I had to write about the buses eventually

The bus journeys so far in Central America, have been uneventful.  They have ranged from air conditioned shuttle buses whizzing from one city to another, to packed chicken buses stopping anywhere and everywhere as they wind their way across the country whilst inside we battle away heat stroke.  We have had assigned seats, found our own, and stood.  The aisles have become two way traffic lanes as vendors sell food, goods, and drink.  We have listened as beggars told their story before moving through the bus collecting donations, and pharmaceutical reps spouted the benefit of this or that medication.  

But the trip from Matagalpa to Somoto was a completely different beast.  There didn’t seem that many people waiting for the bus to Esteli, that was until the bus arrived and all of a sudden people converged on the doors from everywhere, running and pushing people out of the way.  Once the dust had settled everyone had a seat, and the chaotic boarding made even less sense.  It was nothing, however, when compared to the trip from Esteli to Somoto.  We were prepared this time, and ready to be part of the push.  We could feel the energy increasing in the crowd as the bus driver got into to the bus marked Esteli.  The crowd swelled out into the rain, ready to make a run for it.  Beside me a lady with a baby was told to move so she would be out of danger, as her friend promised to get her a seat.  I was stationed near the front and Jason headed for the back of the bus.  Before the bus had even come to a stop 20 men had jumped on the back, swinging from the door as they wrenched it open.  I was in the midst of the pushing at the front, people appeared from nowhere squeezing between me and the person in front even where it seemed there was no room.  Jason and I were pushed onto the bus, moved forward by the pressure of bodies, until we met in the middle, neither of us having found a seat.  People continued to board the bus, and the ayudante (helper) instructed us where to stand, making sure every square cm space was used.  Sweat dripped down our bodies which were pressed against at least 4 people at all times.  For a time I stood on one leg, unable to locate enough floor space to put my other foot down.  Jason found his feet frequently used by those looking for floor space, and his cries of pain were ignored as a lady ground her heel into his foot. 

We were so grateful when we finally arrived in Somoto, and located a hotel room.  It was clean, spacious and we even had our own bathroom.  We accepted without a second thought.  Then a few minutes later we found we had no running water in the bathroom... Note to self, check the taps before agreeing to a room!

Churches of Leon and the hills of Matagalpa

To provide a contrast to my backpacker diet theory, I should talk about the food.  Leon was where we had the best local meal so far.  A dish of mashed plantains, some form of meat in a delicious marinade and salad, we opted to have it with chillies.  It was absolutely delicious!  I have been searching for this again, but been unable to locate it.  My other discovery was bags of chocolate milk.  It’s not normally a drink I would favour, but there is very little calcium in our diet and my body is craving milk.  There is the option to buy it in a bottle, or for a quarter of the price you can buy a bag, bite off the corner and drink it down.  Cheap and delicious!

There were other discoveries in Leon, our favourite being the roof of the cathedral.  We had thought it was just a chance to go up in the bell tower, but we were given free reign to wander over the roof.  This particular cathedral was originally supposed to be built in Lima, Peru, where it’s grandeur may have been more fitting.  The roof was two levels of brilliant white domes, littered with stained glass windows.  We had views over the entire city, but it was strangely more entrancing just being amid all that white, beauty within the simplicity. What was not so simple was the museum of myths and legends.  It is housed within an old prison and there are descriptions of the atrocities that were committed, photos, and the walls are painted with pictures of prisoners.  Prisoners being tortured, prisoners sleeping, prisoners trying to escape.  Then there are giant puppets that represent the myths and legends of Nicaragua.  A surreal contrast with the very real and ugly history of the location.  Many of the myths involved witches and curses, and one room had speakers providing the spooky soundtrack to the whole experience.

From Leon we headed to Matagalpa.  This had not been on our planned route, as the Lonely Planet, didn’t sell it very well.  However a very lovely couple we met in Granada had done a much better sale pitch, so off we went.  The city itself was not overly thrilling ,although it did have a beautiful white cathedral at its centre (a common theme we’re noticing).  The real draw was the hiking.  We only had half a day when we arrived, so headed to the nearest reserve hiking to the cross that overlooks the city.  

