At the very end of the Nicoya Peninsula, beyond Cabo Blanco, where the road ends, there exists a refuge for exiles, a forgotten land, an endless basalt beach where we forget if we are coming or going.
Malpais. Bad Lands. A bad name for a beautiful place. A contradiction. Perhaps it's as fitting a contradiction as the name Costa Rica, or Rich Coast, which for centuries was in fact one of the poorest corners of this continent.
We come from Malpais, from the dry forests and dusty roads of the northeast where the ocean explodes on a pristine shore. It's the source of our language and songs. Malpais is our vision of music — a meeting place where the roads ends.
— Courtesy Calabash Music