Trips with my father are rarely the result of long-term planning. Sure, a lengthy amount of time is spent researching possible destinations—this happens to be one of his favorite activities.  When all this brainstorming finally boils down to a chosen location, however, little time is left for the necessary plane and hotel bookings. It came as little surprise, then, when I found myself arriving home for spring break, only to repack my belongings and catch an afternoon flight the following day to Costa Rica.

I knew little about this small Central-American country, but thankfully my father proceeded to give me a whirlwind lesson in everything Costa Rican, rapidly offering up facts with from his newly-purchased travel guide. Armed with this information, a few pairs of shorts, and some t-shirts, we touched down in Costa Rica’s major city of San Jose. Reunited with my brother Tom who had flown out from school in California to meet us, we headed to our hotel before departing (the following day) to the town of La Fortuna.

Driving from place to place in Costa Rica is easier said than done. On a map, the country doesn’t look especially big. And, at roughly 180 miles from Caribbean Coast to the Pacific, our passage from San Jose north to La Fortuna appeared a relatively minor undertaking. Five hours later, we realized that we were sorely mistaken. In fact, attempting the trip without the help of our guide might not have gotten us any farther than the outskirts of San Jose.

Besides an extensive network of backcountry roads not found on any map, the terrain ranged from narrow, pothole-ridden paths along winding rivers to nail-biting ascents over mountain ridges layered with vast, impenetrable forest. We stopped here and there quickly to take snapshots of the view, only to find ourselves lingering by the roadside, enveloped with new sights and sounds that bombarded our senses from all sides. If it wasn’t for the persistent chugging of the old safari van idling behind us, I might have felt like I’d been brought backwards in time. My father broke the silence by humming "Do You Know the Way to San Jose,” a song he cleverly associated with our initial destination.

Perhaps the best-kept secret about Costa Rica lies inland, away from the popular beaches and surf hangouts. Here one can find bustling towns—such as La Fortuna—situated on the doorstep of lush tropical forest, ripe for exploring. “The Fortunate Town" gets its name from its unique location in the northern region of Costa Rica, nestled near the base of the picturesque Volcan Arenal, one of the world’s most active volcanoes. Numerous eruptions in years past devastated towns and villages lying within miles of Arenal, and the mountain’s massive base is always visible from the porch of our rented cabin on the edge of town. It looms upward, jagged summit often obscured by thick clouds. Much of the lush forest, once plentiful on all sides of the cone, has vanished, replaced by ominous layers of dirt and debris from unrelenting mudslides. La Fortuna has escaped these catastrophes, leading gracious villagers to name it “The Fortunate Town."

Our next stop was Manuel Antonio, where we traded our shorts and hiking boots for flip-flops and swim trunks. A cab deposited us smack in the center of Playa Espadilla, an idyllic wedge of sand and surf haven for locals and tourists alike. A few paces out onto the sand, I paused to absorb the scene in front of me. Tom was already shirtless and halfway to the water, while my father had wandered off to explore the stores and restaurants lining the beach. Already feeling the intense heat, I opted to follow my brother and dove headlong into the Pacific for the first time.

Manuel Antonio’s lure becomes obvious upon arrival. On any given day, the bay is filled with kayakers exploring the national park by water. Surfers scan the horizon for the next big set from dawn until the Pacific swallows the sun’s last brilliant rays of the day. Manuel Antonio’s nearby national park beckons travelers more interested in experiencing Costa Rica by land. Guided tours explore the forest through a series of winding trails, and visitors frequently find themselves in close encounters with numerous bird and reptile species, as well as the ever-popular white-faced capuchin monkey (think Marcel in “Friends”). We, however, opted for an unguided tour and proceeded to trek uphill into the park until a weary couple returning to the entrance advised us that the path went on for quite some time, and didn’t get any easier. Our hike did not go unrewarded, however. As we turned back towards the beach in defeat, our attention turned to the treetops as a large group of howler monkeys leapt through the foliage above the trail, finally regrouping to rest in a massive stalk of bamboo.

The abundance of wildlife and natural beauty isn’t the only reason visitors flock to Costa Rica. Throughout our three days in town, we encountered several self-proclaimed "locals" who, after frequent visits to the country’s Pacific side, eventually found themselves unable to leave such a relaxed, welcoming place. The arrival of residents from elsewhere in the world doesn’t seem to bother the longtime residents at all.

During the long drive back into the mountains for our flight home, we made several stops at small restaurants and were welcomed warmly at each one before continuing on our way. Thinking back, many of my favorite moments of the trip came from looking out the window of our van as we navigated the rugged but beautiful country between destination points. Although many aspects of our trip were spontaneous, it gave us the freedom to experience as much of Costa Rica as we could manage in eight days. As we neared our final destination and thoughts turned to the flight home, my father again began to hum “Do You Know the Way to San Jose.” Knowing the way, I hope we find ourselves here again.

Ongoing instances of excessive noise, trash and vandalism, particularly on an illegal roofdeck at 51 Phillips Street, have generated a great deal of concern from neighbors, including those living at the adjacent 41 Phillips Street building. For resident Jeff Johnson, these disturbances are nothing new and have become an issue of safety for his family.

“The last two years things have gotten pretty bad,” he said. “I have a back deck that looks across to 51 Phillips. It’s a great space to have in the city, but one that’s hard to enjoy when you have cans and bottles falling off the roof above without warning. At a family party recently, a beer bottle fell in the middle of the table.”

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