The best hike though was at Arenal Reserva.  It is a slightly confusing start, as rather than being a national park, it appears that the reserve is managed by a hotel.  We headed up through reception and past the most gorgeous chapel whose roof was covered in jungle foliage.  Once into the cloud forest we planned a route through the crisscrossing trails.  I finally managed to get a photo of an agouti, an animal we have seen many times but never been quick enough to catch on camera.  We walked to the sound of countless birds, and howler monkeys.  But it was not the wildlife that made this place special, it was the forest itself.  It was green and lush, and we were continually stopping just to absorb the beauty of it.  Even better we had it to ourselves.  At least we did until the last 10 minutes of walking close to the hotel, where guests were arriving in droves to attend a wedding.  I couldn’t imagine a more spectacular place to get married.

Backpacker diet

As I sit here watching Jason take in another item of clothing I feel compelled to write about the backpacker diet.  It’s a simple diet, and its efficacy can not be denied, given my informal observation that very few backpackers are overweight.  The premise of the diet is simple and at its heart follows the motto one local used to describe backpackers “more time, less money.”  Well actually he said “Mas tiempo, menos dinero.” and was referring to our decision to wait for a bus, rather than pay more for a taxi - but the sentiment is correct.  

The more time, less money way of life means that you try to avoid buying food, with many backpackers living on only one real meal a day, plus those free pancake breakfasts.  Any food you do purchase must provide maximum nutrition/calories for the cost.  There is also the eternal backpacker dilemma of whether to use their limited funds to purchase alcohol or food.  I’m sure you can guess which wins out most of the time.  (This must be why we’re bigger than most backpackers we meet, we choose food over alcohol.)  The other side of the equation is to avoid paying money for transport.  Taxi? It’s only 2km to my hostel, I can walk with all my belongings on my back.  Bus?  It’s only 6km, I can walk, it’s not like I’m in a rush and who knows what I’ll see on my way.  Then when your diet needs that extra boost, food poisoning is just the thing to drop those last few kilos.  

I think I should market it.  It’s got to be a lot more enjoyable than most intensive weight loss programs, well except for the food poisoning part.

One island, two volcanoes and high expectations.

Ometepe is somewhere I have mixed feelings about.  The expectations were immense - the highlight of Nicaragua, the highlight of central america, love love love, paradise on earth and so it went on.  From other travelers, blogs, guidebooks, the consensus was that Ometepe was THE destination.

Our journey there left us with a slightly unpleasant feeling before we’d even set foot on the island.  It was the first time when we have felt ripped off and lied to by a local bus.  Usually the fares have been either clearly displayed, or we have been obviously charged the same as the locals.  On this occasion, however, we were asked to pay before getting on the bus (a slight anomaly) and when we saw the locals pay it seemed they paid around half of what we did.  Even more unusually towards the end of the journey the conductor started approaching us and the other tourists on the bus about needing a taxi to get to the port.  Then all of a sudden a taxi driver was actually on the bus with him convincing us of the need for his services.  I was fairly certain there was a bus, but the others thought we needed to take the taxi.  Everything was rushed, chaotic, there was a ferry in 20 minutes we were told, if we leave now you can make it.  The price of the trip halved, quickly enough that I’m sure we still paid twice what a local would.  When we arrived at the wharf it was to discover the next ferry wasn’t for 3 hours, and the less comfortable small boat not for another hour.

The money involved was small, but always before bus conductors have been a reliable source of information regarding onward travel.  It set us on edge, and our distrust meter was turned on.  Eventually we did make it to our hotel, but it took 7 hours, 3 buses, a collectivo taxi, and a slow ponderous boat trip with waves splashing in the sides as the crew bailed water out of the belly of the boat.  Not to mention a swarm of touts that had to be negotiated between the ferry port and the bus on the island.

