Today’s story about a cobra loose in Manhattan reminds me of my many travels to “jungly places” and my sometimes hilarious fear of snakes, recounted in my story “Dodging Snakes in Costa Rica,” published in the 2010 travel anthology Wandering in Costa Rica.
Approaching Playa Nicuesa by boat, the indigo ocean melts to aquamarine in the shallows where the forest-green canopy spills unimpeded into the sea. The lodge and guest cabins are invisible from the shore tucked into a dense jungle of ceiba and cedar, cacao and mango.
At 8 am sharp our group headed out in our jalopy van for a bone-jarring day trip to Playa Blanca –White Beach – on Costa Rica’ central Pacific coast, a journey our host predicted would take an hour and a half. “There are closer beaches,” he told us, “but I want one that’s safe for swimming.”