Seriously, the past few days have been quite a drain. And for those of you non-traveler types out there I don't know if you would have survived. Basically after leaving Antigua the road has been long and if I count correctly we have been on no fewer than 13 buses and a few taxis thrown in there as well. I guess there was a sort of break when we arrived in the Selva Negra for a night but other than that we have been going on all cylinders. For some reason sitting on a bus all day really wears you out as well. Maybe its because I'm a tall drink of water and I like to stretch my shit out.
Getting from Antigua to Matagalpa (our planned highland stopover for a night) was quite a journey. After leaving La Siesta Boris walked us to the stop and directed us to get on the bus to Masaya. Easy enough and after 5 minutes or so it comes and we hop on. This might have been the worst of the buses since the road was being built ie bumpy, it was overcrowded, and it stopped every 30 seconds or so. Making it to Masaya the bus is a mud pit and we find a bus to Tipitapa. We go here to avoid Managua and the filth that we know it to be. A guy we hiked with had gotten mugged a few weeks before and we try to avoid crime at all costs. Makes sense id say. From Tipitapa to Sebaco and from Sebaco to Matagalpa. All of these are old North American school buses that have been painted in various schemes including, but not limited to, hot like flames, love of Jesus, multi color circus bus, etc. I just cant describe how ridiculous some are on the inside they are all the same and all overcrowded. On the last leg of this journey to Matagalpa Ashley stands up to find his wallet missing. There was an old man who had bumped him a few times and thus we found the very crime that we were trying to avoid. After calling the credit card companies and figuring out what all had been lost we relaxed at Roticeria La Posada for some good ol fried chicken and cold beer. Just when we thought all had been lost in central American humanity the family at the next table sent us a liter of beer for no reason other than kindness. Not all bad folks down here.
Heading up to La Selva Negra or the black forest, a hotel and coffee plantation run by German immigrants, the rain starts coming down. We check into this rather expensive, rather non backpacker kinda place and decide to go for a hike to search for the howler monkeys, pumas, and the elusive quetzal. This ends up being quite a wet venture seeing as how it wasn't raining when we started it shortly started and we were soaked by the time we arrived home. Needless to say rainy weather is not the best time to spot wildlife. Chilled the rest of the night and made a plan to get up early the next morning to make it to Tegucigalpa (capital of Honduras) to continue on to Guatemala the next day. After a mad internet search for buses heading north we find nothing of any substance and head for a travel agent. He finds us a bus leaving Managua at 2pm and getting to Sebaco about an hour later. We take it, eat some bread, and head back for Sebaco to find our Transnica luxury bus. We make it back there what ends up being about 3 and a half hours ahead of time. We hang out in this dirty little town and find a little food stand with some chairs. The family running the place ends up being nice and we hang out for a couple of hours taking pictures with them, talking about the states, and about our travels. Obviously this is what I was told we were talking about. We decide to go stand next to the road for fear that the bus might not know it is picking us up and blow by on the quick Pan American Highway. We end us standing next to the road for about an hour and a half and this is a bad thing because we had expected the bus in the first 30 minutes. See, the problem was that, for some reason, we had the wrong time of day. Our watches were an hour ahead because of daylight savings time or the lack of it and we never really figured it all out. During this extra wait we are contemplating what we can say or do to this dirty travel agent that sold us fake tickets. Luckily the bus finally shows and stops without us even flagging it down and we jump on. This is luxury with plenty of leg room, so much in fact that there is a fold down leg rest. Movies, air conditioning, snacks, drinks, in one word: ejecutivo.
