There used to be a road here. There used to be a parking lot. Rains, as is the custom on the jungle-laden Southern Pacific side of Costa Rica, have washed out the old paths to this slice of tropical paradise.
This spot is called Playa Ventanas for a reason—the rocky caves here are like windows overlooking the feverish Pacific's tides. They are also windows into another world, a world where your car is left under the watch of the local farmer's eye, where you walk over muddy paths, freshly-cracked coconut in hand (straw at the ready), to this wide, empty beach, not a soul in sight. The howlers howl. The waves hiss their reply. You set up your blanket, a picnic, and forget how it was you came to get here as well as any care regarding how you'll get home.