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Published: April 5th 2012
“The great difference between voyages rests not with the ships, but with the people you meet on them” Amelia E Barr, Writer & Journalist
I have arrived in Costa Rica, the penultimate country on this Central American odyssey and it’s hot. My god, it is hot. But not a comfortable dry heat like northern Nicaragua where it felt like a warm hairdryer was constantly blowing in your face because of the Pacific winds. Nope. Here in La Fortuna in the shadow of Volcan Arenal it’s hot and humid and wet. No matter how many showers a day you have, you feel like your body is coated in a fine layer of sweat at all times. It drips off you even if you are standing still – the backs of your knees, under your chest, the back of your neck – all just damp…permanently.
After an exhausting 14 hour travel day yesterday where the journey involved 2 boats, 2 buses and a border crossing, I have spent much of today lying on my bed in front of my power fan (setting 3 is amazing ;-0) trying to evaporate and failing miserably in not scratching my mosquito bites – my once beautiful legs are a freckled mess of scars and scabs. But this blog isn’t about hot flushes or itchy stings, it is all about Part 2 of my 21 days in Nicaragua – my favourite Central American country so far.
What a place – it has really got my travel juices flowing again. I last left you after our epic summit of Volcan Telica but our volcano encounters were far from over. Nicaragua is riddled with the bloody things. You can’t travel very far without bumping into one – be it dormant, extinct or active and who were we to pass on the opportunity to gaze into more craters and inhale more poisonous gasses (and I’m not alluding to Sandy coping with my continual flatulence!).
We left lovely Leon behind and moved onto the town of Masaya to rest and recuperate – our entire bodies ached for days after the trek and even a massage from a blind Nicaraguan didn’t ease the pain in our calf muscles. However, this didn’t stop us visiting Parque Nacional Volcan Masaya (
http://www.vivatravelguides.com/central-america/nicaragua/masaya-and-los-pueblos/masaya-national-park/ ) on the shores of Lake Managua where the craters of Masaya and Santiago go deep into the earth. The former looks like a wooded depression in the ground but the latter is a gaseous giant hole of noxious sulphur fumes which make it impossible to spend any time at the rim. Local folklore revolves around the belief that the craters are the entrance to hell and this is not entirely implausible (if hell were to exist). Thankfully, sacrificing women and children into the crater to appease the gods no longer takes place but the toxic gases emitted made me feel very ill in a matter of seconds and my whole being screamed ‘get me out of here’. It was deeply unpleasant and relief came when we climbed into one of the lava tunnels formed by a past eruption in search of bats and creepy crawlies. A most bizarre way to spend an evening.
In fact Nicaragua has yielded some exceptionally bizarre experiences….the men here are a law unto themselves. In no other country have we had any hassle and/or interest in us. Even Sandy with her 1m, 75cms of statuesque German blondness (which stands out a mile in these parts) has passed through without so much as a “Hola guappa”. But in Nicaragua she has become a goddess…. The stares, the comments, even a bottom grab at one point. I, on the other hand am ignored (not sure whether to be offended or relieved). My dark colouring and (limited) Spanish speaking abilities have meant that I blend seamlessly into the population and have received not so much as a wolf whistle. That is, until Granada, a somewhat bland colonial town that didn’t capture our imagination at all apart from one particular incident. Those of a prudish sexual disposition should skip the next few paragraphs as I wouldn’t want to offend!
There we were innocently waiting for our ferry to take us from Granada to Altagracia on Isla Ometepe when a Nicaraguan gentleman positioned himself some feet behind us. Instinctively, we wrapped our bags round our ankles (to avoid any potential grab n’ run episode) and continued with our conversation about the joys of Monty Python (Sandy may be German but she totally gets it!). I glanced behind me to check he was remaining at a safe distance and to my surprise / shock realised that he was grasping a certain protuberance and, how can I put this delicately, “stroking the one eyed purple monster”. My reaction? I didn’t react. I simply turned back to Sandy instructing her not to look but to inform her of the sexual gratification the chap was trying to gain from our presence. She agreed with me that we really didn’t want the hassle of heaving all our bags somewhere else (they are heavy, shade was limited and the sun was furious). Furthermore, by moving elsewhere this would perhaps give his predilection for masturbating in public some gravitas. So, we simply ignored him much to his obvious disappointment. By that I mean, nothing came flying over our shoulders!