Border crossings were easy if not pushing it since we made it to the Honduras border at about 459pm and it had a closing time of 5pm. Close one but these guys are pros so I guess they know what they are doing. Make it to Tegucigalpa and get a cab to Hotel Hedman Alas the hotel that the bus company that we will be taking the next day to Guatemala owns. We come to find out that there is really no relationship between the 2 identically named entities and we cant book tickets until the following morning, if they aren't sold out that is. That night we ate Chinese food and decided to share an order of chicken fried rice (pretty safe) meant for 5 people. We hadn't eaten too much all day and thought it no problem but it turns out this plate is big enough for about 10 people. Literally the largest plate of food ever. We make it back and our armed guard lets us in. That's another thing I have failed to mention is that every place from ice cream parlors to banks to photo shops have armed guards and these guys at minimum have sawed off shotguns but I have seen Uzis, M16s, and all kinds of high powered hand guns. A bit scared but when they are in your hotel I suppose it is a good thing. Next morning with a 5am wakeup call to get tickets we are successful and get the heck outta town. This is a bus ride leaving Tegucigalpa connecting in San Pedro Sula, the Copan Ruins, Guatemala City, and finally to Antigua. The bus left at 545am and arrived in Antigua at about 8pm. You do the math.
Luckily, the bus ride was quite scenic and we saw the sparsely covered highlands of north Nicaragua change to completely covered and lush forest in Honduras to pine covered to volcano based in Guatemala. Beautiful ride just tiring seeing such movies as K Pax, Assault on Precinct 13, Boat Ride (the most hilarious of the bunch starring Horatio Sans and Cuba Gooding on a gay cruise, just imagine the ensuing antics), Honey, and Hotel Rwanda. I know there were others but I tried to sleep through some of them and apparently succeeded. Made it to Antigua and here we stay. Sweet as town just as cute as can be with cobbled streets and old style buildings and enough church ruins for anybody. It is in the middle of three volcanoes and is a perfect temperature at probably about 75 degrees Fahrenheit. Not much going on here in the 'land of eternal springtime' but the place is a gringo heaven with all its shops, markets, restaurants, cafes, hotels, and bars. It is known for its language schools and the book says all the bars in town make for a bunch of half ass language students and professional partiers. Letcha know later what's going on here later.
Friday, July 29, 2005
Monday, July 25, 2005
G Town What What
I have no idea what that means but I am determined to give the people what they want - more blog!!! Yes I know you are just as excited to read this as I am to write it but I must stick to my mission objective which clearly stated that I would write about any and all significant, and, as it were insignificant events. JK this is all really good stuff.
Riding back from the big fiesta the next day on the 9am ferry we were all wiped out but managed to gain strength through a well cooked breakfast of French toast (don't think the French would do it this way) and instant coffee. Of course I am only used to instant coffee at this point and of all things I do still have a jar of Nescafe in my sack. Never know when you will need a good caffeine rush. So the ferry was nice this time as compared to last where we were being splashed with waves in the bottom of a dirty old boat. Felt like it was a school bus mixed with a slave ship where there happened to be people selling cokes. The first time I felt water running over my foot I thought we were gonners for sure but I came to realize this was common and holes in the boat are really no problem. But, comparably, this new ferry was the bomb. Two TV's, a snack bar, and a rooftop terrace. Those fools up there ended up getting soaked though when the rain came. So with the rain we decided to get a cab after we got back to San Jorge up to Grenada (the g town previously mentioned). This was another tough decision, since they all seem to be these days. We wanted to take the bus but this cabbie said there were no Sunday buses so we believed him since it was raining and he would take us for $18 for a 90k drive. Wouldn't get a deal like that in NYC or Atl for that matter.
Upon arriving in Grenada we didn't know where to stay so we got dropped off at a random corner near a hostel that ended up being closed. We eventually found one called La Siesta that we had heard about and it is quite nice. The French-Nicaraguan couple just opened it 2 months ago and are quite friendly and even eager to try using English for my sake. Remember anything possibly in Spanish I am either making up or interpreting to the best of my ability. We move in this place and alls well and we go hit the town looking for some almuerzo. We are told of the local town specialty and head to the central park to get some. We try to find the northwest corner but have no idea since none of us brought a compass so we just go the closest one. The dish is fried pork skin (pork rinds) on top of vinegary cassava (like Fiji) with shredded cabbage on top and served in the leaves of the cassava (yucca here). Good stuff but even better is the cacao con leche or a kind of chocolate milk thing but really good and fresh and heavenly. After lunch we laze around a bit reading, sit in the park and try the rum raisin ice cream, try to climb to the bell tower of a cathedral during mass, and basically just chill. Had a cerveza at the nicest place in town and headed to backpacker land at the Bearded Monkey for dinner. Got a bottle of the Flor and hit the sack.
