Dia Uno After crossing the thinnest section of Nicaragua, from San Juan del Sur to San Jorge, we leaped onto a 40-foot boat and lugged off into choppy afternoon waters with our gaze steadily fixed on the smoking cone ofVolcan Concepción looming in front of us. The rugged old lancha rolled and bucked as wave after wave broadsided the hull. We did our best to hold on and not loo like land-lubbers, but it took most of the hour-long trip to gain our sea legs. The first night we stayed at an over-priced hostel on the water with a beauty sunset in hopes of meeting our friend Jess. No luck there so the next morning we threw on our packs and hoofed the 8kms to our intended destination, a permaculture farm/hostel called El Zopilote. We figured ... read more

We arrived in Granada just before sunset and stumbled around in search of a good hostel for a bit. The wider streets and taller buildings with over-sized doors made it feel as if a smaller Nica city had held it's breath, puffed out it's cheeks and forced itself to expand a few feet in every direction. We found our way to the chaotic market district and a glorious old hostel run by a classic old couple (she called him 'Jefe'). The building was ancient and character filled with 15-foot ceilings, palatial hallways and an untouched living room that was part christmas-light-Jesus-shrine and part tea-party-for-teddy-bears. The broad double doors felt like you were moving whole trees when opened out onto the sunny courtyard. Next door was a branch of the Wal-Mart-owned Pali grocery store; all white and ... read more

It took us a day and half to reach the dusty mountain town and former Sandanista stronghold of Estelí, Nicaragua. Estelí was at the violent front lines of the war for independence in the late 70s and fierce patriotism still permeates the city. Once there, we realized we had brought more than memories from Honduras... we spent most of the next four days in close proximity to our private bathroom. When we finally re-emerged, we ran into a scraggly, Spanish-slinging Jess, a friend from Portland. With a little time to explore, we found Estelí to feel a bit like one might imagine mid-20th century Colorado - dusty and arid, clear, sunny days and lots of guys in jeans and cowboy hats with thick, metal belt buckles. The people were nice, nicer than most since we left ... read more

Río Dulce After a wonderful week in San Andrés, we climbed back on the gringo trail and headed for the Honduran border. Our last stop in Guatemala was Río Dulce (Sweet River). It was a cramped and dirty town, centered around tourist buses and street stalls tightly packed on the only road in town - it was a very drastic change after our week in sleepy, non-touristy San Andrés. We took a small motor boat across Lago de Izabel (which empties into the river) to our hostel - a bamboo and thatch complex with a bit of a tiki-bar vibe. It was fun to feel like travelers again, sipping red wine and exchanging books and stories with other mochileros (backpackers) from around the world. The main attraction of Río Dulce is the hot spring waterfall at ... read more

Getting there We were sitting in an internet cafe in Flores with our bags packed on a Sunday afternoon, not knowing exactly where we were headed. We had heard of a small village on Lago de Petén Itzá called San Andrés where classes were offered, but knew nothing else. We searched the web and found an interesting lead - a somewhat lo-fi website seeming to be more geared for volunteering but also touting language school. The other option in the village listed more touristy activities in your free time but we figured we´d rather work when not studying. So we called the number from the site and an American answered. We said we wanted to study/volunteer and he said he´d send a car. An hour later we were driving into the low, late afternoon sun ... read more