Execution of the Itinerary
Travel agents are like soccer goalies: They're all but invisible when they do their job well, and are the first to be blamed when something goes wrong. Edwards tries to avoid the latter by maintaining a network of partners who watch over his clients' trips. What you give up for this careful monitoring is serendipity. I had guides and drivers tending to my needs at almost every moment, even during a 95-minute layover en route to Lapa Rios. The upshot is that although no idle question goes unanswered, I felt stifled at times. On the other hand, whereas creating my own itinerary allowed me greater independence, I had no one to turn to when the inevitable snags developed. For example, I had booked a sea-kayaking excursion through the Web site of Si Como No, my Manuel Antonio hotel, and indicated a preference for the 8:10 A.M. trip. The concierge wrote back, "I will make the reservation for you!!!" Yet problems arose when I inquired about the trip at check-in. First I was told that my tour wouldn't start until 11:15 A.M. At the newly appointed hour, I hopped on the tour operator's bus and arrived at . . . a mangrove forest. Unbeknownst to me, my trip had morphed from a high seas adventure into a placid mangrove tour. I explained the mix-up to the guide, but since I had no proof of my original request with me, I gave up and pushed off into the swamp.

Renting a car was also a leap of faith. Most of the roads in Costa Rica are in far better condition than I had expected from the stories I'd heard of huge potholes, but the signage is atrocious. Without the GPS system that I rented, I might still be looking for the road to Arenal. While I like having my own set of wheels, others might prefer to sit back and let someone else do the driving.

Local Flavor
Logic dictates that traveling on your own lends itself to local experiences—the chance encounter with a Good Samaritan as you stare at a map or with a man who sells mangoes by the side of the road. But such interactions are curtailed when, like me, you don't speak the local language. So I was thrilled when a guidebook led me to El Establo Mountain Hotel in Monteverde. El Establo offered to arrange a meal with a family, to "share with the culture."

I booked a room at the hotel so that I could take advantage of this opportunity. When I called to confirm the room reservation I had made online, the reservationist didn't know about the family meals, so I asked to speak to the general manager. She told me that they normally arranged meals only for groups of ten or more, but agreed to look into it. I finally got what appeared to be a confirmation in writing, and when I checked in to the hotel, I was assured that everything was set. But on the evening in question, the front desk staff knew nothing of the arrangements, and wouldn't investigate further. Instead of sharing empanadas with a Tico family, I ended up munching pizza in my hotel room.