As he wasn’t getting the attention he craved he moved so he was now standing adjacent to us but still furtively positioned behind a pillar. It was hilarious as every time someone else walked past, he popped his schlong back inside his elasticated track suit bottoms. Now some of you may be shocked that we were not outraged by this anti-social behaviour but to be perfectly honest he wasn’t bothering us and we felt in no physical danger. “Having a session” is what guys do isn’t it….they just don’t generally do it in the presence of others. I remember being flashed at once walking to school with a friend when I was 13 years old and back then, it was truly terrifying. The sight of a man’s “bald-headed yogurt slinger” at such a tender age was most traumatic. Police were involved once we had told the Headmistress of our encounter with a real tally-whacker but now as mature adults, it really didn’t faze us.
With still no climax in sight, and now an accompaniment of indecipherable Spanish groans, we decided it was time to move on and we would just gather our belongings and walk away. The Nicaraguan Masturbator was ignored and so off he wandered to go and have a chat with a policeman that had stopped to investigate a traffic incident a few metres away . A taxi had veered into a tree to avoid a donkey wandering in the street. You see what I mean? All truly bizarre. Reminds me of the time my Mum and I were followed by a Cuban chap “beating his meat” on the Malecon in Havana…happy days!
I should add that of course I do not condone “choking the chicken” in public and had there been children present or we had felt genuinely threatened we would have got the hell out. It was actually rather pathetic and sad and from the looks of it, the poor chap has some erectile dysfunction issues to boot.
Our boat ride to the island of Ometepe (
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ometepe ) saw us arriving as the sun was setting on the Lake’s horizon, making the clouds bleed ochre red and the perfect triangular cone of Volcan Concepcion stood dark and brooding. Ometepe is the largest freshwater island in the world and is shaped like an hour glass in the midst of Lake Nicaragua. Life here was very laid back with a minimal transport infrastructure – a few buses a day trundled round the sole road which hugs the perimeter of the island, petering out to a bumpy track of nothingness on the eastern flank of the extinct Volcan Malderas. The people here are said to be the kindest in Nicaragua, partly because the Revolution and Civil War were never waged here and we didn’t come across any more Masturbators !
SE Asia was all about meeting fabulous Dutch people whereas Central America has been about Canadians. Here on Ometepe we got chatting with a lovely girl from Toronto called Kaye and ended up at the same hotel hanging out for a few days, enjoying the island’s sense of undeveloped remoteness. Its dark sandy beaches lapped at by the waters of the lake, the millions of bugs that swarmed around 330pm each day filling the air and circling madly in the dying sunlight and drinking bottles of Tona or Victoria beer not to mention a night on a bottle of Ron Plata (our preferred alternative to Flor de Cana).
Nicaragua has been the cheapest country to date and here we could go horse-riding for $5 an hour….. A 5hour trek saw the three of us ride up the slopes of Malderas through fincas (farms) of bananas and coffee plantations past families of howler monkeys to view the isthmus of land connecting the two volcanoes and spectacular views of Volcan Concepcion. Wherever you go, its perfect cone, often shrouded in fluffy cloud at the tip dominates the island and serves as a backdrop to any photograph. The ride culminated in a long gallop along the beaches of Santa Cruz and Santa Domingo where I raced across the sands – just me and my horse splashing through the waters and soaking myself. There are few things in life that can rival the joy of a good gallop along a beach…..bliss.
On Ometepe we also bumped into Vancouverians David & Pamela who we had met in Leon and gone volcano boarding with. They were also travelling onwards to the Rio San Juan region (sadly Kaye only had a 10 day hol and was en route home) so we bunked down together on the overnight ferry from Altagracia to San Carlos. A 7hr journey took nearer 11 hours but Sandy and I were so exhausted and aching from the horse-riding that we were asleep on the boat benches by 7pm. I slept remarkably well considering the arrangements – huddled down on a wooden bench hugging our rucksacks to us for safety – earplugs, eye mask and a sarong for a blanket.
