Costa Rica

US, UK and EU visitors enter visa-free for up to 180 days — not the 90 commonly quoted, which was raised in September 2023 — and the passport need only be valid for the stay (legally a single day, though many airlines informally expect 3–6 months, so carry that to avoid check-in friction). Crucially, there is no mandatory pre-arrival digital entry form: the pandemic Health Pass was discontinued in 2022 and not replaced, so disregard older articles and lookalike regional forms that claim you must register online.

What is required is proof of onward or exit travel, and it’s enforced by the airline at check-in — which can deny boarding without it — more reliably than by immigration on arrival, so carry a confirmed onward ticket. Officially you should also be able to show means of support (about US$100 per month of stay).

The departure tax of about US$29 is now bundled into most airfares rather than paid at the airport — but check your ticket, because if your carrier hasn’t included it you’ll pay separately before check-in (payable in colones, dollars or by Visa, which adds a cash-advance fee).

For an independent itinerary a car — often a 4x4 — is usually the answer, especially in the rainy season. The catch isn’t distance, it’s time: drives take far longer than the kilometres suggest, so build generous buffers into each day (the table has the common legs). There’s no meaningful passenger rail, and Costa Rica has two international airports worth choosing between — San José (SJO), the main hub, and Liberia (LIR) in Guanacaste, far closer to the northwest beaches.

The no-car alternative is the network of shared tourist shuttles (Interbus and Gray Line) — door-to-door hotel transfers, roughly US$59–78 a leg, far easier than the cheap but slow public buses. For the longest hops, SANSA flies small propeller planes between San José and regional strips like Tortuguero and the Osa Peninsula, with strict luggage limits and weather delays in the wet season.

Fly into the right airport. Liberia (LIR) is the better gateway for Guanacaste and the Nicoya beaches (Tamarindo, Playas del Coco, Santa Teresa); San José (SJO) suits the volcanoes, Monteverde, the central Pacific and the Caribbean. Picking wrong can add three hours of driving on each end.

Costa Rica packs an outsized amount of wild into a small country. More than 25% of the land is protected, the grid is near-entirely renewable (hydro, geothermal, wind), and the army was abolished in 1948 — money that went instead to health and education, and latterly to conservation. The payoff is density: in a two-week loop you can stand under a cloud forest’s dripping canopy, soak in a volcano’s hot springs, watch sloths and scarlet macaws, and surf two different oceans.

That same abundance is why the trip is guide-and-park shaped rather than city-shaped. The capital, San José, is mostly a transit point; the experience is in the reserves and on the coasts, which is also why the logistics (cars, shuttles, park bookings) matter more here than the sightseeing lists.

Book through the official SINAC reservation system rather than resellers. Manuel Antonio requires advance online tickets (nothing at the gate), is closed every Tuesday, uses timed entry and carries a daily cap (~600 on weekdays, ~800 at weekends), so popular dates sell out. Poás Volcano reopened in July 2025 after a 2025 closure and now runs on timed SINAC slots — book the earliest morning window for crater visibility before the cloud, and know it can shut again at short notice on volcanic activity.

On the Osa, Corcovado requires a certified guide, so budget the guided package rather than a solo ticket. Entry fees mostly include 13% tax and run around US$15–18 for the headline parks; Tortuguero is reachable only by boat or plane. Fees, hours and caps change with little notice, and SINAC’s own portal can be slow or down — recheck the week you travel.

The newest rule bites on the Osa: since early 2026 Corcovado admits visitors only with a certified guide, and the great wildlife spot of Sirena has long worked that way — so for the country’s wildest park, price in a guided day, not a gate ticket. Chirripó, the 3,820 m high point, needs both a SINAC permit and a separate base-lodge booking.

The dry season (mid-December to April) is the classic window — most reliable sun, especially on the Pacific northwest (Guanacaste), the driest region — and also the busiest and priciest, peaking at Christmas and Easter. The green/rainy season (May–November) is cheaper, greener and quieter, with September–October the wettest on the Pacific side (afternoon downpours more than all-day rain for much of it).

