Paradise is not lonely --even if you're alone

LIBERIA, Costa Rica -- A young woman traveling alone draws quizzical looks and a variety of reactions, ranging from horror to admiration, but almost always tinged with pity.

My friends thought my five-day solo trip to Costa Rica sounded cool, but couldn't hide their concern that I planned the escape because I didn't have a man to whisk me away.

My parents were convinced that smugglers would hide drugs, weapons, cash and microfilm in my luggage and that I'd be arrested and imprisoned for life in a bamboo cage in the middle of the rain forest.

The plump middle-aged Chicago woman in the seat next to me on the plane, heading to Costa Rica to celebrate her 25th wedding anniversary, clucked sympathetically when I admitted under questioning that I was spending the next five days by myself.

"Well, good for YOU," she said, as if I were acknowledging an addiction and vowing to seek help.

The truth is, I'm used to doing things by myself -- I live alone in New York City, cook for myself, often go solo to see live music. And before this week was over, I would watch surfers on the beach, drink cold Costa Rican beer as the sun set, ride horseback at the foot of a volcano, hike into the rain forest, listen to frogs and howler monkeys at night and enjoy steaming cafe con leche in the morning -- all on my own.

Still feel sorry for me?

Last winter, I made a resolution to start traveling alone, before I start acquiring the strings that make such a luxury impossible. The advantages are endless -- go where you want, do what you want, spend very little money doing it.

For my first trip, I wanted to lie on a beach somewhere in a country where I could practice Spanish and get by on a budget. I also wanted an adventure -- I wasn't looking for a spring-break-type resort where I'd be hanging out with people just like me.

Seeking solo adventures

Costa Rica was perfect. The stable, Central American country boasts beautiful beaches, exotic jungles, a great climate and still retains an identity somewhat undisturbed by tourism overdevelopment.

To save money, I booked a trip that included airfare, hotel and meals. It was simple and a good deal. If I did this again, however, I wouldn't include meals, since I could probably eat for less than $10 a day in Costa Rica.

I researched online and browsed a few travel guides before I decided to head to the Guanacaste region, on the Pacific side in the north. Its beaches are renowned for surfing and snorkeling, with some spots known for annual visits from sea turtles laying their eggs. The guidebooks also said the rain forest was close enough for a day trip.

I discovered quickly that traveling alone created opportunities to meet interesting people, which usually led to unique experiences I wouldn't have had otherwise. Upon my arrival at the hotel, I met the concierge, who quickly became my friend, sometimes joining me for meals and long chats. He wanted to practice his English, and I wanted to speak Spanish, so our conversations were a hybrid.

The next day he arranged for a driver to take me to Playa Tamarindo, one of the area's most popular surfing beaches. It's also bordered by a funky little town of artists, surfers and young people. If I went back to Costa Rica, I'd want to stay in Tamarindo.

The best time to go to Costa Rica is during the dry season, which begins in late December and ends mid-April -- when I went -- but most guidebooks agree that the country is pleasant even during the rainy months.

I decided to spend my last full day in Costa Rica relaxing at the pool, sunning myself alongside the occasional iguana. When I was too warm, I retreated to the shade of the mango trees, where hotel workers would stop by and chat as they cut down fruit for the next morning's breakfast.

When I first arrived there, the workers were surprised I was by myself, but they quickly befriended me. "You're not alone," one woman insisted in Spanish. "You have us."