The boat totally reminded me of the 5 day trip I endured from Belem to Manaus up the Amazon in Brazil last year….. hammocks were strung out on the upper deck and the lower deck was filled with locals watching an unbelievably loud television (the same volume was on offer in the upper cabin - at an ear drum bursting level so in my fatigued state I went around unplugging the speakers – none of us wanted Nicaraguan music videos blasted at us all night). The boat was weighed down with hand loaded plantains and watermelons and when I woke at about 6am, the sun was just rising as the bows ploughed through the lake waters. Seagulls flanked our passage into the frontier town of San Carlos and immediately we knew we had left the dry heat of Northern Nicaragua behind. Here the heat in the air at dawn was stifling. Mist hovered over the Rio San Juan and the perfume of the moist jungle mixed with the fishy smell of the town.
This area of Nicaragua is off the grid for most travellers – it’s a bit of a ball ache to go beyond San Carlos (many immediately head from here towards Costa Rica). Due to the isolation, prices rise substantially and you are looking at jungle lodge experiences that are out of the budget of most backpackers. However, that is all due to change due to a Nicaraguan character called Marvin who has set up the Grand River Lodge (
http://www.hotelgrandriverlodge.com/eng/index.html ) catering to the budget traveller. He must have spent an absolute fortune on marketing the place as he is not yet in the eponymous “Lonely Planet” and has taken every advertising opportunity possible to promote his venture. We had seen his posters all over Nicaragua and had already decided we were going to hole up in his tranquil haven for a couple of days – and that was before he met the boat to hustle up even more business.
After a standard Nica breakfast of gallo pinto (beans n’rice) and scrambled eggs, the four of us caught the 8am longboat downriver to the middle of nowhere. Here the boat with not another gringo on board, was crammed to bursting (or sinking) point with locals heading to villages only accessible by water. Clouds hung low in the early morning sky and water sprayed into my face due to our low drag. The air was thick with moisture and we spotted monkeys and a cornucopia of birdlife along the banks – egrets and herons stood proud and still - as the longboat sliced through the waters. After 1 and a half hours we reached the Lodge – a collection of coconut palm roofed cabanas set in a semicircle some way back from the river and accessible by a long, rickety boardwalk through boggy ground (a mosquito haven). After a long arduous night we had reached our destination, a cold shower and hammocks awaited us….
It was a charming place where rural Nica life bumped brutally into the face of the traveller….. where geese and pigs troughed amidst the basic dining area. Where cows were milked in an adjacent field and cheese was made under the shade of a mango tree with ducks pecking at the table. A kayak was available to splash about on the river and horses were available for riding although it was so phenomenally muggy and hot, we managed little other than lazing around in the shade, reading and dozing. The cabanas are set in acres of jungle land but much has been cleared for farming. Part of Marvin’s vision is to preserve as much of the secondary rainforest that is left as possible. He has some way to go to make it the place it could be but we had a very interesting couple of days especially because a friend of his was getting married and we were all invited to the celebrations to party “Nica style”!
From far and wide, guests started to arrive and to make room for everyone the four of us all bundled into one cabana (with me in a hammock strung across the middle). It was a mad evening with a BBQ to rival Pasquale’s, Flor de Cana flowing freely and much dancing. Having helped set up for the celebrations, we tentatively joined in with the party – where the Nica men got steadily more drunk and lecherous and the cake was knocked over. However, there was so much joy and fun - certainly way off the average backpacker’s experience of this incredible country. Marvin deserves to make it into the guidebooks but I doubt another evening like the wedding will be experienced by those fortunate to make it to this part of the world!
Things went a bit downhill the following day when the 930am boat heading further East towards El Castillo sailed by, leaving the four of us standing perplexed on the boardwalk. Being a Sunday and the start of Semana Santa week (Easter), all transport is getting steadily more crowded as locals head off on vacation or return to their families. The country, nay the Continent practically shuts down – the whole Jesus thing is a bloody big deal here and we were all concerned to get to Costa Rica before that happened. That meant a couple of more days in the Rio San Juan region but on a very limited boat transport service. We spent the day after the wedding waiting down by the river all day, getting fried in the scorching sun in case another boat came along. Information was scarce and vague but eventually a 3pm boat stopped and we were able to board – all somewhat sunburnt and by now a little mentally unbalanced from the waiting. There are only so many card games one can play before the singing starts…. We were up to songs about boats….. it was painful!
