When we last left you we were on our way to playa Madera and Playa Majagual outside of San Juan Del Sur Nicaragua, better known as Broke-Neck beach to some. These two prime surf-beaches are a short collectivo ride from San Juan Del Sur and boast a beautiful shoreline away from the city with a lot less visitors. Most people find themselves on these beaches for a day trip or a surf outing, but a few stay on and rent one of the few rooms available or camp on the beach. Since we were traveling sans tent, we stayed at Camping Matilda’s. This place is a cozy and beautiful retreat where you can surf for a few hours walk the sandy beach, checkout the tidal pools on the rocks or while away an afternoon in a hammock.
When we ambled up off the beach backpacked and sweat-soaked, we were delighted that Alvaro, the young manager recognized Paul from his stay there 4 years ago. For those of you that don’t know, this is the very beach upon which 4 years ago, my hubby-to be broke his C-7 while wrestling with a wave. Needless to say that accident cut his trip short and this was his first time back to that ill-fated beach. We were welcomed with open arms and after settling in, decided to walk the beach so Paul could show me where the accident happened.
It was late afternoon and the only other person on the beach was a local lady who ran a grass-hut restaurant. As we walked past her she pointed up the beach towards the place where sand gives way to foliage and said, “tortuga”. We followed her pointing finger and saw a greenish lump in the sand that could have easily been mistaken for a rock. We thought, “if that is a turtle, it must be dead and washed up by the high tide”. As we got closer to investigate we realized not only was the turtle very much alive, but she was nesting. It was a large Hawksbill sea turtle, the very same species we swam with while diving in Honduras. We stood in quiet awe a mere 10 feet away and watched as this mother struggled on unfamiliar land to lay her eggs in the hole she had dug just beyond the high tide line. It was pure magic. I don’t know how to convey what it felt like to be on this isolated beach watching this beautiful creature struggle to create the potential for new life. When she finished laying we watched as she laboriously scooped sand, with flippers that are clearly meant for swimming not digging, over her nest and tamped the damp sand with the weight of her body. It was different to see this clumsy animal on land that looked so graceful under water. They spend most of their lives in the water but come ashore to lay their eggs. We followed at a discreet distance as she would struggle a few feet towards the ocean, then stop for break. You got the sense she was sighing with exhaustion. We stayed on the beach until she made it past the worst of the crashing waves and disappeared in the ocean.
Life is so strangely circular. How can it be that the first time Paul returns to beach that almost took his life, we are given such a gift?
We rode that karmic wave for the rest of our ‘muy tranquilo’ week at Matilda’s. We spent our days: hammock-reading, beach-walking, wave-jumping and we even rented surfboards for few hours to try it out. It was not the best conditions in which to swim as we often saw stingrays of various sizes riding the glassy sides of waves as they crashed towards us. Sam and Rob, our Manchester boys, joined us for a few nights at Matilda’s. The boys tried their hands at spear fishing but didn’t catch anything because they refused to bring in juvenile fish. Bad men 
Good thing that a fisherman with lobsters dropped by Matilda’s with his catch! We bought a lobster each for about $2.50 Canadian a piece and cooked them that night over an open fire. Who says backpackers don’t eat well?
After relaxing at the beach for a week we returned to San Juan Del Sur to meet up with Kira and start our journey towards Panama and its legendary Carnivale festivities. Elijah went ahead on his motorcycle and we caught a bus to Monte Verde, one of Costa Rica’s Jungle wildlife reserves. We wanted to minimize our time in Costa Rica as it is the most expensive of the Central American countries. However, we couldn’t pass through without first checking out the cloud forests and canopy ziplines.
