Settling In (Pt. 4): The End of the Beginning

Our first visitors and the moment we've waited for

Nov 07, 2025

One of the hardest things about moving here was no longer being close to family. I had three different cousins I could visit within an hour’s drive. My direct family was only a three-hour drive away, and they would come into town every few months.

But now that we live in an entirely different country, it’s hard to see any of them. It’s strange how distance makes you notice the small things you took for granted like spontaneous dinners, weekend drives, and familiar voices close by.

Luckily, the same can’t be said for Anita’s family. Since her sister, Grace, is a flight attendant, she is able to visit whenever her schedule is free.

Grace can also get her parents discounted tickets through her airline. Which means we have been lucky enough to see all of her family a few times since we moved here — including the trip we made to Puerto Rico.

When you’re far from home, it helps to remember what drew you there in the first place. Even before we moved here, Costa Rica had already left its mark on us.

During my first trip to Costa Rica, our destination was always clear — the thermal springs at La Fortuna. It’s an amazing city in the mountains on the northern side of Costa Rica with a spectacular view of the Arenal Volcano.

Anita showed me photos from her bachelorette trip, and my mind was blown:

There were cascading waterfalls mixed among the towering trees and plants.
There were bars within the springs so you didn’t even need to leave the water to order.
There were breathtaking views of Arenal Volcano in the background.

It looked like a small slice of paradise.

Still, the moment we stepped into the lobby of Baldi, I realized photos could never do this place justice.

After checking in and getting changed, we walk into the first of many pools.

I walk underneath a rushing waterfall and feel the warm water cascade over my whole body. That was the moment I knew.

“One day we’re going to move here,” I say, half-joking.
“I think you’re right,” Anita replies, taking me more seriously than I took myself.

I guess we were both right, and I’m still not over the fact that we’ve made the biggest, most life-changing move of our lives.

Back then, La Fortuna was just a fantasy — something we swore we’d return to “one day.” Turns out, that day came faster than we ever imagined. Every day I am grateful we are finally in a place where we feel at home and at peace.

Grace returned to visit us in mid-June with her boyfriend Jonathan. And there was one place we knew we needed to go when they visited. That place, of course, was La Fortuna.

So the night after they arrived, we packed our backpacks in eager anticipation of the trip. We were finally returning to the place that made us fall in love with Costa Rica.

We could already picture the clouds rolling over Arenal as we soaked in the warmth of the thermal waters.

Remember when I described a serene scene where Pookie is on a kayak with us? This was his first real taste of Costa Rica — and it was filled with other firsts too.

It was his first time traveling outside his new home of San Jose.
It was the first time he’s ever sat with us at a restaurant.
And it was his first time in a boat on the water.

After a three hour drive, where Pookie spent much of the time either sleeping or sticking his head out the window, we arrive El Castillo — a town just outside La Fortuna.

When we were planning the trip, we wanted to find a place near Lake Arenal so we could go kayaking at the lake while waiting for the Airbnb to be ready. We just didn’t know how Pookie would handle it.

After getting our life vests and paddles, we walk down the rocky path to the dock where the kayaks are tied up.

Anita gets into the kayak and gets settled. Then I hand Pookie to her. He looks concerned, but he’s under the influence of the pill, so he quietly lays down in a little nook in front of her. Finally I get into the front seat, and we paddle out into the lake.

When we lived in Florida, this was a moment we only ever dreamed of. We are traveling with Pookie, going to restaurants and having water adventures with him. He is with us along the way instead of eagerly waiting for us to come back home.

“Can you believe this is our life now?” I ask Anita as we take in the volcano in front of us.
“I never even imagined it,” she says, petting Pookie lovingly.
“I could really get used to this,” I say contemplatively.
“Me too,” she responds as we turn the kayak back around.

This moment at the lake marks the first time I’ve really felt free.

Free from the nine-to-five grind.
Free from divisive politics.
Free from keeping up with the Joneses.

