Under Grumpa's Hat

There’s something about leaving home that opens your eyes to what you truly value. You start to notice the little things you once took for granted, the parts you can live without, and the surprises that make you fall in love with somewhere new. Canada will always be my home, but Costa Rica has quietly become the place where my heart feels at peace.

What I Miss Most from Canada

Family tops the list. Even though we didn’t see each other often, just knowing they were close enough brought comfort. That sense of proximity disappears when countries come between you. The distance to my dad and sister is now about the same in flight hours, but farther to my daughters and grandkids.

I miss the simplicity of banking. Back home, everything could be done with a few clicks. Paying in Canadian dollars without worrying about conversion rates was another luxury I didn’t appreciate enough. The math is always in someone else’s favour.

And fall. The crisp air that wakes you up better than coffee, the blaze of red and orange leaves, and that earthy smell that comes only once a year. While I haven’t done that for a while, I also miss hunting season.

The grass was softer too. Here, it’s coarser and thicker, and even the dogs have made their opinion known by avoiding it as much as they can. I miss letting them roam freely. In Canada, the biggest concern was a skunk or porcupine. Here, it’s snakes and deadly toads, so leashes are now a part of daily life.

I also miss the wide roads and the easier process for buying big items like vehicles or property. In Canada, there was order and a clear path. Here, there’s a process too, but sometimes it feels like you’re figuring out the steps as you go.

What I Do Not Miss at All

Politics of division top the list. It seemed that everywhere you turned, people were drawing lines in the sand instead of finding common ground. Friendships and families were strained over issues that, years ago, wouldn’t have made anyone raise an eyebrow. It felt like kindness had become conditional, depending on who you voted for. Canadians’ moods are negative in general, often guided (or misguided) by biased media seeking controversy. I don’t miss that one bit.

I also don’t miss the winters. What started out as a few weeks of Christmas charm always seemed to stretch into six months of scraping windshields and layering socks. The first snowfall was magical, but by March, the magic had melted into slush and fatigue, more so as I aged. I love snow, but only from a distance now, preferably on a postcard.

The wildfire smoke that came with every dry season in British Columbia is another thing I gladly left behind. You could almost taste the air at times. Knowing how quickly one careless spark could destroy lives and homes never really left your mind.

The price of food was another sore point. Walking through a Canadian grocery store often felt like playing a cruel game of “how much more for the same items this week.” Even simple meals came with premium price tags. And it wasn’t just the money, it was how much of what we bought wasn’t really food anymore.

Then there’s the mentality of always trying to outdo each other. A new car, a bigger house, a fancier vacation. It’s as if contentment had become outdated. People seemed to be measuring their worth by the size of their mortgage or the number of likes on their latest post. You told someone something you’re proud of and instead of being happy for you, they turned it about themselves: “I did that (or more) too!” I don’t miss that invisible competition, or the quiet exhaustion that comes with it.

Selfishness, too, had crept in over the years. It wasn’t everyone, of course, but there was a noticeable shift toward “me first.” Fewer people looked up from their screens, fewer held doors open, and fewer cared about neighbours unless it made a good story online. That sense of community that used to define Canada sometimes felt lost in the noise.

And surprisingly, I don’t even miss hockey. Somewhere along the way, it stopped being about fun and started feeling like politics… on and off the ice. I still appreciate the game, but it doesn’t hold the same magic it once did.

Lastly, I don’t miss living next door to the United States during the Trump era. It was as much about politics as the constant tension that spilled across the border. The noise, the headlines, the uncertainty, it all bled north whether we liked it or not. Canada is NOT and will NEVER be the 51st state.

What I Love Here in Costa Rica

The climate is a gift. Warm, sunny mornings followed by refreshing afternoon rains. The air always feels alive. The temperature barely changes year-round, which means no scrambling for parkas in one month and sunscreen the next.

The people are another reason I love it here. Ticos are among the kindest, most genuine people I’ve ever met. They have a calmness about them that seems to come from living in harmony with their surroundings.

The coffee deserves its own line of praise. It’s smooth, rich, and aromatic enough to make you pause mid-sip just to appreciate it. Every cup feels like a small celebration of the land it came from.

I’ve always loved thunderstorms, and here I can enjoy them again without fear. In British Columbia, lightning meant danger. Here, it’s just nature putting on a show.

The food is fresh and full of life. Beef, pork, chicken, eggs, and produce are all affordable and flavourful. Processed imports from the US cost more, but that’s hardly a loss. Fruit ripens on the trees and is sold right away, instead of picked too soon to allow for long travel. Pineapple here tastes like sunshine, and I’ve gone from never touching it to eating it every day.

I also love the sense of discovery. Every day brings something new: a bird I’ve never seen before, a flower that seems too vibrant to be real, a colourful butterfly or a conversation that teaches me something about the local culture.

Costa Rica rekindled my creativity too. I write every day now, and taking photos has become second nature. My camera has become a dear friend which I use almost daily. The mix of old and new here feels like stepping back in time, yet staying connected to the present.

And then there’s the clock. Changing it twice a year never made sense to me, and we don’t change them in Costa Rica. Here, time flows naturally. The sun rises and sets at nearly the same time every single day. There’s something reassuring about that kind of consistency.

Last but not least, it’s living the Pura Vida. What seems like a touristic catch phrase is so much more than that. It’s a way of living life at its fullest, enjoying every moment and feeling it in your pores.

A Thought to End On

My wife and I often remind ourselves that we are immigrants in this beautiful country. That word carries weight, more so than expat. Too often, people move somewhere new and try to remake it in the image of the place they left. We’ve seen it in Canada, and we’ve seen it here too. Some expats live in bubbles of familiarity, surrounded only by others like them. To each their own, I guess.

We’ve chosen a different path. We take part in local events, speak the language as best we can, and show respect for the people and the traditions that make Costa Rica special. It’s not about changing the place to fit us, but about allowing it to shape us instead.

From time to time, someone asks me, in person or on social media, “What’s wrong with Canada, to force me to move away?“. My answer remains the same each time: “It’s not about what’s wrong with Canada. I still love the country and take great pride on being Canadian. It’s rather about what’s right with Costa Rica.“

And since life isn’t a marriage that demands exclusivity, it’s perfectly fine to love more than one place at the same time. My heart simply found room for both.