A short recap from before: We were on Utila waiting in the rain. After the second daily ferry was shut down because of bad weather around 2pm, the usual suspects were up to no good, the rum was already freely pouring to let us wallow in our sorrows of not being able to leave the island. The procession of consumption followed thusly, first at civilised volume we would play out some card games on the rain porch at our hostal and have tasty mixed rum drinks. The next stage would be the cards are on the floor, civilized volume has changed to naught and the mix was gone. We convinced each other that dirty martini shots were a good idea: Straight gin and an olive or to simplify even furthur, take a teaspoon of gin and snort it into each nostril for sinus clearing and bliss. Things were getting out of hand. Once the cards were picked up and stuffed into a too small card box we waddled down to the pizzeria for another stage to consume some alcohol absorbing pizza dough with pepperoni and cheese. While waiting for said pizza, we reached a whole new level of depravity: suicide tequilas. To completely contradict normal tequila consumption (at least outside of Mexico) whereby you lick salt off your hand shoot tequila, follow up with chewing on a lime, delicious you´re great. A suicide tequila is somewhat risky for… snort the salt, have your drinking companion squirt lime into your eye and amidst sensory overwhelment try to find the tequila to put down your throat as it is the best thing happening by this point. The last stage of this exercise in depravity had us arriving back at the hostel having another drink or two and immediately passing out before the bell tolls 9pm.
By this point we had already decided to charter a plane to leave Utila and expecting the inevitable, ¨sorry the weather is too bad¨ that we got used to waiting for the ferry, we weren´t quite surprised to be standing on an empty tarmac at 7 am, with bleary eyes, wondering if someone was taking the piss. Where is the plane, where is a pilot? Want a gin martini? Eventually a four seater Cessna landed and Sam, Marie and I were likening said plane to a micromachine toy as if it was just a joke plane, but it was the real deal. This tiny piece of avionics would easily fit into any two car garage and we were gonna fly it over the ocean!? We were excited and relieved to be getting off the island. Utila is a fabulous place, but I recommend it not in the wet season. A friend of mine told me once that there were three lies about Utila that people would come to know and use: “I´m leaving tomorrow”, “I´m not going to drink tomorrow” and “I love you”. Needless to say we never imagined rain would be the reason we could not leave.
The pilot started the single prop Cessna after a few campy shots with the plane. Sam and I crawled into the back and Marie hopped up in front with the kindly pilot. As a result of the previous evening rum, gin and suicide tequilas we were a little queasy and uncertain about this small aircraft flight. Once we got to altitude and saw a stellar view of Utila through the clouds, Sam and I realized that something was going on in front. The pilot gave Marie the extra controller and she was flying!!!! His hands were in the air telling her in sign language what to do as it was too loud to use actual words in this impromptu flight lesson. Sam and I had a look of pure fear painted across our faces and began to weep and hold onto each other, terrified of losing the rest of our bodies in the direction of our stomachs. Marie surprised us and herself as despite the odd stomach churning dip, she had no problem maneuvering the plane. As we were coming across the gap back to La Ceiba on the mainland, surely we thought he would take back the controls for a landing. Nope. His hands were in the air again just for the benefit of Sam and I, and quickly we changed our shorts again in the expectation of doom. Marie, I might add has never flown a plane. She landed it fine and we were all a little bit relieved to get on solid ground. Despite the stressful aspects of the 20minute flight we thought, “thats how you should be able to leave an island!” We hopped on a bus for Tegucigalpa and encountered a posse of tourists who informed us that, after all, that morning the ferry had actually left the island. We weren´t as upset by this news as we should have been, having just spent 2 days budget on a plane. After all, what an experience!
Marie and I decided to head straight for Nicaragua, we arrived in Tegucigalpa, quickly said goodbye to Sam who was visiting friends in town and hopped in a taxi to a different terminal across town. Our highly skilled taxi driver managed to block the the bus 8which was already in the process of leaving) so we could get on it and get to the Nicaraguan border. I managed to stand roughly where the window popped up on the ceiling (the only place tall enough for someone of my stature)and stood there for a couple of hours and eventually got the opportunity to sit down. Sigh…chicken buses. W e arrived in a small town just north of the border and found our way to a hostel and managed to get some delicious Chinese food (?¿!) minutes before the restaurant closed. Everything by minutes could be the theme of the day.
The next morning we crossed to the border, checked out of Honduras and walked the international bridge and paid our way into Nica. We got on to yet another chicken bus and made it into the beautiful town of Leon a stronghold for Sandinista support during the civil war, which by the way is over, so you should check it out. Nica is one of the safer Central American countries. Leon supports a large liberal arts scene, it is the home of poets, writers and painters. Poets (to Marie´s delight) get a lot of respect here, after all it is here that the poet Rigoberto Lopez Perez dressed as a waiter and assassinated conservative dictator Anastazio Somoza Garcia under who had ordered the assassination of General Augusto Cesar Sandino ( SANDINistas) whose nationalist policies directly antagonized the United States enough for them to support Somoza and facilitate a well operating banana republic. An old story.
The remains in Leon have some old graffiti and murals and even bullet holes. Marie and I had a wonderful and informative tour lead by a hot dog stand lady / historian wearing a whimsical t-shirt with a care-bear on it, whose lecture helped us understand Nicaraguan politics a bit. Nicaragua is a poor place so the more ways you can make money, the better chance you have to get your kid through school and food on your plate. Leon also boasts the largest cathedral in all of Central America, a regular behemoth of Roman Catholic heaven. When issuing financial requests of the Spanish superiors they purposefully showed modest estimates and plans and managed to finance the beginning of construction of it in 1747 and it took about a hundred years to complete. Leon also has probably the best modern art gallery south of Mexico City in Central America, with a large European selection as well as pre-colombian ceramics and contemporary Nicaraguan displays. I really enjoyed it and Marie educated me a bit on different styles of painting in a very non-intimidating gallery.