This was the life we imagined from afar: simple, slow, and finally our own. And even now, I remind myself not to take it for granted.

There are a few other stand out moments from our trip to El Castillo and La Fortuna — other than the thermal springs of course. The first are the spectacular views from both the Airbnb we were staying at in El Castillo and a lunch spot nearby. The other was an unexpected taste of nature.

El Castillo is a town that sits along the edge of Lake Arenal and Arenal Volcano. It’s the ideal place to be wowed by the majesty and nature of Costa Rica.

Both our Airbnb and the brunch spot we visited, La Ventanita, had the most spectacular views of the lake. It looks like they could have been taken straight from the pages of a travel catalog.

“One day we’re going to have an Airbnb like this,” Anita says as we take in the view of the lake.
“I hope so,” I replied.
“I know we will,” she says with finality.

After everything we’ve done to make this dream real, I can’t help but believe her.

The other memorable moment from our trip involves a mini roadside detour. While driving back and forth from La Fortuna to El Castillo we kept seeing these striking pink bananas growing along the roadside.

“Are those edible?” Anita asks.
“I’m not sure, let me look,” I say, pulling out my phone.

After a quick search, it turns out they are edible, but aren’t really recommended because of the large seeds.

“They are edible, but they say it’s not worth eating,” I say.

But curiosity gets the best of us. So as we’re leaving El Castillo to drive back home to San Jose, we make one small stop.

“Over there,” Grace says, pointing to some pink banana plants.

Jonathan pulls over and Grace and Anita get out to grab the bananas — while I try to constrain Pookie as he barks at them. After a few minutes of struggling, they return to the car, hands sticky with sap, but with the treasure we’ve all been waiting to try.

Grace sets her phone on the dashboard, everyone starts prying open their bananas, while I’m still struggling with mine.

One by one they split open the peel and take a bite – as I watch their reactions.

“This is awful,” Grace says.
“I don’t think they’re ready,” Jonathan chimes in.

Anita takes a bite then makes the face of someone who’s just eaten a raw potato. I look down at my unpeeled banana and decide against tasting it.

“They’re probably not ripe yet,” I say.

Everyone gives me a look that says, Thanks, Captain Obvious.

We still don’t know whether those bananas sweeten as they ripen. Maybe that’s part of the fun — not knowing, but staying curious enough to try.

Photos we submitted with our residency application

After enjoying some family and relaxation time, we dove head first into completing our residency paperwork. Along with registering with the embassy, there were a few other items on our residency application to-do list.

Get our fingerprints taken at an intimidating police station. Check.
Get our passport sized photos taken in a tiny store across from the embassy. Check.
Establish a Costa Rican bank account for proof of funds… that one took a while.

Our journey opening a Costa Rican bank account as foreigners was a test of time and patience. We even gave our many trips to banks a name: the “Tour de Banks”.

The day we were checking out our different apartment options with Nacho, we asked about his experience with banks. He couldn’t help but laugh. “Just make sure you set aside a whole day,” he chuckled.

Boy was he right.

Going to the bank in the US is annoying but pretty straightforward. Most times you are in and out within minutes or at most an hour.

Even when I was gathering all the paperwork for my proof of income and bank account balance, it only took 30 minutes to get everything I needed.

I never thought I would miss it so much.

A few weeks after we arrived, Lorena got us an appointment at a bank nearby. It’s morning so we should have no problem wrapping up before lunch — or so we thought.

The entrance of the bank has a security guard. Only one person can enter at a time and each person is wanded as they pass through. After passing through security we sit in the first row of chairs in front of the teller booths.

There’s a line of people waiting on the side to talk to someone about their accounts. That line, we learned, is always full. Good thing we aren’t here for that.

A few minutes later we are called up. That’s a good sign. Maybe Nacho was exaggerating the all-day bank trips.

Lorena comes with us to explain our situation. That’s when the mountain of paperwork began.

