he would have had a great day.

On the way there we stopped by one of our favorite breakfast spots and gave him a little treat.
We also stopped by a park across the street where he could sniff to his heart’s content.
And on the way back he even got his first grocery store experience – albeit while sleeping.

When it’s Pookie’s time to get checked we hope for the best.

This is definitely one of those moments that would be extremely difficult to navigate without Anita. I can handle everyday situations in Spanish pretty well. But understanding and communicating in medical terms is a whole nother ballgame.

The vet diagnoses Pookie and after a few minutes tells us there’s nothing to be worried about. Pookie had an allergic reaction, and just needs to take some medicine twice a day for the next week. With the help of her assistant she gives Pookie an allergy shot and a chewable pill.

Then the vet hands us his medication and we’re off.

Any emergency vet visit is a stressful situation. Going to a vet in a new country for the first time adds an additional layer of stress. Luckily for us our experience here could not have gone better — and for that we are extremely grateful.

The day of our embassy appointment I remember there are actual documents we need to print for them to certify. I double check the site to see what they actually need from us. That’s when I see it.

Buried in the mountains of text there is a link that says:
Complete the top half of the first page of this affidavit. With the word affidavit linked. This was the document we needed, and they made it nearly impossible to find.

Now we have another issue on our hands. We don’t have a printer.

The first place we think to go is the security office of the apartment building. Surely they have a printer we can use.

We walked down the stairs near the pool and walk into the security office. (Quick aside: remember that keycard issue we had? We fixed it by getting our faces scanned by this office. Now we get in just by showing our faces.)

Anita asks the main security person if we can use their printer for a document. Big negative.

We walk out of the office and start thinking of where we can go. I Google printing places nearby and look for some spots. Meanwhile Anita is texting our lawyer asking her if we can use her printer.

There’s only a couple of hours until our appointment and these are the documents we need to get certified by the embassy.

As we’re getting ready to walk to a nearby printing place, Lorena texts us back.

“Lorena’s going to print them and drop them off,” Anita says relieved.
“What would we do without her?” I say, thankful Lorena is helping us.

Fifteen minutes later Lorena drives by and hands us the documents.

“I printed a couple of copies just in case,” she says. We would in fact need one of those copies.

We thank her as she drives off. Now it’s time to get an Uber and head to the embassy.

We’re back at the fortress but this time we’re here with a purpose.

Before I can press the buzzer a woman greets us and asks the purpose of our visit.

“We have an appointment at 1pm.” I say.
“Come on in,” she says, escorting us inside.

Before we head through the security checkpoint, they tell us that we can’t bring through any electronics. If we need a locker, they have them across the street. My stomach tightens. What if we’ve left something behind? What if this ruins the whole appointment?

Just when we think we’re clear, there’s another obstacle in our way.

We cross the street, rent a locker, and place our watches and phones inside. Then head back to the embassy.

After passing through the initial security scan and a preliminary screening, we are escorted to the main embassy building. I was shocked when I walked inside.

I was expecting a chaotic, bustling room with a long line. But there were only a handful of people waiting ahead of us. Only three of the dozen or so counters were staffed. Relief starts to creep in, but my heart is still racing.

Even though we have an appointment and there are very few people around, I can’t help but feel stressed about the whole situation. What if we came with the wrong paperwork? Is it even possible to get another appointment without waiting another month?

As we’re waiting, I can’t help but hear about everyone’s situations around us. One woman is here because she needs an emergency passport for her flight the next day. The man ahead of us appears to be getting paperwork together for his late wife.

As I’m contemplating the relative simplicity of our situation, we are called up to the window.

“Buenas tardes, how can I help you?,” the woman at the window asks.
“Buenas tardes, we are here to register with the embassy,” Anita responds as she hands over our paperwork.

After looking over the paperwork for a few moments, she explains one of the sections was meant to be filled out by the office. Normally this would be a panicking moment, but luckily Lorena gave us extra copies of the forms. We move over to the side to fill out the form again. Then hand them back to the woman.

“Gracias, we just need to process these. We’ll call you back when it’s ready,” she says.

We walk back over to the chairs to wait.

“I hope everything is good now,” I say to Anita.
“It is,” Anita reassures me.

At the window ahead of us is a couple with their baby. They’re here to get a passport for her.

We didn’t say anything to each other, but Anita and I look at each other. This is exactly what our children will need to do if we have them in the future.

After the couple wraps up, we are called to the same window. The man has our completed paperwork in front of him. After some explanation he begins our certification.

“Do you certify that all the information you’ve presented is true?” he asks.

“I do,” we each say.

“Welcome to Costa Rica,” he says stamping our paperwork.

At this moment two things are going through my head.

One –- we are at the point of no return.
Two — compared to the US, this is calm. Weird, but true.

It’s a strange feeling being in a place where you’re still learning the language, where you have no family to lean on, where you’re starting over.

But comparing our deer in the headlights first days to now, we can see how far we’ve come.

Each adventure, each obstacle overcome, becomes part of our new life here. And bit by bit, the pieces fell into place, and for the first time we could actually feel ourselves settling in.

From panic about getting through customs with Pookie to confidently navigating vet visits.
From crashing at our temporary landing spot at Secrt to creating our balcony sanctuary.
These are the memories that mark the beginning of our Costa Rican chapter.

Of course, our adventures didn’t stop with embassy stamps and patio chairs. Between the bank tour and family visits, we were constantly learning the ropes. But every little victory, like finally arranging our balcony just right, reminds us that Costa Rica is starting to feel like home.