From Leon with Sam again in tow we moved on to Granada via a short yet delicious stop in Managua. Love that Nicaraguan chicken and gallo pinto… a huge plate for $2! We found a fantastic hostel that was a bit cheaper than the recommended ones. We spend a few days wandering about avoiding tourist prices in bus stations and street meat markets. The local delicacy, vigoron, includes steamed yucca root, topped by pickled cabbage and deep-fried pork rind (chicharron) it was tasty, once, you can´t eat that all the time. We went down towards the Lake to see if we could make out the island of Ometepe, that boasts a double volcano as its foundation, Volcan Maderas and Concepcion. It creates a neat little place rich in volcanic soil and nice swimming beaches. In Granada our excitement was rising as our good friend from Canada, Draw, came down to Nicaragua for barely a week to hang out with us and certainly showed up in style. Draw rolled out of the taxi with sacks of well-aged scotch which he may or may not have opened on the ride from Managua. We continued on to a bar and we all got a very entertaining performance of our well loved friend who managed to peak the interest of a couple local ladies (of the night) who proceeded to slap him on the rear a couple of times and made an extended exit to return to the hostel. The next morning my father sent an email concerned about an earthquake on the Guatemala-Mexican border wondering if we had felt any shaking, my response essentially was that the only rumblings I felt were from Draw´s unsettled dreamy scotch sleep snoring.
Draw, Sam, Rob, Marie and myself were five now and the next day found ourselves in a taxi headed to Laguna Apoyo which is a crater lake that sits inside of an old Volcano. We spent the day having some beers and swimming in the hot Nicaraguan sun, much different than our Utila rainy experiences. It was a lovely day. We showed Rob, another photo junkie, the remains of a hospital we found the previous day and explored its collapsed rooms and wards that created a fairly creepy photo locale. The following day we headed to Ometepe island on Lake Nicaragua via Rivas and another ferry. Somehow as a result of naps and all kinds of tired, we arrived at a hostel with a nice pier and a whole lot of “No”. While travelling we have come across two general types of hostels, hostels of “yes” and hostels of “no”. This one had an owner who prided himself on having as many signs up posting rules and regulations as possible, while lamenting the loss of the Samoza dictatorship. We spent our time somersaulting into the lake, drinking beers and eating at the cheap tienda down the way. One day we climbed Volcan Maderas for stunning views of Volcan Concepcion, Lake Nicaragua and another crater lake up at the top. Did I mention we enjoyed scotch all the way up and down?? This volcano was grown over with jungle, filled with howler monkeys and provided a nice change from totally exposed summits that I am used to, we were able to liken it to “locations” from the film Avatar as we climbed with our feet and hands wrapping around gnarled roots and vines (which we sliced open and drank from) creating a pleasurable climb.
After perfecting sun set somersaults and another night drinking, poetry jamming and great conversation, Draw, Marie and I headed for the surfer paradise San Juan del Sur to finally reconnect with our long lost travel mate, Kira. After a night or two in town with Kira we arranged with a real estate company the renting of a three tiered luxury home with a swimming pool overlooking the Pacific, it comfortably sleeps 9 people. This place is stunning! I have never been in a house so opulent before, what an experience! With boxes of supplies we lapped up the luxury of high living, communal family suppers, parties with a few locals, poolside parties, air conditioning, crates of beer and rum. The addition of another half a dozen hand-picked people we had a fantastic little vacation from our already epic vacation and got to know new friends and old ones that rejoined. Devin showed up after months of not seeing him and Sam, Rob and Cassey reappeared. We ran into Elijah who we had met in Utila and he was down for the cause. Sarafina and her mother Theresa (who are from Moab!) who we had bonded with on Ometepe joined up and after Draw left (far too soon by the way) Tjebbe, joined us. Our regulars included Tony and Oscar, two El Salvadorean fun lovers with whom we had some fun times (redundant?). It was opulent (25$ a day per person after all was said and done) and yet very necessary. We spent three nights there and it seemed a lot longer, it was great.
Our final morning we made tracks to friends places or other hostels with the mission being, to drop off stuff, regroup and head to the music festival that was happening that day. Earthship Pitaya Festival (http://www.earthshippitayafestival.com/) was in its second year and boasted a great fun time for children and adults alike, lots of beer, lots of music both local and from abroad with a great stage and people and fire spinning and it was supporting great charities on the grounds of an Earthship, a home made from totally recycled materials and is self sustaining from various sources of alternative energy. Very cool. At the end of the night some festivals goers caught regular shuttle buses back to San Juan or faced the imminent, ¨there are no more buses¨. Your other option is to jump in the back of a pickup and hope it does not take you right back to the festival from where you just walked ten minutes from. And if you still aren´t satisfied you can walk down again, try to convince an armed security guard to borrow his shot gun for the potentially dangerous long walk home. But if you wait, the first truck that drove you back to the party when you wanted to leave just might pick you up to return you to your destination for a pittance and the ability to eat a fantastic hamburger. Thanks for the indulgence, it was a fun, funny ride home.
We moved out of Kira´s housemates (who helped organize the festival) house and plan to head to Playa Madera just north of town tomorrow. This place is a paradise where four years ago I had a nasty time with a nasty wave that nearly killed me and left me with a busted neck.
Surfs up. Maybe with a slight bit of hesitation…
Paul and Marie
