We’d heard about a beach about 30 minutes away fabled to host ceaseless waves, so we hopped on a local bus to a roadside about 10 km from the storied Avellanas Beach. There was a bar on the corner of the dirt road which joined the road on which the bus had dropped us with the road to Avellanas. It was full of locals and served $1 beers, blasting music from an array of mismatched speakers. The jovial bartender handed us a beer to share while the guy sat next to us shouted along gleefully with the lyrics of the song, breaking into fits of hysterical laughter as he sang.
The Floridian families had offered to take us back to Tamarindo and the warm exchanges continued through dinner, infusing the feeling of kinship and grace.