I’ve had a habit for a long time of taking a “Gary Week” each year. The premise is simple. Head off somewhere random, with little to no plans. Spend time meditating and considering the months that had just passed and my place in them. What had I done well. What had I done badly. What could I improve. What should I accept. I was always alone for these trips, and that was really the point. Like the Buddhist hermit who heads for some remote cave to contemplate and meditate, I wasn’t trying to escape loved ones so much as trying to spend time with someone I should love.

One year it was Iceland, another Peru, a third Scotland. Sometimes exotic. And sometimes not. The destination was picked a few weeks before I was going to head out. With modern technology and a bit of good old fashioned self confidence, I rarely booked more than that flight, and maybe the first nights accommodation. Life was organised and scheduled enough. I could go a week without it.

When I flew to Florida. I picked up a sage green VW Camper Van called Jasmine in St. Petersburg (interestingly the previous year I’d also been in St. Petersburg for Gary Week, but there they spoke Russian). She and I drove down to the Keys together, with me feeling like the hippy I never was, and her probably wondering why I was trying to take an engine and chassis from 1979 and make it handle like an Audi S5. Good times and I’m happy to report we both survived.

I ended up in a bar / restaurant by the sea in Clearwater. The place was pretty quiet (Gary Week was usually low season activity – I’m no tourist.*) and there was a guy sitting a few tables away. As we were the only two people in the restaurant I asked if he wanted to join me. This was my return leg (Jasmine alas was due back the following day) so I was heading back to “civilisation” and starting to feel more social.

We chatted. I’d had him pegged as Malay or Indonesian, maybe Filipino, and eventually worked out he was Indonesian (one of the joys of my career is that I’ve worked in all those countries and odd words can usually tip the nod).

We talked about the things people do when they first meet. Interests, family, travel. And then we turned to the subject of why we were where we were. For me it was a description I knew well (I gave it to you in the first couple of paragraphs ;).

And then Aditya (as he was now known) told me his story. Of how he had, through various misadventures, ended up as a maritime pirate. How he had never liked the life, or the brutality and killing, and eventually had saved enough money to come to America. How he was now the owner of a local bar and had 2 small children who screamed a lot and a wife who nagged him all day. He seemed incredibly happy at all this, and showed me pictures of them at Disney and on a boat his friend owned. I’ll admit he certainly looked like he had his sea legs in the boat picture. He confessed he was incredibly scared when he first came to America, and in the first few years often thought about returning home. But now he was so glad he had found the courage to change his life.

So yes. I’ve had dinner with an Indonesian Pirate.

Which brings me to Costa Rica. I’m guessing because it’s near the sea?

No. It brings me to Costa Rica, because I’ve met other people like Aditya here. Maybe not pirates, but certainly those who have made a choice to make a change in their lives and see what happens.

There’s Michele, who owns the AirBnB in Samara where I’m writing this. She moved to Costa Rica 3 years ago, lock, stock and barrel from Colorado. Her philosophy is to lead a simple life on the beach. She’s the first to admit it may not be for everyone, but she works as a massage therapist / aesthetician (let’s face it people like to pamper themselves) and “doesn’t have much”. She sees this as an advantage. When something breaks in Costa Rica (and it will break) then getting it fixed can be hard. It’s the way life is here and you have to onboard that.

But her “things” are her friends, the sea, the beach and just enough possessions she needs to have a happy life (and if any of us really thought about it, the things that truly make us happy can be easily named, and usually aren’t things but people). Michele was told by “everyone” she knew that it was a crazy dream and she “would never make it happen”. She defied all the naysayers and certainly seems like a happy woman as she walked her dogs the 60ft onto the beach this morning.

And then there is Mazlan and his Costa Rican girlfriend Ella. Mazlan is originally from Argentina and has lived in a few interesting places, usually moving from country to country every few years. But apparently Samara is now “home”. He runs a juice stall (amongst I am sure other enterprises) and says he wants to stay here now. Whether that is Samara or Ella, I cannot guess, but he was an engaging and happy chap who I enjoyed spending some time with today.

What Aditya, Michele, Mazlan and Ella all have in common is the desire to find their happiness. They didn’t have a concrete plan. Heck in some cases they didn’t have a plan at all. They simply tried.

Who knows were they will end up. Maybe where they are now is their final destination. Maybe it’s a stop on a journey. But they are deciding that. And when all is said and done, that is what’s making them happy.

*If anyone can tell me which action movie that phrase comes from without Googling it, email me and  I’ll find some kind of prize that you’ll probably forget 10 minutes after receiving it.)

LTPV!
Gary