Nadine Hays Pisani

About Nadine Hays Pisani

Nadine is the author of the best-selling series, Happier Than A Billionaire. Join her as she navigates living as an expat in the sometimes confusing, always beautiful, country of Costa Rica.

Volcanoes, Chihuahuas, and Mountain-View Properties

By Nadine Hays Pisani| 2020-11-25T13:26:16-05:00 November 10th, 2020|Categories: Mountain House, Uncategorized|Tags: grecia, la paz, poas|

Costa Rica Cost of Living Update: Total Monthly CAJA (health insurance) for my husband and I — $197

I wrote my first Happier book in Grecia, a Central Valley town in Costa Rica. The reason we started our adventure there was that we needed to buy a car. It was the most unglamorous reason to move anywhere. Grecia, for reasons unknown to me, is the mecca for car lots. We gave ourselves three months and then would move along.

That three-month stay turned into three years. Grecia is one of the happiest places on earth. We rented a house on top of a mountain where we enjoyed temperatures in the 70s (21-26C). The Ticos were kind, even waving to us each time we rode past their house on our scooter. We made friends everywhere, except with Chihuahuas, who always chased us down the mountain. To this day, I get the finger from every Chihuahua I pass.

Each Saturday, we looked forward to shopping at the farmers’ market. Food is much less expensive in the Central Valley as compared to the coast. We brought a carry-on suitcase and stuffed it with all the produce that would fit. Rob then balanced it on our scooter, even shoving the eggs under our seat.

If you’ve read any of my books, you know why I’m so fond of this town. It was where everything in my life changed for the better. It’s where my writing career began. It’s a place where I imagined all sorts of things, and many of them came true.

Even though today we live at the beach, I can still remember that cool Grecia-mountain air. We didn’t need air conditioning or heat, so the inside was always the same temperature as the outside. I never realized how good that felt.

Every Thursday, we scooter’d to Poas Volcano. The scenery looks like a cross between Jurassic Park and the Swiss Alps. At 10,000 feet, it’s one of the few places in Costa Rica I needed a jacket. La Paz Waterfall Gardens is not far down the road. We’d visit there and walk through their butterfly observatory and hummingbird garden. Before going home, we’d stop at a Mirador and enjoy a hot cup of coffee. It was simple, and that’s what I remember most about starting our adventure—living a simpler life.

Our attorney reached out to us to let us know he is selling his mountain-view property. If you’ve read my Costa Rica Escape Manuals, then you are familiar with Gilford Banton Beckford. He helped us get residency and is one of the nicest guys we know. Residency rules kept changing, and our file became more complicated. Banton quoted us a low price for the job, even though it became clear the process was more than he expected. When we offered more money, he said, “I quoted you that price, and I’m a man of my word.” We have relied on his advice ever since.

I’m feeling nostalgic today, playing a mental slide show, recalling the good times, passing over the bad. Selecting out happy moments and shaking them like a snow globe.

What I’ve learned this year is to keep the good memories at the surface. Place a paperweight on them so a breeze can’t ruffle them away. Grecia will always be near the top of the pile, reminding me of where it all started, with scooter rides and yapping Chihuahuas. And of times when we stood 10,000 feet in the air.

(To contact Gilford about his property, you can email him at gbanton8@ice.co.cr , or call 506-8896-7910)

I Want to Move to Costa Rica

By Nadine Hays Pisani| 2020-07-19T17:01:58-04:00 July 19th, 2020|Categories: The Happier House, Uncategorized|Tags: coatimundi, happiness, the happier house|

Costa Rica Cost of Living Update: Electric Bill (pool and multiple air conditioners during the rainy season) — $204

People are Googling about moving to Costa Rica. Inevitably my face pops up, holding a watermelon…

or smiling on a boat.

While scanning the images, I found one of Rob’s bloody hand from falling off his scooter. And another of me boogie boarding in ankle-deep water with the concentration of a North Korean Olympian.

The only reason I’m Googling myself is to find out why so many people are contacting us. The email subject line is always, “I want to move to Costa Rica.” And I believe I found it.

An episode of EXPATS (a show we appeared in) has gone viral. It shows my husband pushing me on a swing and us walking hand in hand on the beach. Is that an accurate representation of our life? Absolutely, but so is him ripping his hand open after falling off his scooter, twice, once while delivering my stool sample to a doctor.