Woke up and after much debate decided to stay here for the day and go kayaking on lago de Nicaragua. We only have about 2 weeks to make it to Acapulco and about 10 places we want to see, could be strapped for time to say the least. Anyway, we end up staying and go to the kayaking place to rent them and haggle another Manuel down to $60 for all 3 of us for a 3 hour guided tour. Blows the daily budget outta the water but what can you do? Just have to splash out sometimes. The tour was through this string of over 300 islands just off the coast of the lake near Grenada. We wind through narrow passages in the waterways and deal with big waves on the high seas. Was sweet as and even encountered an island (about 1000 sqft) run by monkeys. There were quite a few and apparently got there through no fault of their own but were now trapped. I have a fear of monkeys, or at least don't like the buggers, and was told that if you get too close they will jump out of the trees on you and start biting you. No good. Stay away. Had a drink at a restaurant out there which actually had a diving board that was a wooden board and the springs of a car I think. Quite ingenious I say. The paddling got tough but since I acquired the nickname 'the rock' from the cab driver on the way over I couldn't let my fatigue show. Steve is obviously 'el bufalo' and Ashley 'the spice'. I think all these names are quite appropriate. The tour ended with a Spanish fort from the 1500s which protected Grenada from alligators or something. Actually this is the only lake in the world with fresh water sharks so it might have been sharks that they needed the cannons for. These mischievous sharks made their way up a river from the Caribbean that later got cut off and they have adapted to the fresh water. Hmm neato. They live really deep and are scared of people now though because the Japanese fished them all for sushi or something so I didn't see one. Grenada is the picturesque Spanish colony from the 1500s reminiscent of New Orleans with a lot more color and people that you don't understand. Pretty sweet place to see some history and how it has survived but we are off for the highlands and hopefully some cooler weather, and less sweat, for awhile.
Riding back from the big fiesta the next day on the 9am ferry we were all wiped out but managed to gain strength through a well cooked breakfast of French toast (don't think the French would do it this way) and instant coffee. Of course I am only used to instant coffee at this point and of all things I do still have a jar of Nescafe in my sack. Never know when you will need a good caffeine rush. So the ferry was nice this time as compared to last where we were being splashed with waves in the bottom of a dirty old boat. Felt like it was a school bus mixed with a slave ship where there happened to be people selling cokes. The first time I felt water running over my foot I thought we were gonners for sure but I came to realize this was common and holes in the boat are really no problem. But, comparably, this new ferry was the bomb. Two TV's, a snack bar, and a rooftop terrace. Those fools up there ended up getting soaked though when the rain came. So with the rain we decided to get a cab after we got back to San Jorge up to Grenada (the g town previously mentioned). This was another tough decision, since they all seem to be these days. We wanted to take the bus but this cabbie said there were no Sunday buses so we believed him since it was raining and he would take us for $18 for a 90k drive. Wouldn't get a deal like that in NYC or Atl for that matter.
Upon arriving in Grenada we didn't know where to stay so we got dropped off at a random corner near a hostel that ended up being closed. We eventually found one called La Siesta that we had heard about and it is quite nice. The French-Nicaraguan couple just opened it 2 months ago and are quite friendly and even eager to try using English for my sake. Remember anything possibly in Spanish I am either making up or interpreting to the best of my ability. We move in this place and alls well and we go hit the town looking for some almuerzo. We are told of the local town specialty and head to the central park to get some. We try to find the northwest corner but have no idea since none of us brought a compass so we just go the closest one. The dish is fried pork skin (pork rinds) on top of vinegary cassava (like Fiji) with shredded cabbage on top and served in the leaves of the cassava (yucca here). Good stuff but even better is the cacao con leche or a kind of chocolate milk thing but really good and fresh and heavenly. After lunch we laze around a bit reading, sit in the park and try the rum raisin ice cream, try to climb to the bell tower of a cathedral during mass, and basically just chill. Had a cerveza at the nicest place in town and headed to backpacker land at the Bearded Monkey for dinner. Got a bottle of the Flor and hit the sack.