I am handed over a dozen or so documents to read and sign. Luckily I can read enough Spanish to understand them.

After filling out all the forms the teller tells me I need to deposit some money before they can open the account. Unfortunately I exchanged all my dollars at the airport so I need to withdraw money from the ATM.

I walk outside and find the ATM marked with the dollar sign and withdraw $20. Then I head back inside to give the teller the money.

That should be it I think. But now it’s Anita’s turn. She fills out the same forms and hands them back to the teller.

At this point it’s already been a couple of hours. Surely we’re done now. The woman takes our paperwork to the back to start processing it. And now we play the waiting game.

Ten minutes pass.

Twenty.

Thirty.

“Why are you playing with that?” Anita says pointing at the umbrella.

I’ve been slowly peeling off the layer of dirt on it.

“Just doing something to pass the time…” I say.

An hour or so passes, and finally after about four hours at the bank, the account is set up and we are free to go. Freedom never felt so simple — just a breath of fresh air and the promise we didn’t have to fill out one more form.

Unfortunately our freedom was short lived. Our stops at banks were just beginning.

After that first marathon session, our “Tour de Banks” continued with increasing frustration. We returned multiple times to the original bank: once for our cards and twice for the residency letter they couldn’t seem to produce.

By this time we were regulars. We even joked about asking for stamp cards for all our visits.

That’s when Lorena, feeling the frustration along with us, suggested a new approach: “There’s another bank near the embassy that deals with immigrants regularly.”

This meant transferring funds between banks, yet another banking adventure, but it was worth trying. So we made one last trip to our original bank and transferred our money over.

Now we were finally ready to get the bank letter certifying our funds.

This trip was not as long or as memorable as the others… thank god. And an hour or so later we finally have the last document we need to submit our residency application.

“That was so much better than the other bank,” I say as we are walking back to the car.
“This bank is close to the embassy so they know exactly what they’re doing,” Lorena says.
“We’re just glad the Tour de Banks is over,” Anita says with relief in her voice.

This wouldn’t be our last trip to the bank. We had to go back to fill out some missing paperwork, and went to another branch to pick up a card, but we are finally free of the never ending trips.

If all these bank trips taught me anything, it’s that starting over in a new country isn’t supposed to be simple. It takes patience, perseverance, and learning to see obstacles as part of the story.

A few weeks later Lorena comes to our apartment with our final paperwork for submission. We exit the lobby and greet her happily.

“These are the last papers for your residency application. Everything has been translated already. You just need to give me power of attorney for submission,” Lorena says.

After looking over the paperwork, and triple checking all the information, Anita and I both sign the document.

“Gracias! We couldn’t have done this without you,” Anita says handing the documents back.
“Gracias, we’ll see you in a few weeks for dinner,” I chime in.

After our goodbyes Lorena puts the documents into her folder and drives off. As Lorena drove away with our paperwork, I couldn’t help but think back to those early days in Florida — researching, dreaming, and wondering if we’d ever actually do it.

Back in February, we made the decision to uproot our lives and start over again in a new country. We’ve gone through so much since then:

Months of planning, packing, and selling our stuff.
Endless to-do lists and stacks of paperwork.
Driving across Florida, and dozens of trips here to get all our documents in order.
And many eventful moments along the way.

Now we are officially applying for residency.

It’s a process you’re told is long, bureaucratic, and full of roadblocks, but it’s not something you can ever imagine until you’ve gone through with it yourself. As Anita and I are walking back to the apartment we exchange smiles.

“I’m so glad that’s over,” Anita says, feeling the weight of the process fall off her shoulders.
“Me too, let’s get some cake to celebrate,” I say.

We’ve accomplished so much in such a short time. Now all we can do is wait for approval.

Until then, there’s much more in store for us including more family visits, a trip to Puerto Rico, and finally getting back to creative work. We are finally exiting our initial settling phase and really starting to put down our roots. For the first time, it feels like we’re not just visitors figuring things out — we’re home.