Last Updated on November 2, 2026
I flew into San José and headed south for the week. My destination was Dominical, a small beach town on the Pacific Coast of Costa Rica. Dominical is a bit over three hours south of San Jose, where the Osa Peninsula starts. The mountains are piled up behind the beaches, and there’s lush forest between those mountains and the Pacific. A lot of the sand still has nothing built along it.
I had a rental car and a loose intention to explore a little more of the coastline, but by the end of the first day, I’d already abandoned that idea. The journey from the airport had taken the best part of half a day, and the thought of spending the following mornings back behind the wheel, driving for hours simply to tick another place off the list, held very little appeal. Instead, I decided to stay put and let the days unfold at a slower pace. There was something rather liberating about having nowhere to go and no set plan.
The first hour beyond San Jose was a blur of traffic and passing trucks, but gradually, the landscape began to change. The road wound its way uphill, the air grew cooler, and I rolled down the windows to let it all in. Before long, the road began its descent towards the water. Somewhere along the way, I stopped for a rather forgettable coffee at a little place I wouldn’t bother to find again.
By the time I arrived in Dominical, the afternoon was already unfolding, and I had absolutely nothing planned. That, of course, was the beauty of it. The days were for eating well, enjoying the waves, taking in these glorious Pacific sunsets, and letting time pass without much thought. That first evening, I went to bed earlier than I ever would at home, pleasantly content with having nothing on my to-do-list. I was in relax mode.
Dominical is known for its great surf, so the next morning, it was time to check out the swell. The water was about 78°F. I never took my wetsuit out of the bag. Mornings went to the surf, and it was always pleasantly uncrowded. I paddled out and spent time in the waves, until I started to feel tired. Around 9, I’d usually be starving, and I would paddle back to shore to find a small “soda”, as the small family-run restaurants in Costa Rica are called.
I never really made a project of exploring the beaches, even though there are several nearby. Dominicalito, just a little further south, is small and largely untouched. I spent a slow Monday there with a book, managing all of four pages before giving up and settling instead for just staring out at the deep blue ocean. Playa Hermosa, further along the coast, is longer and even quieter. I walked its length on a Friday afternoon, a towel slung over my shoulder, passing just one other person along the way. We exchanged a nod and a friendly “hola” and carried on. That was about as busy as it got.
Marino Ballena, at Playa Uvita, is something else entirely: wide, open and seemingly endless. It gets its name from the humpback whales (ballena = whale) that pass through these waters twice a year. I found myself standing on the sand, looking out to the sea trying to get a glimpse of a whale. On one occasion, I caught sight of a back and then a tail disappearing beneath the water – so close to the beach! Dolphins made an appearance, as well, although I was looking in entirely the wrong direction and only realized they were there when someone further down the beach pointed them out.
A little further inland, there’s Nauyaca, a well-known waterfall. It’s only a 15-minute drive from Dominical, a short trip that’s well worth it. If you leave early, you can be back in Dominical in time for lunch. It’s a scenic waterfall, surrounded by lush tropical greenery, and a large pool that you can swim in – if you dare! The water is quite cold, but on a hot day, very refreshing.
My evenings followed the same simple routine: watching the sunset on the beach, before finding a restaurant that serves a “casado”, the typical Costa Rican mix of rice, beans, fish, or something green. I then finished my evenings with my book, enjoying the solitude.
December to April is when the weather is best, although May through November there are fewer people, and the forest looks lusher. September through November are the wettest months with lots of rainfall, however, the mornings are usually still sunny and nice with great surf conditions.
If you want to sleep up surrounded by trees instead of in a room on the road, Kalon Surf is above the canopy, outside town. There are only ten rooms, and no more than twenty guests at a time. Surprisingly, the resort attracts a lot of solo travelers, so you won’t feel like the odd one out if you’re traveling by yourself. If you’re traveling with your significant other, you can splurge on the villa that comes with its own plunge pool, albeit the communal pool never gets crowded.
On my final morning, I got in the water one last time before I started the drive back to San Jose. One last surf. Or was it? I have a feeling I might be back. Dominical is just that kind of place. Quiet and unassuming, and yet it pulls you back again and again.