A 3 hour ride took us further East down the river artery to El Castillo, where an 18
th century Spanish fort looks down on this water-only accessible little town and where Nelson did battle with the Spanish forces. It was a charming place and the gateway for us to visit the Reserva Biologica Indio Maiz – 3000sq kms of mostly primary rainforest, home to more than 600 species of bird, 300 species of reptile and 200 species of mammal.
This was another highlight of our time in Nicaragua….the 4 of us managed (just) to get beds at Nena Lodge and shared the hire of a panga (little boat) and lovely guide (the daughter of the owner of the guesthouse (
http://www.nenalodge.com/tours/ ).
A boat ride down the Rio Bartola took us into the reserve where on a 3.5 hr hike through dense, verdant rainforest we came face to face with porcupines, colourful green & black poison dart frogs (
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Green_and_Black_Poison_Dart_Frog ), strawberry poison-dart frogs, Jesus Christ lizards, howler monkeys, ospreys, green iguanas, mot-mots, toucans and even a jaguar paw mark in the mud, among a wealth of other birds, amphibians, reptiles and mammals. Cedarwood and Almond trees soared high into the canopy, orchids dazzled and for me the highlight was my very personal encounter with a spider monkey (
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spider_monkey ).
As our panga arrived at the Ranger’s Lodge where we had to sign in, we noticed this monkey lazing effeminately on the steps of the jetty. Our guide told us that she was captured as a young baby and kept tied on a rope in a hotel somewhere and severely maltreated. The hotel eventually let her go and she was released back into the wild but with no ‘group’ to bond with, and very importantly no parental figure, she failed to adjust back to the jungle and was attacked by other spider monkey groups. Now Daniella (as she is called by the army soldiers stationed in the reserve) is part wild but habituated to humans. The soldiers do feed her but she is free to go wherever she pleases. On this occasion she took a liking to me and as we stood taking some photos, she literally walked over to me and latched on, wrapping her legs round my waist, her arms round my neck and her head down on my chest. It was both terrifying and overwhelming as well. I had no food on me and the guide said she is simply desperate for affection and a mother figure. She seemed disinterested in holding onto anyone else and would not let go of me…I was stunned. I experienced the same feelings as coming face to face with a 100kg, 6metre long anaconda in Venezuela or seeing hummingbirds en masse for the first time in Tobago –totally emotionally ripped apart. It was intense.
I’m kind of scared of monkeys as they have these faces that look like they can tell what you are thinking. Plus, there is the issue of sharp teeth and claws and heck, perhaps even a touch of rabies but there was something about this creature who literally nestled down into my cleavage that was extremely touching. I felt for this poor animal who is obviously still so young and confused. On the one hand she is fed by the army soldiers and allowed human contact but on the other hand shouted at by the ranger – it was awful to watch the way they yelled and hit her when she got too curious with another girl’s sunglasses. I fear for her as if she continues to receive such mixed messages she will behave erratically and if continually allowed near humans could hurt them without realising it.
On the way back to El Castillo we spotted turtles, caimans and crocodiles – all amidst a backdrop of lush intact rainforest – a rare thing in the world these days. Across the river on the Costa Rican side, human infrastructure has encroached…a road is being built and Man is doing its darndest to capitalise, exploit and eventually destroy one of the most incredible environments in the world.
Wow – this is a long blog update! Hope you are still with me. Nicaragua has been a wonderful 3 weeks – not just the things we have seen or done but also (as the quote at the start of this blog suggests), the people we have met. It makes all the difference!
Next update will be Costa Rica based….at the moment I’m back in front of the power fan dying from the humidity.
Han x
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John Rica
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Map of Central America Countries
Very awesome and interesting to read. I liked it and enjoyed reading it.