"I Bought a 53-Acre Farm in Costa Rica for $175k"

After hours spent on my knees in the dirt, an ember finally held together long enough for me to topple it over onto my pile of dry leaves. I blew gently, then held the bundle high with contentment as a flame sparked and grew. I smiled from ear to ear as several of the 120 others working on the same task came over to congratulate me. I had just made my first friction fire.

This was my third day in the first of three consecutive week-long courses at Tom Brown Jr’s renowned Tracker School in Costa Rica, learning to boost my awareness of and participation in the natural world—from animal tracking, bird language, and basket-making to flint knapping, foraging, and camouflage techniques.

I was preparing myself for a whole new life—one where I could live in harmony with the land, grow and forage my own food, and, if necessary, build a fire without a lighter along with a weather-proof shelter in the woods.

I didn’t know exactly where I was going with this knowledge. But I knew I was on the right path… one far different from the one I’d been on two months prior.

From a lot of folks’ points of view, I’d just walked away from a dream job in finance. I worked from Baltimore, but I could have lived almost anywhere I wanted. My bosses didn’t bother me. And I made good money.

Yet after a decade in front of the computer, my mind, body, and soul rebelled against my often static lifestyle.

I wanted to spend my days outside, surrounded by swaying trees, singing birds, and swimmable rivers. I wanted to use my body, to work with my hands.

I don’t fool myself into thinking I can produce enough to meet all my own needs. And I don’t reject everything that causes harm to the oceans, soil, and animals. That’s not realistic. But I do believe that most of the things I consume can be grown or produced locally, often by neighbors.

So, I "retired" two years ago at the age of 39. I read books and took courses like the one at the Tracker School on wilderness survival, foraging wild plants and mushrooms, and permaculture.

I considered looking for a place in the U.S. where I have family, friends, four seasons, and lots of conveniences. But I decided instead to move back to Costa Rica, where I spent six years right out of college.

I love the tropics: the people, the fruit, the wildlife, and plant life. And I knew my money would go a lot further here. This meant I would have a longer runway to play, experiment, and figure out a way to make money with my hands rather than a computer.

It meant less pressure… And that was extremely appealing to me. If I could live according to the rough budget I drew up, I would have five or six years before I needed to earn enough money to meet expenses.

In the US, to live the way I wanted, I would have had maybe half that amount of time at best. Not to mention, with the cost of property for somewhere tropical, like Florida, it was a given that I’d have to settle for something less than what I really wanted.

Here in Costa Rica, I ended up with more than I even thought possible…

Mornings With Toucans and Waterfalls

Ben's beautiful 53-acre farm in Costa Rica, purchased for $175k, is nestled amidst lush greenery.|©Ben Morris

In October 2023, I bought a 53-acre farm in the mountains above the central Pacific coast of Costa Rica, just north of Manuel Antonio and a stone’s throw away from La Cangreja National Park. I have a clear title to the land, good drinking water (that comes from a spring in the nearby national park), mostly reliable electricity, and a farmhouse that I fixed up with the help of a couple of locals.

I also have a lot of potential building sites with panoramic jungle views. And one of my property boundaries is a big creek with waterfalls and swimming holes. So I can happily bathe naked in crystalline blue water year-round without concern of running into anyone.

You might think a property like this costs half a million dollars or more—and in more touristy parts of Costa Rica, it would. But I paid $175,000, including commissions, legal, and all other fees. To me, it was a fantastic deal.

I’ve been living in my renovated house for a little over a month now. And I’ve never been happier. I wake up to birdsong at 5 a.m. every day. Toucans and scarlet macaws frequent the 50-foot-plus trees around my house. Oropendolas feast on the water apples. White-faced capuchin monkeys also pass through occasionally.

I used to start my days scanning economic news, commodity heat maps, and stock charts—trying to find the next "big idea." Now, I start my day with a little stretching. Then I walk around to look at all the seedlings and young trees that my partner Yuli (pronounced "Julie") and I are growing. So far we have a variety of exotic fruits, ornamentals, tomatoes, vanilla, black pepper, and other spices.

Soon after, when my cow Perla comes down from the pasture above my house to drink, I carry two five-gallon buckets of water to her. She trots over knowing I have a treat, like fallen mangos, starfruit, water apples, or banana peels—all of which were here and mature when I bought the farm.

Perla isn’t a dedicated milking breed, but she produces about half of a gallon of cream-rich milk per day. Yuli uses the milk to craft delicious dairy products like butter and ghee, mozzarella, ricotta, and cream cheese, and a tart, tasty yogurt that’s perfect for fruit and granola.