During the EXPATS show, I mentioned Rob’s friend questioning our search for a happier life. If you’re looking for a warm and fuzzy conversation, don’t expect a snarly guy from Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, to deliver one.

“What’s different about you?” he said, “Why should you be happy? We’re all miserable.”

But that wasn’t good enough, and perhaps that’s how you’re feeling today. All this stress has you gripping the ropes, hoping the bell rings before the referee counts to ten. Maybe moving to Costa Rica was on your mind way before the events of this year. You want to set this plan in motion, and now you’re Googling “I want to move to Costa Rica.”

Take my hand… I got you on this.

My life hasn’t been the same since we started our adventure. This country sparks inspiration every day. Lately, the sunsets have a lavender hue and remind me of macarons with orchid buttercream. It feels like falling in love inside a French bakery.

With Rob’s green thumb, our garden continues to expand. He’s bending bougainvillea over a backyard staircase, turning the passageway into a hobbit village. I went there to watch butterflies when I spotted a female coatimundi. It appears Walter (our resident coatimundi and papaya thief) has found a girlfriend, a little furry companion to snuggle with under the sunset.

Sometimes I wonder where I’d be if I didn’t go on this adventure. If we listened to Rob’s friend who told us that there was nothing special out there.

“Why should you be happy?” he said.

But even during the stressful times, I still believed there were swings under palm trees. And maybe that’s all you need to know. Believe when others don’t. Find the people who are doing what you want to do. Nothing is impossible, even if your timeline has changed. Even when the world has paused.

Rob said it best in the EXPATS episode, “Treat life like an adventure. Get that spirit back you had when you were a kid.”

I rediscovered mine in a place with butterflies and macaron sunsets. Yours may be on a rooftop deck in Manhattan, or a snowy ski chalet in Switzerland. All I know is it wasn’t where I was standing before this journey, in front of that friend, telling me that unhappiness was inevitable.

Fall back in love, go for the gold, and let this year be the one that made all the difference. Lean on the ropes while waiting for the bell to ring.

And when it does, come out swinging.

(My journey started with my first book, Happier Than A Billionaire. I’ve written more about moving to Costa Rica, and You can find them here. If you are looking for Rob and I talking about our life in Costa Rica, you can find the EXPATS episode here.)

Picking a Town, Finding a Home, & Creating a Budget in Costa Rica

By Nadine Hays Pisani| 2019-11-01T20:04:13-04:00 November 1st, 2019|Categories: books, Cost of Living, Press|Tags: book, cost of living, creating a budget, finding at home, picking a town|

Costa Rica Cost of Living Update: Picking a Town, Finding a Home, and Creating a Budget in Costa Rica —Kindle $9.99, Paperback $15.99

My new book is available!

Happier Than A Billionaire: Picking a Town, Finding a Home, and Creating a Budget in Costa Rica. It’s the perfect companion to The Costa Rica Escape Manual and will guide you through finding the perfect spot to start your own Pura Vida lifestyle.

To celebrate, I made mango cobbler in a cocktail dress. You may be wondering if I always cook in cocktail dresses, and yes. Yes, I do.

My husband advised me to wear heels because I looked taller when compared to the countertop. He’s the Don Draper of the Happier Production Company. So instead of five feet in height, I’m a whopping 5’4”. It’s shocking how little that detail made in my appearance or in my confidence overall.

I’m sure nobody cares about my height or even the mango cobbler. But the new book is great if you’re dreaming of moving to Costa Rica and want a better understanding of how much rent costs, the average monthly grocery expense, or even what a suicide shower is.

Electricity AND water? Who knew? (not a feature in The Happier House)

But I think the most important piece of this video is the montage of the happiest moments Rob and I have made in Costa Rica. This filmstrip plays in my mind every day — flashes of crazy adventures we had after quitting our jobs and trying to forge a completely new life.

Now when people ask, “You left everything behind? What were you looking for?” I can point them to this video. The answer is simply…

I longed to see my husband smile after climbing behind a waterfall and looking all but twenty-four again.
I wanted to sit on a beach with a dog under my legs as mama turtles swam back to the place where they were born to lay their eggs.
I wished to bathe in orange sunsets and marvel at lightning bolts flashing across the horizon.

Perhaps I wanted too much. But I remembered the person I was when I was my happiest. She smiled a lot, and I missed her. It turns out the things I needed back were the richest things I owned.

