Lodging: El Mirador del Pacifico
I stayed in the hostel section of this beautiful hotel. It was $12 a night, a bit out of my budget, but it ended up being completely worthwhile. To get there, I took the bus from Quepos and asked the driver to let me know when I'd arrived. Once I knew the place, I just looked for the large white stone entranceway near Hotel Plinio or Mariposa. It's a bit closer to Quepos.
I know there were cheaper accommodations in Quepos or closer to Manuel Antonio park. I'd heard $10, and even $7 was possible from other travelers I'd met. But the most beautiful area is on the road in between, and I was happy to pay a few more dollars for the service and setting.
The rooms are set far back from the road, many steps up. The hostel rooms felt miles away from civilization, so the hotel rooms, even further away, must have been amazing.
Because it was low season, I had the room to myself, so I really got a deal. I had a queen-size bed, private bath with towels, and a fairly large room. Closet space was enormous, so the place would be great for long-term stays. The water pressure was fantastic and I was so happy to find the only shower of my entire trip that came at an angle instead of directly overhead!
Rainforest sounds surrounded my room every night; frogs and butterflies played on the balcony. There was a very slow cable car (outdoor) that went up and down if you didn't feel like walking, and a lovely small pool that was open all day. After one particularly hot day I took a refreshing night swim.
The manager was a wonderful guy named Sven. Sven was kind, helpful, spoke English beautifully, and was my age. Of German and Costa Rican descent, Sven had studied hotel management in San Jose and had been given the opportunity to test himself by his parents' friends, who owned El Mirador. He had loads of travel advice and loved Manuel Antonio so much. I'd originally found the hotel online and had e-mailed Sven several times already, and always received helpful responses.
Sven was an absolute gem with helping me save money. He recommended Costa de Oro, a local favorite near the bus station. Huge chicken casado for 1000c, and a large ham and cheese sandwich cost 500c. One of the nights I walked by I ran into Sven and his uncle there, saying "see? I told you I like this place!" He also clued me in that the pretty supermarket near the bus station was not the only option in town—locals used a dark, cramped, but much cheaper store on another road.
When it turned out it was more difficult to meet people in Manuel Antonio than Monteverde, Sven was also my buddy. He generously gave me beer after beer, lent me endless cigarettes, and chatted with me late every night. Meeting Sven and staying in his picturesque hotel was one of my best experiences in Costa Rica.