The next day the island did show us why it’s so famous.  It is beautiful.  We were staying in the middle of the island, between the two volcanoes that form it.  Concepcion is a child’s drawing of a volcano, Maderas a smaller, greener version.  We walked along the beach with a volcano in front and a volcano behind, as herons, vultures and hawks flew around us.  As we headed inland blue-tailed magpies flitted between trees, and always a volcano dominated the landscape.  We spent much of the afternoon at Ojo de Agua, where we slipped off the slackline and jumped from the tarzan swing, enjoying the refreshing clear water (with miraculous healing properties, of course).  Later we sat in the gardens of the hostel as everyone gathered together watching as the sky turned orange and the sun set behind Concepcion.  It was magical.   

But even so, for us, it didn’t live up to the hype.  I would still recommend it as somewhere to go, but without the pressure of expecting it to be the best Central America has to offer.

A place to get stuck for awhile

When you’re traveling for a long time occasionally you find a place where you get stuck, Granada is one of those places for us.  We had originally planned 2 days here, but it’s ended up being closer to a week.  We were lulled by the beauty of the city, the hectic chaos of the market, volcanoes to climb, crater lakes to swim in, and a hostel with a pool.  Some days we chilled out, exploring the city for a couple of hours before returning for a swim during the heat of the day.  Other days were much more active (climbing a volcano comes to mind), but all of them were good.  

The volcano in question was Mombacho volcano.  All the guidebooks list it as a good easy volcano to climb, but this is based on taking a tuk tuk from where the bus stops to the entrance and then a truck to the top of the volcano.  This approach lets you enjoy the walks around the rim of the craters, without expending a lot of effort.  This is not the approach we took.  We probably could have spent the dollar for the tuk tuk, but it was only a 1.5km fairly flat walk, so we didn’t.  The truck up the volcano on the other hand costs $20 per person, which in real terms for us meant catching it would equal 2 nights accommodation.    There was no way we were going to pay that when we could walk it.  We were pretty sure we could walk it anyway.  We had heard various rumours about how long the walk takes, 2 hours, 4 hours, just don’t do it.  Any and all of the above.  

It starts off not too bad, although the slope is relentless and we were reminded how bad we are at going uphill.  We had been walking over an hour before we reached the cloud forest, and although the scenery was more beautiful, the slope was steeper still.  Once we got to the top the information centre had a model of the volcano and a guide cheerfully pointed out the near vertical part of the volcano we had ascended in the last 2km of the walk.  I believe it.  

Once in the forest we began to hear howler monkeys, some close, some further away.  Turning yet another corner we suddenly saw movement, monkeys jumping in the trees above the path.  They were everywhere above us and on both sides, and they were calling in full voice.  It was amazing to be so close as they roared, such a loud sound to come from such a small animal.  I was entranced.  We took (yet another) break and pretended it was just to watch and listen to the monkeys, rather than because we were unable to go any further.  

I tried to take photos of the steepness, but it never quite comes out.  For my daily invert I laid down on the road and it was one of the scariest inverts I’ve done as even on the pavers I felt like I was going to slide headfirst down the hill.  

At the top of the volcano we went on one of the hikes around the crater rim.  The views were spectacular with Granada, the 365 islands created from one of the eruptions of Mombacho and Laguna de Apoyo spread out before us.  Stunning, and we felt we had earned it.

The next day we took it easy heading to Laguna de Apoyo, which is a crater lake reportedly over 200m deep.  We could believe it easily, having walked around a crater the day before which was a massive hole with near vertical sides dropping out of sight.  We kayaked, lazed in inner tubes, and jumped off the pontoon into the lake.   Jason attempted to teach me how to do backflips off the pontoon.  He failed.  Although that was probably the fault of the student rather than the teacher.  Then we returned to our hostel, where we quickly got into the pool to cool off from the drive back to town. 

We’re moving on tomorrow, and it’s sad to know that we won’t have a pool to cool us down anytime the heat gets too much.  Although we are going to be staying on an island, so we can probably use the lake.