Wild thread in my dress

Laatst bewerkt op 16 oktober 2026

Living in Costa Rica is like subscribing to a 24/7 nature channel. No remote needed, no monthly fee, just open your door and tune in. Honestly, who needs Netflix when the geckos are on?

Every evening, like clockwork, about twenty of those little sticky-toed acrobats gathered on the wall of a rental cabin, stage-lit by the porch lamp. It was like a full-on soap opera. They sprinted across the ceiling, tackled mosquitoes mid-air, bickered, wiggled their tails, and occasionally smacked into one another like drunk uncles at a wedding.

Cute, yes.

Quiet? Absolutely not.

And if you think the worst thing they’ll drop on you is a dirty look, think again. Let’s just say: if you’re sitting under a gecko, you’re in the splash zone. But gecko droppings are beginner-level distractions. The real entertainment starts when the scorpions move in.

One morning, I was putting on a beach dress when I felt a tickle at the back of my neck. Thinking it was a loose thread, I casually reached behind and flicked it. That ’thread’ took flight.

A huge scorpion, I kid you not!

A full-size, claws-out, “surprise, I live here too” scorpion catapulted across the cabin. It hit the wall and skittered under the wooden trim, its tail left menacingly poking out like a middle finger. I stared. It stared back.

“Okay, buddy,” I muttered, “you stay in your corner, I’ll stay in mine.”

And that’s how we became roommates with a silent, legally binding non-aggression pact.

Now, the funny thing is that after living in Costa Rica for a few years, I had become rather confident around scorpions. Perhaps a little too confident. These days, I see them regularly, especially in my bathroom, which apparently doubles as some sort of luxury scorpion resort. The bathroom however is the kind of place where you walk in half asleep, barefoot, hoping for a peaceful shower. For me it became a place where I occasionally discover a creature with two claws and a weapon attached to its backside casually hanging out while me casually greeting it: “Oh, hello again. Enjoying the facilities?”

Despite all these encounters, I had never been stung. I started to think I had some special arrangement with the local scorpion population like a mutual understanding. You don’t sting me, I don’t scream and throw things at you. And for quite a while, it worked beautifully. Then came the day I got an unexpected exfoliation treatment.

Picture this: I’m fresh out of the shower, minding my own business, drying myself with a towel. Nothing unusual. Except the towel felt a little… prickly instead of the soft, fluffy, luxurious sensation I hope for after a shower. It felt more like someone had added a few sharp twigs to the fabric. I rubbed again. Still prickly.

“What the…?”

I pulled the towel away from my skin. And there it was…. A scorpion.

Not on the floor. Not on the wall. Not even politely sitting on the towel. No. It had been trapped between my skin and the towel while I was RUBBING MYSELF DRY!

“WTF just happened?!”

For a few seconds, my brain refused to process the situation. I had basically been using a live scorpion as an exfoliating glove. Well, that is a Costa Rican spa treatment nobody asked for. And the most unbelievable part? It hadn’t stung me. Not once.

I stared at the scorpion. The scorpion probably stared back, equally confused.

“Seriously? We just did THAT together?”

At this point, I was convinced I had some kind of diplomatic immunity. Maybe the scorpions had held a secret meeting and decided I was off-limits. “Leave the crazy barefoot woman alone. She’s clearly not worth the trouble.” Fair enough.

Eventually my luck finally ran out…

Living in Costa Rica comes with a few unwritten rules. Check your shoes. Shake your clothes. Look before you grab a towel. And perhaps most importantly: watch where you put your bare feet. That last rule I knew perfectly well, but it is also one I regularly ignored because I just love walking barefoot, like inside, outside, around the house, on the rocks in the river… just everywhere. I even drive my car barefoot.

After some years of scorpion encounters without a single sting, I’d become a little cocky. I mean, what were the odds?

Apparently, pretty good…

One day, I was working in the garden, confidently placing my bare feet wherever I pleased, not looking down, not paying attention until… a very sharp pain shot in my foot.

DAMN! I had just stepped on a scorpion.  And this time, our non-aggression pact was officially cancelled. The scorpion had clearly had enough of my barefoot nonsense.

“Oh, so we’re STEPPING on each other now? Fine. Have some of THIS!”

OUCH!

Let’s just say it wasn’t the greatest feeling in the world. My foot started throbbing, and it kept on throbbing. And throbbing. And throbbing some more. Ice helped, but only briefly. The sharp pain came back the moment I took away the cold pack.

That night, while the geckos were performing their usual circus tricks and the frogs were belting out their greatest hits, I was lying awake with a foot that seemed to have developed its own heartbeat.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP!

Every time I thought it was calming down, there it was again. The scorpion had made its point, quite literally actually. “Lesson learned” you might think. Well… mostly. I still love walking barefoot but these days, I try to remember that the floor is not always exclusively mine although that cautiousness disappeared after a few weeks again.

Meanwhile, in the rest of the jungle circus… scorpions, spiders, snakes, and assorted creatures with far too many legs are simply part of the background hum of life here. Fear doesn’t help. Caution and respect definitely do. Also a healthy sense of humour is practically a survival skill over here.

Because that is the funny thing about living in Costa Rica. You come for the tropical paradise, the wildlife, the adventure, and the freedom and somewhere along the way, you discover that the wildlife doesn’t just live around you. Sometimes it lives in your clothes. Sometimes it joins you in the shower. And sometimes it delivers a very painful reminder that you’re not the only one walking around barefoot.

Welcome to Costa Rica where nature is always close, occasionally a little too close and where the best advice I can give you is simple:

Shake your shoes, check your towels, and never, EVER get too cocky with a scorpion.

Because apparently, they hold grudges.

---