We often treat vacations as a luxury; a reward we give ourselves only after we have burned out or crossed a finish line. In a world that demands our constant attention, stepping away is not indulgent; it is maintenance for the soul.
I didn’t go to Costa Rica just to see another beach. I went to remember what it felt like to exhale. I went to trade the noise of daily life for the sound of the ocean, and to see if a change in latitude could shift something inside me.
I landed in Jacó, a beach town on the Pacific coast, and stayed on the southern side of it. I rented a condo one block from the ocean. It was walkable, pulsing with music and life. I loved the convenience of having restaurants, cafés, and nightlife steps away. But if you’re planning a trip to truly invest in peace, I would recommend staying at the northern end of town.
Here’s why.
Jacó is known for its volcanic sand. It isn’t Caribbean white; it’s darker, moodier, and more dramatic. A deep charcoal that glimmers when the tide pulls back. It’s beautiful. On the southern stretch where I stayed, volcanic rocks are scattered along the shoreline. It gives the beach character, but it’s not ideal for long barefoot walks.
The northern end is a lot smoother. Softer. Easier.
As you move north, the rocks disappear and the sand opens into wide, flat expanses that mirror the sky. The energy shifts. It feels quieter. Less party, more retreat. Elevated and peaceful while still in town.
And then there are the sunsets.
I have traveled the world, but the sunsets in Jacó are among the most theatrical I’ve ever experienced. They are not just pretty; they are an event. Every evening, I stopped whatever I was doing to witness them, and it became a ritual.
The sky would ignite. Deep orange melting into crimson, then soft blush fading into lavender. It didn’t just fade; it performed. Standing there, feet in warm volcanic sand, I felt aligned in a way that is hard to describe.
If you’re chasing that view, there are two spots I recommend.
On the southern central side, Samudio’s Sunset Rooftop quickly became a favorite. Upscale and relaxed. Intentional without trying too hard. Their happy hour runs from 5 to 7 p.m. offers two drinks for the price of one—reason enough to claim a front-row seat.
And the tuna poke bowl? Exceptional. It’s layered over a crisp rice cake that adds the perfect crunch beneath the fresh tuna. Savory, vibrant, refreshing. It tastes like the ocean looks at sunset.
If you prefer your sunset directly on the sand, Aloha Beach Front Bar & Grill, on the northern end of the beach, places you exactly there. Chairs settled into the beach. You order your drink and sit as long as you want while the Pacific rolls in just yards away. Salt in the air. No rush. Pure Pura Vida.
Still on the northern side, the culinary scene is alive. PuddleFish Brewery has great draft beer, delicious burgers, and live music. The vibe is social and electric, and it's where the tourists meet at the end of a long and wonderful day. In Jacó, you can choose your frequency.
One of my favorite discoveries, though, wasn’t a single restaurant but the local “sodas.”
In Costa Rica, a soda is a small, family-run restaurant. Simple, authentic, affordable. This is where you eat like a local. The traditional plate is called a casado, meaning “married.” It’s a marriage of flavors: rice, black beans, plantains, salad, tortillas, and your choice of protein.
I developed my own strategy: I would substitute the rice and beans for extra salad and, most importantly, more fried plantains. Golden, slightly sweet, caramelized on the edges. Comforting and grounding in the best way.
Jacó is also the perfect base for adventure.
About 30 minutes away, I hiked through 10 waterfalls on private property. Lush jungle overhead. The scent of damp earth. The sound of rushing water. We swam in cool pools beneath cascading falls, washing off the coastal humidity. It felt wild yet accessible. Thrilling without being extreme.
I also visited Playa Blanca, a striking white-sand beach where I caught the final surfing competition of the season. Watching surfers carve through waves as the sun set was mesmerizing. The contrast between Playa Blanca’s white sand and Jacó’s black volcanic shore highlights how geologically diverse this coastline is.
A short drive takes you to Herradura and the Los Sueños Marina. Yachts anchored in calm water, polished shops, international restaurants. It’s relaxed sophistication, a welcoming change of pace.
And then there is Manuel Antonio National Park.
If you go nowhere else, go here. Just plan ahead. Reservations are required, and during high season you should book weeks in advance. Arrive early; the park begins clearing visitors around 3 p.m.
Inside, wildlife surrounds you: sloths draped across branches, monkeys swinging overhead, bright tropical birds flashing through the canopy. Tucked within the park, a small white-sand beach feels almost surreal against the dense jungle backdrop; the perfect place to cool off after hiking.
Yet some of my favorite moments were the simplest ones.
After several days of dining out, I craved something uncomplicated. I went to the local fish market and bought fresh fish brought in that morning. Back at the condo, I sautéed it in butter with salt, and finished it with a fresh squeeze of lime juice.
It was phenomenal. I paired it with fresh papaya and orange juice I also made myself. Cooking with local ingredients shifts you from tourist to temporary resident. It slows you down. It makes the experience more intimate. It reminded me that less is often more.
Jacó felt like a beautiful paradox. It had energy and stillness. Adventure and ease. Rooftop sunsets and home-cooked dinners.
One practical tip: avoid traveling between Christmas and the New Year if you can. The festive energy is fun, but traffic is intense. What should have been a relaxed 1.5-hour drive to the airport was nearly four hours. Plan accordingly.
Would I go back? Without hesitation.
Jacó isn’t polished perfection. It’s real. Gritty, beautiful and alive. It’s about presence. It's about standing on dark volcanic sand, watching the sky explode into color, and feeling grateful you’re there to see it.
For me, it wasn’t just a vacation. It was a reminder to slow down. To taste the food. To watch the sky. To let “pura vida” settle into my bones.
And trust me, those sunsets alone are worth the trip.
I have chased sunsets across the world, but the ones in Jacó were theatrical. It was like the sky itself was performing just for those of us willing to pause.
Stepping away is not just a reward; it is a vital investment in our mental wellness. It is maintenance for the soul.