Innovative farming co-ops unlock unexplored landscapes, wildlife, and exceptional coffee
Initially, it felt like stepping into a Bob Dylan tune—perhaps one of his legendary Latino ballads. Along dusty paths, shared only with cowboys on horseback, we journeyed. We crossed aged bridges adorned with rust and giant spider webs. In the middle of the road, a caracara falcon feasted on a lifeless iguana. However, as we departed from ranching terrain, a pineapple desert emerged before us. Nightfall approached. Beyond a store where a mule stood tied, darkness engulfed us, and the trail ascended into jungle-covered hills. Eventually, we arrived at a gate marked by a peculiar metal sculpture. Jovino, our driver, shrugged, saying, “This must be it.
Shaking his head, we found ourselves in Costa Rica, far from the typical tourist spots, in an area called Biolley near the Panamanian border.
Embarking on a lengthy, meandering drive, the headlights illuminated a series of unexpected scenes: a legion of frogs hopping across the road, an owl gracefully diving through clouds tangled in a bamboo forest, cascading waterfalls, and more of the peculiar sculptures. This, I realized, was not Dylan; it was Dalí.
Costa Rica boasts a thriving tourism industry, attracting a substantial number of visitors—around 3 million annually before the pandemic—by championing environmental values. The country preserves vast stretches of protected land and upholds enlightened attitudes toward wildlife. Here, you won’t encounter monkeys restrained by chains or macaws confined to cages under the guise of “rescue” birds. The prominent national parks deliver on their promises, featuring remarkable fauna and breathtaking landscapes. Moreover, this small, demilitarized Central American nation offers free healthcare, trustworthy police officers, and high literacy rates.
With a land area roughly half that of Iceland, this compact nation harbors approximately 5% of the world’s documented species
Does everything seem flawless then? Well, not entirely. Beyond the main parks, there exists another facet of Costa Rica—a realm where intensive industrial farming of bananas, sugar cane, palm oil, pineapples, and coffee becomes the primary source of income for many. Within these areas, communities striving to protect their natural environment from the chemical-intensive methods of monoculture face hurdles in gaining attention. Exploring these initiatives and connecting with individuals involved can be advantageous for both the environment and your expedition
Witnessing tropical fruit cultivation on a massive scale is far from a picturesque sight. Once the heavily sprayed fields become depleted, they are subjected to herbicides, plowing, and the introduction of synthetic fertilizers and cloned plants. Regrettably, this business model pervades in farming practices worldwide, including in countries like Britain. However, while we may have grown accustomed to our depleted countryside and even developed an affection for it, in a region blessed with extraordinary biodiversity, it can be a jolting experience. After all, this small country, which is half the size of Iceland, is home to approximately 5% of all known species on Earth. Many visitors come specifically to witness the remarkable wildlife rarities, such as the resplendent quetzal or the harpy eagle.
As Jovino and I approach the end of the lengthy trail, lights illuminate the hillside above us. Utilizing our phones as makeshift torches, we navigate through bushes until we reach a terrace adorned with a delightful coffee shop. Behind the counter, brimming with cakes and coffee packets, stands a roasting oven. Upon closer inspection, I notice tea crafted from coffee flowers. Finally, I have the pleasure of meeting the couple at the core of this enchanting jungle realm: Gonzalo and Fanny Hernández.
It’s a bit late for coffee,” remarks Fanny, “but you should try some coffee blossom tea.” I oblige, and to my delight, it turns out to be exquisitely delicious, with a delicate flavor
Gonzalo arranges the chairs, and we quickly engage in a spirited discussion on his favorite subject: coffee. “The majority of coffee cultivated worldwide comes from a single variety of a single species,” he explains. “And just like any monoculture, it is susceptible to vulnerabilities. A single pest can devastate an entire crop practically overnight. With the advent of climate change, this danger only intensifies. Monocultures must adapt and embrace biodiversity. That’s the very notion I aim to demonstrate here.”
Having previously worked in the coffee industry, Gonzalo made the decision to purchase land and establish Coffea Diversa—a botanical collection comprising over 600 coffee tree varieties sourced from various corners of the globe. “We don’t eradicate the jungle and indiscriminately spray everything,” he emphasizes. “Instead, we collaborate with the forest. Tomorrow, I will show you firsthand
Toucans gracefully glide above me, while hummingbirds dart by with a magical whir, resembling miniature trimmers
To my surprise, I find that my bed is nestled within one of the peculiar metal sculptures. It is one of the most unconventional hotels imaginable, yet unexpectedly comfortable. As dawn breaks, I awaken to a breathtaking vista of the jungle and agroforestry. Toucans gracefully swoop overhead, while the hills echo with the melodious liquid songs of oropendolas, resembling large crow-like birds. Hummingbirds whiz past my ears, akin to magical miniature strimming machines.
Gonzalo awaits my presence. “The toucans feast on the coffee berries. Most coffee farmers despise them, but we welcome their presence,” he explains. He leads me to a row of coffee bushes heavily laden with vibrant red berries and points beneath them. “You see? We collect these.”
Gonzalo clarifies that the toucans carefully select the finest coffee berries to consume, subsequently excreting the beans. He and his team collect these droppings. Curious, I inquire if he intends to emulate the Southeast Asian coffee producers who confine civet cats to force-feed them coffee berries, resulting in the famed and valuable kopi luwak. He recoils in disgust. “Never. Furthermore, treating wild creatures in such a manner is strictly prohibited in Costa Rica.”
On this remarkable farm, Gonzalo demonstrates the harmonious coexistence of tourism, agriculture, and diverse nature. I spend the entire morning observing the toucans, as they diligently focus on the wild fruits of the guarumo trees. Gonzalo allows these trees to thrive among the coffee plants, with the toucans inspecting the branches, tilting their heads with measured precision before delicately selecting their pickings with their formidable beaks. Such a level of harvesting accuracy is beyond human capabilities. The following day, I embark on a hike to explore the area’s enchanting waterfalls with José from Asomobi, a cooperative society that supports local farmers in developing projects related to tourism, organic practices, and agroforestry
Several days later and a few miles to the north, I stumble upon a different style of coffee farming. San Jerónimo, a rugged and untamed jungle region, remained uninhabited until enterprising settlers arrived from Panama in the aftermath of the Second World War. They painstakingly cleared the land and planted Coffea arabica trees, eking out a modest existence, but never amassing great wealth. To this day, their coffee berries are sold at meager prices.
I have the pleasure of meeting Ken Gallatin, who initially arrived in this area as a Peace Corps volunteer during the 1980s and decided to make it his permanent home. “When I first arrived, there were no cars here,” he recounts. “Only horses and mules.” Even now, the influence of the outside world is faintly perceptible. “We lack a police station or an officer,” he adds