Woke up and after much debate decided to stay here for the day and go kayaking on lago de Nicaragua. We only have about 2 weeks to make it to Acapulco and about 10 places we want to see, could be strapped for time to say the least. Anyway, we end up staying and go to the kayaking place to rent them and haggle another Manuel down to $60 for all 3 of us for a 3 hour guided tour. Blows the daily budget outta the water but what can you do? Just have to splash out sometimes. The tour was through this string of over 300 islands just off the coast of the lake near Grenada. We wind through narrow passages in the waterways and deal with big waves on the high seas. Was sweet as and even encountered an island (about 1000 sqft) run by monkeys. There were quite a few and apparently got there through no fault of their own but were now trapped. I have a fear of monkeys, or at least don't like the buggers, and was told that if you get too close they will jump out of the trees on you and start biting you. No good. Stay away. Had a drink at a restaurant out there which actually had a diving board that was a wooden board and the springs of a car I think. Quite ingenious I say. The paddling got tough but since I acquired the nickname 'the rock' from the cab driver on the way over I couldn't let my fatigue show. Steve is obviously 'el bufalo' and Ashley 'the spice'. I think all these names are quite appropriate. The tour ended with a Spanish fort from the 1500s which protected Grenada from alligators or something. Actually this is the only lake in the world with fresh water sharks so it might have been sharks that they needed the cannons for. These mischievous sharks made their way up a river from the Caribbean that later got cut off and they have adapted to the fresh water. Hmm neato. They live really deep and are scared of people now though because the Japanese fished them all for sushi or something so I didn't see one. Grenada is the picturesque Spanish colony from the 1500s reminiscent of New Orleans with a lot more color and people that you don't understand. Pretty sweet place to see some history and how it has survived but we are off for the highlands and hopefully some cooler weather, and less sweat, for awhile.
The Fiesta
So if you were reading the last post you are probably now on the edge of your seats to hear all about the fiesta in Moyogalpo. I know I would be if I were where you are now. Not to rub it in or anything. Anyway, on with the story. We check into the Hotel Aly and it seems alright except for the fact that our room is near 1 million degrees centigrade and smells of something from a swamp (just choose your favorite one, okeefanokee for me) because of all the muddy and dirty clothes that we have in our bags. I have figured out is ok not to wash your clothes for a month if you are in NZ and it is really cold outside but if you are constantly sweating in the muggy heat down here and you are traveling with 2 other guys the rooms can get a little rank. Sorry for the aside but I didn't Want to cast Hotel Aly in a bad light for something that is completely our fault. So we run into some Americans, the Canadian Dan (who hiked the other volcano that day), and an Irish chick. These characters don't really tie into the story other to say that they were there, we ate with them, went to a dance later with them, and generally were pretty good friends with them. I always like to show how I can make friends even though it was really no work of mine. Oh yeah, I just thought of something really funny. We said 'get er done' a lot on the way up the mountain and then after we said 'got er done'. Ha, that's the kinds stuff we can come up with. Also, Manuel told a lot of other bromas (jokes) that I didn't understand but certainly laughed at. Anyway the fiesta.