I hope all of you can visit this lovely country and bear witness to a capuchin monkey stealing a lemon. It’s never too late to replace your frayed and yellowed filmstrip with a happier one. There is an endless supply of unprocessed film tucked away in your head. It could be buried in your cerebral attic, or maybe you moved it to an overpriced grey matter storage facility.

I eventually found my box of film hidden in a mental shoe box. It smelled of my grandmother’s Italian cookies and was the color of the yellow dandelions that wildly grew in my parents’ yard.

Inside I found a treasure map pointing to bluer skies with air that smelled of coconuts. Your map could take you to a Himalayan mountaintop or a Bali yoga retreat. The only thing I’m sure is you have to reach inside to get out and dip back to go forward.

And moving forward, whether in flip-flops or four-inch heels, is a happier place to be.

***Happier Than A Billionaire: Picking a Town, Finding a Home, and Creating a Budget in Costa Rica is available at:

Imperfect, Dusty Places

By Nadine Hays Pisani| 2019-09-27T10:39:08-04:00 September 27th, 2019|Categories: The Happier House|Tags: the happier house, writing|

Costa Rica Cost of Living Update: New GE washing machine, with five years extended warranty—$600

This picture was taken three years ago and brings back a lot of feelings. I was relieved when we finally bought that bed, even if positioned in front of thirty workers drilling, spackling, and tiling. That day they installed the front door. Previously, that gaping hole welcomed windy day cyclones, swirling the air with satellites of earth and construction dust. We all breathed a foggy constellation of debris those months. We were unable to afford to live elsewhere during the build, and we prayed we could make it to the end without going broke.

Rob and I were in the final leg of an ultra-marathon dream that started years before. There was no visible finish line, but it didn’t deter us. If everyone saw one, there would be a hundred thousand people entering a race. “Look how close the ribbon is,” they would say. No. It’s only the few who think, “Sure, I’ll train every day for years to qualify. I’ll step over that finish line, even if it means crossing it after everyone has gone home.”

What I mostly identify in this picture is me lost in my thoughts, writing to all of you about how my husband just tripped over a hornet’s nest, or fell off his scooter, or just brought home a pallet of broken tile from a project up the hill because we ran out of money to order more. There were times I hid in the shower stall and wrote while sitting on the cool floor, surprising workers when they came in to use the can.

I wrote in the car while my husband was in the hardware store buying a doodad which was inevitably the wrong doodad. I wrote on my phone while I walked the mountain, my only reprieve from the construction. I’d type how lavender weeds as high as wheat stalks swayed in the breeze. I must have looked peculiar standing on a mountain watching them. But sometimes that’s all you need at the moment, a field of bending weeds surrendering to the wind.

Since we rent the main level of the house, I now write in the bathroom in the upstairs Sunset Suite. I don’t sit on the floor anymore since my husband bought me a tiny desk that faces the wall. I don’t have any distractions now except for the toilet two feet away, which adds an extra dash of romance to our marriage.

Sometimes I dream of a magical space with a large mahogany desk. A scattered surface with postmarked letters, and bookshelves lining the walls, filled with leather-bound novels. It’s always cozy in this imaginary space. A little dusty. A little imperfect.

The truth is, I will write anywhere because it’s the only thing that I ever wanted to do. When I’m not, I get fidgety. Words build up behind a cerebral dam, cracking its concrete, threatening to flood a town downriver.

I imagine this is what it’s like for an artist. I’ve watched people at restaurants doodle on paper napkins and others sketch while talking on the phone. I see them on the beach, drawing waves splashing against the shoreline. Their serene faces lost in a mystical world full of shadow and light.

There is a saying, “Artists like to draw, musicians like to play, and writers like to have written.” Words are like wild stallions. It takes a while to gain their confidence, and even when you do, there is no guarantee they won’t buck. Sometimes right in the middle of your best sentence. These are the moments that can make you crazy. But the words that have been written, the ones you kept? Oh, my. It feels like you’re galloping full speed across a clover filled meadow.

Over the years, I have learned that those elusive “best sentences” never came to me while sitting at a desk or while comfortable in a leather-backed chair. They arrived while sitting on the floor, in the jungle, or even in a bed surrounded by construction workers. All I know to do is to show up and confront the wild stallion. Heaven knows I’ve got the bruises to prove it.

Thank you to all who have followed my journey, whether through the move to Costa Rica or now the ramblings from The Happier House. I feel good that I wrote this to you today. I got the words out. They’re a little dusty and imperfect, but I stopped the dam from breaking, and the town downstream is safe for now.