My worker Luis arrives at six o’clock and works until noon. These days, he’s fixing up one of the trails down to the creek. He cuts bamboo from a nearby clump on my land and uses it to widen the trail and build steps. He’s also helped me with digging holes and planting root crops like yucca, ginger, turmeric, malanga, and papa chiricana. These gifts from the earth will be ready for harvest in six to nine months (I’m told).

I pay him a good local wage—about $3.50 per hour. And he shows up every day with a smile and good attitude. I’m lucky to have him as a neighbor, worker, and now friend.

Yuli and I spend some time every day planting, transplanting, pruning, or otherwise caring for our ever-growing plant family. We spend about a half day per week processing food. A few days ago we dug up some old yucca, peeled and grated it for cooking, pressed it for starch, then dehydrated and ground a bunch to make flour. We’ll use that soon to make bread and a Colombian baked good called almojábanas.

I like working with wood, so I often take an afternoon or two each week to work on a project. (I just finished up a small bookshelf and am getting ready to build a new bed.)

I also take my Australian cattle dog Manchas to the creek to swim and fetch sticks—his favorite activity—at least a few times a week.

But a cattle dog he is not—he gets in front of Perla and growls instead.

Yuli and I cook just about every meal. We don’t have any restaurants nearby except one that opens only on the weekend. The closest town, Parrita, is 45 minutes away. That’s where we visit the hardware store, pay the monthly electric bill (about $20), and go grocery shopping.

Fortunately, we can get a lot of food from our neighbors, almost all of whom are locals.

Here we cultivate flexibility… and keep life interesting.

One couple raises chickens for meat and eggs. Another grows tomatoes, lettuce, cucumbers, and herbs. Sometimes another neighbor slaughters a pig and we can buy pork. If we want, we can catch a truck that comes by twice a week with a variety of vegetables and fruits, too, mostly from farms in the region. Eventually we hope to have our own chickens, veggies, and herbs. In the meantime, we’re happy to support our neighbors.

Of course, rural life does have its challenges. We’re 45 minutes away from the closest emergency clinic, for example, which is why I’m about to take a Wilderness First Responder course. Off-farm entertainment is hard to come by, too. And making money will be a challenge.

Still, we’re not discouraged.

Building a More Sustainable Future

Now that our old farmhouse is fixed, we’re planning the next steps.

First is to build a woodshop for the tools I’m having shipped down in a container. (Big power tools are hard to find and super expensive in Costa Rica.)

We also want to build a proper plant nursery and greenhouse in the coming months. Rainy season (May to November) is here, and it would be useful to have a covered space for smaller plants and crops that don’t like too much water.

A dedicated food-processing and preparation space is in the cards, too. We plan to build a cob (earth, sand, and straw) bread and pizza oven in the next month. A couple of friends up the road—Canadians who are spending six months here— recently built one, and the pizza was phenomenal.

Another probable project: a recreation space. Yuli loves aerial yoga, with silks and hoops. And I really like climbing. Eventually, we envision building a beautiful open-air space with rafters to hang silks and a climbing wall on one side. A hanging bridge that leads to a platform within the giant, sprawling wild ficus is in the back of our minds, too.

Of course, we’ll need space for guests. Our current house will likely be the future guest house and rental. I want to build a timber frame home made of local hardwoods and wattle-and-daub (earthen) walls.

So, how will we make money to pay for all this?

Yuli works remotely part-time, which helps a lot. I have a good amount of savings and investments. And I believe that if we keep doing things that we love, the money will come.

We’ve talked of starting a small dairy business. Or hosting woodworking/furniture making classes. If we get our recreation space together, we could charge locals and passersby for an aerial class or wall-climbing session, with a trip down to the waterfalls and swimming holes included.

Maybe our exotic fruit nursery will grow to the point we can sell trees to folks just starting to plant. In a year, our small avocado orchard should start producing. And we’re swimming in citrus and guava trees, too. Guava jelly, anyone?

I once heard a wise woman talk about her "livelihood garden." Every year, she plants a diversity of "seeds"—which, along with actual plants, include the skills she builds, the contacts she makes, and the projects she works on. When one "crop" in her livelihood garden ripens into a money-making opportunity, she harvests it. This approach isn’t as secure as a bi-weekly paycheck. But I view it as a way to cultivate flexibility, build resilience, and to keep life interesting.

I see an abundant livelihood garden in my future. For now, though, I wake up every day inspired to plant the seeds.