The fact that rescues many trips: the Caribbean coast runs on its own calendar, often driest in September–October. So when the Pacific is at its soggiest, Puerto Viejo and Cahuita are the smart pick — a different coast, a different rhythm, and sun when the west is under cloud. The swaps below are the moves locals make.

• The Pacific is drowning (Sep–Oct)SkipGuanacaste and the central Pacific in the heavy rainsGothe Caribbean — Puerto Viejo and Cahuita, at their driest then
• Peak crowds and prices (Dec–Jan, Easter)Skipthe dry-season honeypots unbookedGoshoulder months (May, June, November) — green, cheaper, quieter
• You care more about wildlife than sunSkipwriting off the green seasonGothe lush May–Nov window — rivers full, turtles nesting, far fewer people

The backbone of most trips is Arenal/La Fortuna (the resting volcano, hot springs and adventure sports) paired with Monteverde’s cloud forest — where the recreational canopy zipline tour was born in 1997 — then a Pacific beach stretch. Guanacaste and the Nicoya Peninsula are the driest, surf-and-sand northwest (and a famed Blue Zone for longevity), while Manuel Antonio packs monkeys and sloths into a small beach-and-rainforest park on the central Pacific.

For the wild end, the remote Osa Peninsula and Corcovado are the most biologically intense corner of the country, and the Caribbean coast around Puerto Viejo brings Afro-Caribbean culture, sloths and a slower rhythm. Tortuguero, reachable only by boat or plane, is a jungle maze of canals where green turtles nest from July to October. The table pairs each region with what it’s really for.

The US sits Costa Rica at Level 2, and violent crime is largely confined to specific San José neighbourhoods (Pavas, La Carpio, León XIII, the Coca-Cola bus terminal area), not the resort zones and parks. For visitors the near-universal issue is opportunistic theft — smash-and-grab from rental cars at trailheads and beach car parks, and bags lifted off the sand — so never leave anything visible in a parked car and keep someone with your things while you swim.

The genuinely dangerous ones are natural: rip currents at many unpatrolled Pacific beaches are a leading cause of tourist deaths (around fifty drownings a year), so respect posted conditions and don’t swim where you’re unsure; and crocodiles inhabit some Pacific rivers and estuaries, so heed the signs. Dengue is present in the lowlands year-round — pack repellent. On the brighter side, it’s among the easiest countries in the region for solo travel, and same-sex marriage has been legal since 2020, the first in Central America.

A note on the advisory wording: the Level 2 rating cites “crime” generally. Broader reporting ties Costa Rica’s rising homicide rate to drug-trafficking disputes, but that violence is concentrated among those networks and specific urban areas — not the tourist circuit — so read the context, not panic, into it.

Money: the currency is the colón (around ₡500 to the US dollar in 2026), but US dollars are widely accepted for larger purchases, tours and hotels — carry small, crisp, untorn bills and expect change in colones; cards work in towns, cash for rural areas. Restaurants add a 10% service charge and 13% tax by law, so the 10% tip is already in; extra is optional. This is not a budget destination once guides, shuttles, rental insurance and park fees stack up.

On health, tap water is generally safe in San José, the Central Valley and the main tourist areas (genuinely unusual for the region), with bottled sensible in remote spots. For connectivity, a local SIM (Kölbi, Claro or Liberty — the old Movistar brand is gone) or an eSIM covers data; wifi is common in towns but weak in the deep Osa. Spanish is the language, with English widely spoken in tourism — and “pura vida” serves as hello, goodbye, thanks and “all good,” the unofficial motto of a nation that runs, mostly, on being relaxed.

The single emergency number is 911 — nationwide, free, and it works without a SIM, with English-speaking operators generally available. Worth knowing before you need it on a remote road.