We wander over to an area of town where we hear a lot of commotion, fireworks, and music after throwing our bags down. The place is packed but luckily the big bull fight hasn't started yet. We go for the seats around the bull ring, pit, field thing that are elevated. They did run us 10 cordobas each (roughly 60 cents I suppose) but were entirely worth it since they were near the tree in the middle. There were already quite a few people there, estimates came to about 300 or 400, most of the males between the ages of 10 and 50 were in the middle. Most of them drunk or drinking. None drunk like the guy passed out below us who finally got dragged up and out of the ring. They were drinking some sort of crappy sugar cane liquor out of plastic bags. This is a typical way of getting a to go drink so it wasn't entirely odd till people started falling down and had dead looks in their eyes. So no shirt guy was the highlight till the bull fight started. He staggered about and kept trying to do anything he could to help set up for the bulls and then he goes and leans on a wall and pees in the middle of the whole thing. He has had his pants open the whole time so I guess this was quite convenient for him. The bulls started coming in and they were small at first and scared for their lives. There were about 20 guys with horses in the ring and they pulled the bulls out of the corral and towards the tree previously mentioned, really just a log with a y on top. They used the y with their ropes through it for leverage and pulled with the horses. Interesting way to start. Once the bull was all the way to the pole they roped him around his neck and got it as tight as possible before putting the ropes to hold onto and around the ol ball sack to make em buck real good. These bulls were so freaked out they were pissing and crapping themselves everywhere. Might be typical cow behavior but was a first for me. Certainly not an animal rights activists cup of tea. The riders were also in age from 10 to 50 and the bulls got up to some real big guys well over 1000 pounds I suppose. The thing is it wasn't really a fight. After the ride they got the ropes off of the bulls and then the red bull towel, blanket things came out and they tried to get it to run around awhile. All during this time no shirt guy is trying to get on just about every bull and trying to help with the ropes and everyone is pretty angry with him and they keep throwing him to the ground and out of the ring. At some point a guy in a yellow NJ Nets shirt shows up and he is, if possible, drunker than no shirt guy. This guy is adamant about getting on a bull and after nearly being trampled at the pole, getting punched in the face and knocked to the ground by another guy out there and attempting to bite the guy for retribution he manages to get on one. The thing was the bull had already run and they had released him when yellow shirt climbs off the fence and gets on backward. Everyone in the crowd knows this is a bad idea and it turns out that he falls off in about half a second and does get trampled while they are trying to pull him away. We heard that in addition to his swollen eye from earlier he got some nasty gashes on his face. Don't know what else but we were pretty scared for him. Some of the other riders were in button up shirts and there weren't many that didn't want to give it a try. It ended on a down note with the last bull not cooperating enough to get tied to the pole and letting it go run about and scare everyone up the fences. The guy who was supposed to ride it looked quite relieved. This may have been the most interesting and crazy cultural experience of my life. Basically a three ring circus, non stop action, not always feel good entertainment, but entertainment none the less perhaps like the gladiators of Rome. That night there was a live band with some countryish Latin music but nothing comparable to the days activities. A lot more people were drunk by then but nothing too amazing. Also cost 50 cordobas ($3) to get in. What do they take us for, fools?
We wander over to an area of town where we hear a lot of commotion, fireworks, and music after throwing our bags down. The place is packed but luckily the big bull fight hasn't started yet. We go for the seats around the bull ring, pit, field thing that are elevated. They did run us 10 cordobas each (roughly 60 cents I suppose) but were entirely worth it since they were near the tree in the middle. There were already quite a few people there, estimates came to about 300 or 400, most of the males between the ages of 10 and 50 were in the middle. Most of them drunk or drinking. None drunk like the guy passed out below us who finally got dragged up and out of the ring. They were drinking some sort of crappy sugar cane liquor out of plastic bags. This is a typical way of getting a to go drink so it wasn't entirely odd till people started falling down and had dead looks in their eyes. So no shirt guy was the highlight till the bull fight started. He staggered about and kept trying to do anything he could to help set up for the bulls and then he goes and leans on a wall and pees in the middle of the whole thing. He has had his pants open the whole time so I guess this was quite convenient for him. The bulls started coming in and they were small at first and scared for their lives. There were about 20 guys with horses in the ring and they pulled the bulls out of the corral and towards the tree previously mentioned, really just a log with a y on top. They used the y with their ropes through it for leverage and pulled with the horses. Interesting way to start. Once the bull was all the way to the pole they roped him around his neck and got it as tight as possible before putting the ropes to hold onto and around the ol ball sack to make