THE WORLD IS CHANGED BY YOUR EXAMPLE, NOT BY YOUR OPINION

PAOLO COELHO

DRAKE BAY. It's 3:33 in the afternoon, 33 degrees, and I'm just peeling myself out of 3 pairs of socks because the wellies are far too big.

Still, I can only pat myself on the back for accepting Sarah's offer of wellies, as I wouldn't have got very far today in my mid-height waterproof hiking boots. With a few friends and locals, who everyone here affectionately calls "Ticos", we roamed the incredibly beautiful, untouched nature of the Primary Forest here directly adjacent to Corcovado National Park, armed with machetes (to get through at all) and - rubber boots. We repeatedly climbed up and down steep slopes, waded through rivers, jumped from rock to rock, bathed in meter-deep pools and stood under three incredibly beautiful, thundering waterfalls. So much for the number three. I'll tell you about the three-meter-long boa constrictor later.

Christmas time here in Costa Rica is so different from back home in Düsseldorf. The colors, I don't think there's anything gray here. In the middle of the rainforest you can find the most colorful flowers everywhere. It's as if an English garden architect in the 18th century had put his hand to everything here. In the last two years, I've mainly been here in the rainy season. Now, in December, it's summer here, and apart from the morning dew on the fleshy leaves and flowers, on the blades of grass that are far too thick and the wings of those blatant flying beetles that are almost as big as the cars of the same name, it's pretty dry here. There are twinkling Christmas trees everywhere, much more colorful than at home, of course, and Spanish folklore music from a can - that's something.

I spent the first week with my cousin Karl and his wonderful wife Ximena, went swimming at the country club with my 90-year-old uncle Vinzenz and, thanks to Karl, I now have my own car here. Car rental is incredibly expensive here, and I need a 4x4, because the south of the country is wild, very wild, you have to be able to cross rivers and master the steepest unpaved roads. To get here from Perez Zéledon, to Osa Peninsula, Waze (the navigation system of Central America) sent me over a 2,500 m high mountain. 

By the time I realized it, it was too late. After an experience in January 2022, when I got stuck in a cluster of houses north of San José, I had sworn to myself that I would only drive on roads with bus stops. I had to drive backwards for 2.5 kilometers. The hill was too steep and it was too narrow to turn around. Needless to say, it was an unpaved gravel road and I was shaking like a leaf the whole time. The collection of houses that taught me to be humble in the face of the topography was called BERLIN. You can search for it on Google Maps. Since then, I've always looked to see if there are any bus stops. I think to myself, if a bus can make it this far, then my car can too.

Last week's route from Pérez Zeledón to the Museo Finca 6, which is located at the beginning of Osa Peninsula, was idyllic and very close to nature, and from kilometer to kilometer it slowly and almost imperceptibly became an even bigger imposition than BERLIN 2022. At some point, I was already quite tense and stopped at a fork in the road where I could only see a green wall. The winding, narrow path was folded up like a Dutch bridge, completely overgrown with greenery and barely recognizable as a road. A good horse wouldn't have mastered it. Maybe a donkey. I turned back again.

The alternative was harmless in comparison, until my new, faithful car suddenly found itself in front of a 300-meter-long, narrow, homemade suspension bridge. I really don't remember exactly how I managed that. But every time I think about it, I get a funny feeling.

Nevertheless, I am happy to be here. I'm looking for a place where I can bring my Rainforest Academy to life. A place where the magic of nature can unleash its full power on my students. A place where, in order to get there, everyone has to completely step out of their familiar life. To reconnect with something completely different. I have already looked at many projects throughout the country on this trip, in the "Blue Zone" in the dry and hot Guanacaste, where there are the most 100-year-old people on earth, in the cool mountains north of San José surrounded by national parks, in the agricultural Pérez Zeledón, but I am always drawn back here to Osa Peninsula, where there is the greatest biodiversity on earth here in Corcovado National Park.

Now it's time to evaluate and compare the many beautiful properties and make a decision at some point. But first I'm going to take a break and relax. The last 2 weeks have been very intense and eventful, the days long and active. In Santa Ana (the town in the greater San José area where Karl and Ximena live), there was mulled wine (from shot glasses) from "our" Berlin at the Christmas market, a small consolation for not being able to stand with you at Burgplatz this year. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas season with real mulled wine from proper mugs, surrounded by our unique, incomparable gray, with lots of fun Christmas parties, goose dinners and o du fröhliche.