Time to Travel: Living and loving the island life in Nicaragua

Leaving the westernised Costa Rica for still-developing Nicaragua was both a relief and an annoyance. It was great to finally be back in a more adventurous (and much cheaper!) land, but at the same time it meant going back to dealing with chaotic transport terminals and travelling on agonizingly slow, hopelessly overfilled buses. After the luxury of traveling in a private car in Costa Rica, we needed a while to readjust to hours of standing, squashed in between a bag of live chickens and a muddy farmer in rubber boots toting a machete. Oh, and please make room for the opulent Mami squeezing her way through the packed bus with a pot on her head, screaming that she is selling quesillo (hot tortillas with cheese and cream sauce - as if we hadn’t already deduced that from the old-feet smell emanating from her pot). And don’t forget to listen to the zealous preacher bellowing about the evils of alcohol two feet from your ear. Oops, now a group of about 10 people want to get off – what a pity they are standing right in the middle of the crammed bus – get ready for 15 minutes of serious pushing and shoving during which time you will have around four sweaty armpits rammed in your face and find yourself making unwanted pelvic-contact with at least three people. ;)

As I said; a bit of a culture shock after three weeks in calm Costa Rica, but as soon as we had readjusted, we started to enjoy the bus journeys again, people-watching and eating our fill of freshly cut fruit, fried chicken and plantain provided the omnipresent hawkers (you will never go hungry on a Latin American bus!). After crossing the border, a series of these kinds of bus rides and a damp trip on an ancient wooden ferry brought us to our first Nicaraguan destination – Isla de Ometepe (meaning Two Hills in the native Nahatl). The double-peaked volcanic island in the middle of Lago de Nicaragua is home to endless plantain plantations (try saying that five times fast!) and several sleepy little villages on the waterfront. We checked into a sprawling colonial hotel in the town of Altagracia where a double room cost an unbeatable 9 Euro a night and settled in for a few relaxing days. Because we had heard that ascending the twin volcanoes (Maderas 1394m and Concepción 1610m) was exhausting and that the view was not that rewarding (and because we have become lazy over the months :P), we decided against the climb and instead hires bicycles to explore the flat(ter) parts of the island. After a few hours of picturesque waterfront pedaling we rewarded ourselves with a few ice cold beers at a lovely beachfront bar on Playa Santa Domingo (which we found to be the nicest on the island), watching a spectacular storm roll in and blot out the view of the volcanic peaks (all the while feeling pleased we had decided not to climb them!).

Parade on Isla de Ometepe

Remnants from the DDR are all over Nicaragua

More connections to East Germany - Flor de Caña, Nicaragua's national rum, won a prize at the Leipziger Messe (second from left)

A perfect spot for a couple of cold drinks after all that cycling on Isla de Ometepe

After a few relaxing days in the middle of the lake, we headed off to Granada for the last chance to catch up with some great friends we have met in five different countries over the last five months. After a fitting farewell celebration :) (miss you guys!) and a couple of days appreciating the colonial beauty of Granada (unfortunately marred by the number of tourists), we were off again on some more of those colourful bus rides.

Old colonial charm in Granada

Endless old churches

More fascinating street art

The famous Granada Cathedral - it even made it into the front cover of the Central America Lonely Planet

First a short hitch to the capital Managua, then a long haul across the entire country to the Caribbean outpost town of El Rama. After a short night’s sleep we were up again at 4am to catch the first panga (speedboat) down the Río Escondido to the rough-and-tumble pirate port of Bluefields. The town is a world if its own, where time trickles, everyone has a big white smile and everything is just a little dodgy J It was named after the Dutch pirate Blewfeldt who made the town his base in the 17^th century, and it still retains a wild, buccaneering edge. We stayed in a cheap-as-chips ‘hotel’ which catered mostly to ‘ladies of the night’ and their clients. It sported exposed wiring and a multitude of ‘mysterious’ stains on the walls and was home to unknown animals that nibbled on our soap in the night. J But it only cost 5 Euro a night, it was central, it had cable TV and Wifi and a balcony which allowed us to watch the nightly goings-on in the streets below, and we thoroughly enjoyed the slightly crazy atmosphere of the place. J

Our 'hotel' in Bluefields - the sign really says it all :P

Hmm, seems our roommates the mice got a bit hungry in the night :P

This is an example of why we had big troubles understanding the Caribbean version of English spoken here - translated this says ' Don't come and mess up/litter my neighbourhood' :P

After a few fun nights in the loud, largely lawless town, we were sitting on a boat, this time on the open sea on our way to the Corn Islands. Six hours and two thunderstorms later (we were proud to be among the few gringos on board who didn’t vomit!), we arrived – and fell in love with Big Corn Island immediately. It has everything you could wish for in a Caribbean island – turquoise waters, white beaches, palm trees, coral reefs, perpetually friendly locals and an extremely unhurried pace. Everyone knows each other, everyone lives on their porches and leaves their doors wide open, and no one is in a hurry, ever. Everything has a slightly decaying tropical charm; verandas sagging, paths crumbling, mildew creeping up the walls. The beaches are full of happy children with glossy skin who spend all day in the water. Almost everyone speaks like Bob Marley. The sound of waves gently breaking is omnipresent. And best of all, because it is the rainy season, there are very few other tourists to spoil the authentic island charm.

Ships' graveyard at El Bluff near Bluefields

Our ride to the islands - felt like a nutshell during the storms :P

Arrival!

Bob Marley is ever-present in the Caribbean..

Little water-babies - the kids on the island are never out of the water for long

Mobile network advertising on the island - in the rain

One of the most well-loved taxis on the island :P Still going strong!

After checking out several places to stay, we quickly settled on a wonderfully decrepit hotel with an enormous breezy balcony right on the waterfront that has been our home for two wonderfully relaxing weeks. Aptly named ‘Beach View’, the crumbling old hotel is the perfect spot to hang out in our hammocks, read, swim, sunbathe, relax, take time out – and occasionally do some work. Although we don’t really want to admit it, we will have to rejoin the real world at one point, so we have used the time here to start the process of applying for jobs and planning for our re-integration into society. But even doing work in such beautiful surroundings doesn’t seem too strenuous – and anyway, we never do more than a couple of hours a day! J We spend the rest of the time doing little more than planning where we are going to have our lobster dinner every night – usually it is Sevas Restaurant, which serves the tastiest lobster dishes on the island for just over 5 Euro! It goes without saying that we have almost exclusively eaten lobster for two weeks straight – lobster in garlic sauce, in Caribbean sauce, grilled, fried, steamed, in soups and salads – we just can’t get enough. And when we do feel like something else, we can always ‘slum it’ by ordering prawns or freshly caught fish….we are in heaven! J Remind us again why we have to rejoin the real world?