Who Do You Call When Paradise Lets You Down?

Sunday, June 3, 2007
Paris, France

More than a decade ago, some friends and I invested in a piece of land on the south Pacific coast of Nicaragua. We weren't savvy international property developers. We just liked what we saw. Even if this Rancho Santana is never worth more than we're paying for it today, we told ourselves, we won't mind. This is a remarkably beautiful spot.

In the intervening 10 years, we accidental developers have made every mistake possible…but we've kept at it. And, along the way, something remarkable has happened: A community has taken hold.

When you visit Rancho Santana today, you see not only a clubhouse and stables, an ocean-view pool and surfers on the beach…you see, when you look more closely, the beginnings of something more enduring. You discover, over drinks on the patio at the clubhouse and climbing the hills on the way to and from their beachfront homes, a small group of like-minded wanderers who are starting over…together.

From different states, different countries, different backgrounds, these people share an open mind and a spirit of adventure. Somehow, they found Santana…and decided to put down roots.

Rancho Santana isn't the only place where we've noticed this phenomenon. In places like Vilcabamba, Ecuador…Boquete, Panama…Roatan, Honduras…the Pacific coast of Costa Rica…Lake Chapala, Mexico…Americans and other expatriates have migrated far from home…to make new homes…where the weather is better, the view more pleasant, the cost of living lower, the history maybe more interesting…but, most important, where they can band together with other 21st-century frontier settlers and push ahead into the great unknown of a wholly reinvented life with other folks doing the same thing.

These are brave souls. Starting over isn't easy. But it's easier when you have a little company.

In truth, no matter how poetic our writers wax, Paradise comes with pitfalls. We show you pictures every day of Shangri-la. But, the truth is, as we know you know as well as we do, no place is perfect.

Some days, your internet connection won't connect…your taxi driver will take you for a ride…you'll stand in line for hours to renew the visa stamp in your passport only to be told, when you finally arrive at the proper window, that the office is closing for the day…come back tomorrow and stand in line again, amigo…

Days when the electricity goes out at Santana…or other Nicaraguan frustrations get in the way…you can make your way down to the clubhouse and take comfort in the other souls there taking comfort in the glorious sunset (best viewed accompanied by a Flor de Cana rum and Coke).

Here in Paris, days when the electricity goes out (as it did the other weekend), you can meet your fellow expats in the park at the Tuileries for a picnic of prosciutto ham, fresh baguette, and local red wine.

Either way, your gripes about the local utilities are soon forgotten.

A decade ago, it was the raw beauty of the land that attracted us to the south Pacific coast of Nicaragua. Today, the countryside is as glorious, the ocean views as impressive. But nowadays there's another reason to seek out this corner of the world--the forward-thinking, adventure-seeking souls who are establishing themselves here. You'll find, as we have, that they're company you'll enjoy keeping.

And great comfort those days when Paradise isn't Sharngri-la.

Kathleen Peddicord
Publisher, International Living