Costa Rica Coast to Coast – Winding Down and Coming Home

by Alan Cole · Published Thursday, May 28th, 2026 · Updated Tuesday, May 26th, 2026

Leaving the Caribbean

Having finished our coast-to-coast journey on Monday lunchtime, we were now on the Caribbean coast winding down. In hindsight, I probably should have treated the next few days as part of the holiday and made the most of them. Instead, something in my brain decided that the main event was over and that everything from this point on was simply the journey home.

That wasn’t really true, though, as I wouldn’t actually get home until just before midnight on Thursday. Costa Rica may be a long way from Wales, but it still shouldn’t take three and a half days to get home.

Monday afternoon had been spent relaxing on the Caribbean coast. By Tuesday morning I had several hours to myself, so I went for another swim in the sea, had breakfast at the hotel, relaxed by the pool, sorted out my kit for travelling, wandered into town, watched the surf, and sat on a swing hanging from a tree on the beach.

The swing didn’t last long though, as it made me feel slightly travel sick. Not exactly a promising sign for the next couple of days of continuous travel.

After lunch at the hotel, we all boarded a minibus for the long six-hour transfer back to the Sleep Inn in San José. The drive itself wasn’t too bad. I was dosed up with Kwells, wearing Sea-Bands, and had secured a front seat. We crossed the bridge we had rafted beneath earlier in the trip, drove along roads we had cycled on, and passed back over some of the mountain passes we had climbed. Oddly, they almost felt steeper and higher from inside the minibus than they had on the bike.

We even stopped for a break at the same junction shop we had visited during one of the cycling days, so for a while it felt as though we were retracing our steps across the country.

Once in San José, we checked into the hotel before heading out into the city for some souvenir shopping and a McDonald’s before bed.

A Day in San José

The following day was another almost entirely free day in the city. I had breakfast alone at the hotel before heading back into town for more souvenir shopping.

My main mission was to find some authentic Costa Rican chocolate for Anna. She also ended up with a bracelet, some sloth socks, and, naturally, a few fridge magnets.

At one point I wandered into a museum I happened to pass, partly for the air conditioning, but also because it seemed like a good way to kill some time.

It wasn’t cheap to get in, and after exploring all three floors in around twenty minutes I realised it was actually the Museum of the Bank of Costa Rica. There wasn’t a huge amount there, so it was slightly disappointing. Still, the irony wasn’t lost on me that I had just spent twenty minutes learning about the history of Costa Rican currency while simultaneously trying to get rid of all my remaining colones. A Burger King lunch helped with the latter.

Later I returned to the hotel and waited for the 3:30 pm transfer to the airport, which I shared with K, who was also flying back to Birmingham.

The Journey Home

My original booking had me flying back to Manchester, the same airport I’d departed from, but the Paris-to-Manchester leg had been cancelled and I’d been rebooked onto a later flight arriving around midnight.

That wasn’t much use to me, as it would have meant an overnight hotel stay in Manchester, so I’d asked instead to be rerouted to Birmingham, where I could still catch the final train home to Borth.

The only concern was that the Paris-to-Birmingham leg existed as a separate booking while my main itinerary still technically ended in Manchester. I was convinced this would result in me arriving in Birmingham while my luggage continued on to Manchester without me.

What I hadn’t anticipated was arriving at the airport to find a huge armed police presence. Everything was closed off, nobody was being allowed into the terminal, and traffic and passenger queues were rapidly building outside. We joined the growing crowd while armed police officers gradually organised passengers by airline.

Eventually Air France passengers were called forward and K and I joined the queue. A little later we were allowed into the terminal in small groups under heavy armed guard.

Strangely, once inside everything became very efficient. We were right at the front of the queue, check-in was straightforward, and my luggage tag correctly showed Birmingham, which felt like a small victory.

At security, however, things became more dramatic.

I noticed bomb disposal teams outside and then, just as I was about to pass through security, there was a huge explosion. The security officer screamed and dropped to the floor covering her head. A few other people screamed too.

I just carried on placing my belongings into the tray and walked through security as normal. Later we discovered that the authorities had carried out a controlled explosion on a suspicious vehicle outside the airport.

Once airside, I bought some more chocolate for Anna, spent my final colones on a coffee, and waited for the flight, which eventually departed about an hour late.

I didn’t sleep at all during the 10½-hour flight to Paris, arriving somewhat tired, before enduring another five-hour wait for the Birmingham flight — which was also delayed.

Eventually I made it to Birmingham, and thankfully my luggage arrived with me.

For most people that would have marked the end of the journey. Not for me.

For reasons unknown, several trains around Birmingham had been cancelled, so I ended up taking a convoluted route involving four trains: Birmingham International to Birmingham New Street, then Wolverhampton, Shrewsbury, Machynlleth, and finally onwards towards Borth.

At one point K messaged to say he was already home and unpacked before I’d even managed to leave Birmingham.

Remarkably though, all the connections worked and I eventually made it across Wales to Machynlleth, where the final train wasn’t running and was replaced by a bus. Finally, just before midnight, I arrived in Borth where Anna met me at the station for the final short drive home.

As usual, this Much Better Adventures trip had been excellent.

Costa Rica is an incredible country with hugely varied landscapes and outstanding wildlife. We had hiked, biked, rafted, and kayaked our way across it, taking in rainforest, cloud forest, mountains, rivers, and both coastlines along the way.

The organisation and logistics once in-country had been superb, and the guides and support crew throughout the trip had all been excellent company. The travel at either end was occasionally stressful, but once the adventure itself began everything simply worked.

I’d recommend the trip to anyone with an adventurous spirit.

The only remaining question is: where next?