I’m Kayla, and I went to Costa Rica to see how it feels as a queer traveler. I wanted real rest, a little party, and a lot of nature. I got all three. I also got sand in my shoes and plantains for breakfast, which I’m not mad about.
You know what? I felt welcome most of the time. Not just tolerated. Welcomed. Costa Rica has marriage equality. Staff were kind. Folks said “Pura vida” with a smile that felt real, not fake. If you’re looking for a quick snapshot of LGBTQ rights and travel intel before you go, the IGLTA’s Costa Rica page sums it up in one scroll.
Before I left, I skimmed the travel advice on OutProud, a handy hub for LGBTQ folks, to ground myself in local laws and community tips.
For even more detail, I leaned on their in-depth Costa Rica gay travel guide and kept it open on my phone whenever I needed a quick confidence boost.
But I won’t sugarcoat it. Some spots felt a bit hush-hush. I’ll tell you where I felt free, where I played it cool, and what I’d do again.
Where I Started: San José Nights and Coffee Days
I landed at SJO on a Friday. I stayed near Barrio Escalante, which has great coffee and cute bakeries. I used Uber for short rides (drivers use WhatsApp a lot), and I got a Kolbi SIM at the airport. Easy, cheap, done.
- La Avispa: I went on a Saturday. Old-school, lively, mixed crowd. I danced to Shakira with a table of strangers who kept feeding me guaro shots. The bathroom line was chaos, but the good kind.
- Club Teatro: Big room, bigger energy. Drag show after midnight. Think glitter and fans and one queen who read me for wearing hiking shoes to a club. Fair point.
Daytime felt safe and calm. At night, like any city, I watched my bag and stayed with friends. PDA was fine in those clubs and on the street near them, but I kept it light in quieter areas. It’s a vibe check thing.
Tiny work note from the planner in me: stay in San José the first night. Flights run late. Save your big beach drive for daylight.
Manuel Antonio: The Beach Bubble That’s Actually Real
If you want a gay beach scene with monkeys, this is it. I booked four nights at Hotel Villa Roca. Adults-only, LGBTQ-owned, cliff views, warm staff. Sunset happy hour felt like summer camp for grown-ups, just with less arts and crafts and more fruity drinks. I first heard about Villa Roca through the Costa Rica Gay Travels website, which curates queer-friendly stays all over the country.
- Pool talk: I met a couple from Denver and a solo traveler from Spain. We swapped waterfall tips and sunscreen.
- Biesanz Beach: My favorite. Quiet curve of sand. Kids building castles. No one stared at us holding hands.
- Manuel Antonio National Park: Sloths. Monkeys. Crabs that look like tiny chips. Take a guide; we saw way more.
I also toured Tico Tico Villas because a friend stayed there. It’s men-only, calm, and well kept. Not flashy. Felt safe.
Little drawback? Hills. Real ones. Your calves will complain. Also, Quepos has a few local bars with karaoke. Fun, but I kept PDA low there. Staff were kind; a few guys at a corner table weren’t my vibe. We left, got ice cream, and called it a night. No drama, just a read-the-room moment.
La Fortuna: Hot Springs and the Softest Yes
I took an Interbus shuttle up to La Fortuna. Rain tapped the windows. I napped, then soaked.
- Tabacón Hot Springs: Lush, dreamy, a bit pricey. Worth it for a long soak after ziplining.
- Baldi: Cheaper, louder, like a water park for adults. I liked it too.
- Sky Adventures Zipline: Smooth safety talk, kind guides, huge views. My stomach did that roller coaster drop. I still smiled.
La Fortuna felt open and mellow. Staff asked “Are you two celebrating?” We said yes, a vacation, and they brought cake. That tiny cake felt big.
Puerto Viejo: Salt, Reggae, and Slow Mornings
On the Caribbean side, Puerto Viejo moves to its own beat. Afro-Caribbean food, jungle sounds, surfboards on bikes. I stayed in a wood bungalow with a mosquito net that made me feel like a princess who snores.