Read more about our adventures on our Facebook page: Facebook.com/HappierThanAbillionaire

Blurry Lines & Trips to Nowhere

By Nadine Hays Pisani| 2019-05-09T19:57:20-04:00 May 9th, 2019|Categories: Tourism|Tags: beach, San Juanillo|

Costa Rica Cost of Living Update: Kiwis— $3 per pound

There are places here that remind me of when we first moved to Costa Rica. A feeling of weightlessness is the best way to describe it. You hover above them while breezes drift under your feet.

One of these spots is Playa San Juanillo, a beach 1 1/2 hours from Tamarindo. To get there, you drive through a town oddly called April 27 (Abril de 27). Over a hundred years ago this town, then known as El Gallo (The Rooster) decided it was time for a name change.

I’m sure residents must have tossed their suggestions to the council, one kid yelling, “Cielo Soleado (Sunny Skies).” Or a farmer hollering, “Tierra Rica (Rich Earth).”

But apparently, they couldn’t reach a consensus, so they settled on the date in which they held their meeting. Henceforth, the honorable town of The Rooster became the city of April 27. You might think this is a lateral move, but I applaud these townsfolk. City boards spend an inordinate amount of time and money on changing the name of a street, no less an entire town. It’s easy to make something simple complicated.

There isn’t much to see in Abril de 27. In fact, I wasn’t sure if we were actually driving through it. Like most Costa Rican towns, there is a lot of countryside before seeing a square with a church and soccer field. There is always a church and soccer field. And always laughing children playing outside. Neighborhoods bleed into each other around here — blurry boundary lines in a beautiful countryside.

I never mind a bumpy ride down an equally bumpy road when I’m with my husband. I love our little trips together — no pressure to be anywhere. We could pull off where we see men fishing and ask what they’re catching. Or stop at a roadside melon stand. One place is as pretty as any other. But today we are determined to find San Juanillo, a spot the Ticos keep telling us to visit. And now I understand why.

Playa San Juanillo is a small stretch of white sand with a peninsula jutting out of its center. It reminds me of the peninsula in Uvita, the one known as the whale’s tail because of its remarkable resemblance to… you got it… a whale’s tail. But San Juanillo’s peninsula looks more like a poodle’s tail. One groomed with a perfect pom pom on top.

We lay our towels under an almond tree and settle in. We never have much more than that. Maybe some cold drinks but we aren’t as prepared as other families here: no hammocks or umbrellas, barbecue grills or rafts.

“We have to remember to bring those things,” I tell Rob. But we never do. These trips are always spur of the moment. Not much planning is involved, and I suppose we subconsciously keep it that way. The whole purpose is to enjoy the day; to not make something simple complicated.

We do bring a snorkel and mask. Rob loves to snorkel. He would snorkel in someone’s fish tank if they’d let him. He needs to see what’s under the water’s surface. Whether it’s fish or coral, he finds this world infinitely fascinating.

As I relax under the tree’s shadow, I realize why Ticos keep telling me to come here. Sunrays lovingly tap the waves like a parent patting the top of their child’s head. You feel welcome here. You feel happy.

And maybe that’s why I feel weightless in so many of these beautiful places. Nature hardens my armor against sadder times. When a depressing thought hits or an old grudge bubbles up like a shaken can of seltzer, I stare at the ocean and it gives me mental space. And isn’t that what most of us are missing? Space from our worries? A little room to stretch out, as if our body was crammed inside an economy airline seat for the better part of twenty years.

Rob and I are both quiet as we drive home. I watch grains of sand fall off my arms, onto the car seat, then to the floor. By the time we make it home, there will be a mini beach at my feet.

The date we moved to Costa Rica was Sept 2nd. That was over ten years ago. It wasn’t a day specifically planned, but one where we could get our pets on the same plane with us. I knew from that day on things would never be the same. I was anxious because that didn’t scare me.

So just like the town of The Rooster, Rob and I convened and changed what defined us. We finally stretched out and found shade under an almond tree, taking road trips to nowhere that blurred our boundary lines. Feeling welcome and happy. Finding joy with two towels and a sandy car.

You can find all of my favorite places using the 2019 edition of The Costa Rica Escape Manual. Follow along on our adventures through all of my books! Or come see us at The Happier House and we can share these stories with you in person.

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