The bus wouldn’t take the windey road into the mountainous park so we got dropped off on the highway side in the dim twilight of encroaching night. Usually we are prepared for travel days with long bus rides and pack the appropriate sandwiches and snacks. This time we were not. By the time we got dropped off on the side of the highway all that we had eaten was a little duty free chocolate and rum from the Nicaragua-Costa Rica border crossing. We found ourselves sitting on our backpacks, with our thumbs out in the quickly darkening evening, nursing growling stomachs. We eventually got a ride that night and ended up checked into a friendly hostel, but we went to bed hungry as there were no restaurants open in the town of Santa Elena at 11pm. Elijah had met up with another traveling biker named Charlie on his way into Costa Rica. Charlie turned out to be a seasoned burner (someone who attends the Burningman festival that we started our trip with) and became fast friends with our ever growing posse. The boys and I ventured into the cloud forest to zip through its canopies while strapped into a climbing harness. We rode 13 separate ziplines connected by walkways and platforms in the trees. The trees were magnificent in size and beauty, describing an abundance of life that rival the landscapes created in Avatar. There were even a few howler monkeys around to complete the picture. The highlight was definitely the nearly 1 km long “Superman” zipline, where they strap you onto the line head first, super-hero style. Crazy! Paul did the whole day with a video camera taped to his helmet so be sure to check facebook for the videos.
Having seen what we wanted of Costa Rica, we hightailed it the following day to Las Tablas Panama. We landed in town in the early afternoon the day the Carnivale festivities started. Needless to say, we had a hard time finding a place to stay. After hours of fruitless searching via a phone and impossibly short, yet expensive phonecards, Kira and I found a lovely hotel (with a pool! And A.C.!) that would let the four of us share their last, tiny, one-bed room. We were relieved to have a place to leave our bags and decided we could alternate floor/bed shifts for what little sleep we were going to get that week. So it began.
My goodness, do Panamanians ever know how to party! Having chosen Las Tablas rather than Panama City to celebrate in, we found ourselves in a similar situation as we did for Dia De Los Muertos: There were very few other gringos in town and most of the revellers had come from the city. A basic rundown of the typical Carnivale day goes like this: Wake up bleary eyed around 9am and amble to the main square to participate in a city wide water fight. Drink beer. Get soaked by children and water trucks. Eat some fried chicken and rice from a street vendor. Go the 2pm “after party” in a broke-down warehouse with sprinklers running full tilt. Dance. Take pictures of the beautiful gay boys vamping it up for your camera. Drink more beer. Maybe squeeze in a two hour siesta. Eat fried chicken and rice from a street vendor (seriously, it was that or pork rinds). Get dressed for the evening. Go to the main square to participate in the parade. Hula-hoop, poi-dance and gyrate with transvestites behind the slow-moving, AmazingBeautifulHuge floats filled with sequins, peacock feathers and beautiful women adorned with sequins and peacock feathers. Drink beer. Be a part of the parade. Eat some meat on a stick. Drink beer. DANCE! If you still have energy, go to one of the big outdoor clubs and dance all night. Repeat.
Every night the parade had entirely different floats and the fireworks seemed to progressively get bigger and better. After the first couple of nights our posse became a little infamous for dressing up and participating by spinning poi and hula-hooping. We were definitely on live Panamanian television a few times and our dancing always drew a crowd. Throughout the week we meet and partied with various groups of other travelers and our friendly hotel manager even let them come over and use our pool! I’m happy to report we made it through Carnivale alive with one scraped up knee as our only injury.
After the fest we spent a few days sleeping and relaxing in Chitre, Panama. We said goodbye to Elijah as he had to fly home to retrieve parts for his motor bike. Even sadder yet we had to say goodbye to Kira, my travelling sister and our main partner in crime for our entire trip. Kira flew home to take care of her back and sew some more of her beautiful creations in reparation to sell them at the summer’s festivals. Once again it was down to Marie and Paul. It has been so nice on this trip to see our traveling family swell to accept so many wonderful new people. Equally, it is always nice to be Just Paul and Marie again. as we waited in the San Jose airport to catch the first leg of our flight to Mexico I realized that our feet were pointed North again for the first time in a while. Although we won’t be moving into our Victoria apartment until May, this next step on our trip signifies the start of the slow journey home. I’m so pleased that our last few weeks in Mexico will be spent with our families.
Next stop: Cabo San Lucas for Booie and Steve’s wedding and a week of family, new friends and fun in the sun!