- Playa Chiquita: Shade and soft waves. Perfect book day.
- Salsa Brava (the area): Great for people watching. Surfers, dogs, laughter.
- Chocolate tour: I crushed cacao with my hands. My nails smelled like candy all day.
It wasn’t a rainbow flag party here. But it was very “come as you are.” That felt good in a different way.
Food I Loved (and Kept Ordering Anyway)
- Gallo pinto for breakfast. Rice and beans, eggs, salsa lizano. Comfort in a bowl.
- Casado for lunch. A little of everything: rice, beans, salad, plantains, and meat or veggies.
- Patacones with black beans and pico. Crispy, salty, perfect with beer.
Vegetarian? You’ll be fine. Lots of fresh stuff. Just say “sin carne” and “sin pollo.” Folks will help you out.
Pride, Timing, and a Bit of Budget Talk
I hit San José near Pride weekend one year. Marcha de la Diversidad filled the street with color, drums, and grandmas waving flags. If you want that joy, go in late June. Book early. Room inventory tightens fast and prices climb when occupancy pops. See? Work brain sneaks in.
- Dry season: Dec to April. Sun, higher prices.
- Green season: May to Nov. Warm rain bursts, better deals, softer crowds.
- Cash and cards: Both work. I used cards often; I kept some colones for small stands.
Safety and Comfort: What Actually Helped
- Apps: Uber worked well in big spots. I used WhatsApp with drivers and tour guides.
- Shuttles: Interbus was on time. Gray Line too. Buses are very cheap but slower.
- Dating apps: I matched with locals and other travelers between bus rides. For a quick, no-nonsense breakdown of which platforms are popular in Central America and how to stay safe while meeting new people, check out PlanCul, an up-to-date guide packed with comparisons and safety tips that can help you flirt smarter and avoid common pitfalls.
If your travels eventually swing back through Southern California and you’re craving an easy, classifieds-style way to line up some no-strings fun, pop over to Backpage Apple Valley—the streamlined listings there make it simple to browse local companions and set up a laid-back meet-up before you even unpack your suitcase.
- PDA: In resorts and tourist towns, we held hands. In rural stops, we kept it low-key. Your call.
- Night stuff: I took a small bag, used a zipper, and stayed in lit streets. Normal city sense.
- Spanish I used: “Somos pareja.” “Mesa para dos.” “Gracias, pura vida.” That last one opens doors.
Small Cons (Because Travel Isn’t a Postcard)
- Hills in Manuel Antonio. Bring good shoes. Cute sandals will cry.
- Rain in the green season. It comes fast. Then it stops. Pack a light jacket anyway.
- Nightlife changes. A bar might be hot one month and quiet the next. Ask hotel staff. They know the “where tonight” better than Google.
What I’d Do Next Time
- Monteverde for cloud forest and hanging bridges.
- Santa Teresa or Nosara for surf and sunset runs.
- Osa Peninsula if I want full-on jungle and fewer people.
- Maybe even hop over to Aruba for a sun-kissed island getaway—OutProud’s happy, windblown review has me tempted.
I’d also plan one true rest day. No tours. Just beach, book, nap. That break made my last day brighter.
Quick Packing List That Saved Me
- Fast-dry shorts and a second swimsuit
- Sunscreen you actually reapply
- Bug wipes for dusk
- A tiny dry bag for boats and surprise rain
- Backup charger and a universal adapter
Final Feelings
Costa Rica felt like a hug. Not a perfect hug, but a real one. I danced in San José, I swam in Manuel Antonio, I soaked in La Fortuna, and I drifted slow in Puerto Viejo. I felt seen, and I felt safe most of the time. When I didn’t, I stepped back, and that worked too.
Would I go again as a gay traveler? Yes. I already saved a beach photo as my phone lock screen. It reminds me that joy can be simple: warm water, good rice and beans, and a place where “Pura vida” isn’t just a slogan—it’s how