em buck real good. These bulls were so freaked out they were pissing and crapping themselves everywhere. Might be typical cow behavior but was a first for me. Certainly not an animal rights activists cup of tea. The riders were also in age from 10 to 50 and the bulls got up to some real big guys well over 1000 pounds I suppose. The thing is it wasn't really a fight. After the ride they got the ropes off of the bulls and then the red bull towel, blanket things came out and they tried to get it to run around awhile. All during this time no shirt guy is trying to get on just about every bull and trying to help with the ropes and everyone is pretty angry with him and they keep throwing him to the ground and out of the ring. At some point a guy in a yellow NJ Nets shirt shows up and he is, if possible, drunker than no shirt guy. This guy is adamant about getting on a bull and after nearly being trampled at the pole, getting punched in the face and knocked to the ground by another guy out there and attempting to bite the guy for retribution he manages to get on one. The thing was the bull had already run and they had released him when yellow shirt climbs off the fence and gets on backward. Everyone in the crowd knows this is a bad idea and it turns out that he falls off in about half a second and does get trampled while they are trying to pull him away. We heard that in addition to his swollen eye from earlier he got some nasty gashes on his face. Don't know what else but we were pretty scared for him. Some of the other riders were in button up shirts and there weren't many that didn't want to give it a try. It ended on a down note with the last bull not cooperating enough to get tied to the pole and letting it go run about and scare everyone up the fences. The guy who was supposed to ride it looked quite relieved. This may have been the most interesting and crazy cultural experience of my life. Basically a three ring circus, non stop action, not always feel good entertainment, but entertainment none the less perhaps like the gladiators of Rome. That night there was a live band with some countryish Latin music but nothing comparable to the days activities. A lot more people were drunk by then but nothing too amazing. Also cost 50 cordobas ($3) to get in. What do they take us for, fools?
The Enchanted Isla de Ometepe
Yes, as of press time, meaning the time that I am writing this, I have already been there and seen the amazing enchanted and quite tranquilo island. This island is certainly not ordinary though. The people of Nica regard it with mystical skepticism and feel a real connection to their roots while on the island. It makes it even more amazing in that lies in the world's eleventh largest lake. I previously thought it was the tenth largest but I have since been informed that I was previously misinformed. I do think I should be a professional writer as well.
After a few uber tranquilo days in San Juan we headed over with a helpful cabbie to the docks to catch a ferry across to the island. It lays in the middle of Lago de Nicaragua and is the result of two volcanoes, one of which is still active. They are called Consepcion (1600m) and Maderas (1400m). We made it to the island and after a taxi, a ferry, a bus ride, and a van ride we made it to a town called Balgue from which the coffee plantation where we would be staying was about a 30 minute uphill walk. Amazingly this was quite a nice walk and we got a cheap watermelon that was never eaten but passed on to other hungry travelers. It was a nice walk mainly because the hour long van ride found us squished in with about 8 to 15 other people at any given time. Not pleasant and to make things worse the road was probably the most rutted out, rocky, and bumpy road of all time. Seriously not good. Interesting drive around Consepcion and through rainforested areas. The towns are all less than 100 people and just seem completely third world. We heard later that less than half the kids make it to 5th grade.
Up at the farm we found many folks we had run into in San Juan and figured we were officially on the 'circuit' (can't find the quotes on this damn Latin America set up keyboard). The reason people come here is to hike up to a lake in the dead crater of the volcano. The people we saw coming down were all moaning about how nasty it was and they weren't lying you could tell by their clothes and shoes. Absolutely filthy, covered in mud. A few smiling faces in the pack but not so many. After seeing this we decided we certainly had to give it a shot and a guide was set up for the next day. He charged us $5 each for a supposed 8 hour hike so we figured at that rate for a personal guide we might as well give him a shot.
Got up pretty early the next morning for our 730 departure on this daunting 8 hour, 1400m ascent. It turned out we left about 830 because the kitchen was notoriously slow and not good at keeping orders straight. It probably didn't help that all 3 of us went by David for the entire stay. So we meet our guide, Manuel, and he seems to be a spry, witty chap in high spirits and up for a good walk up the hill. He told us with all guys in the group that it would take 4 hours up and 3 down. Needless to say I know no Spanish so this is a complete guess, as is everything that I have ever imparted about central America. On the 5k walk up (straight up) we saw all kinds of cool things and met another expat American down helping the school development of Nica. We saw how they grow the coffee, some petroglyphs, some giant beetles, cicadas, parrots, a crab, and cacao trees, probably some other shit too that I don't remember. So the petroglyph we saw was for the rain god which is what the volcano was formed from or for or something but he told us a story that they came and prayed at these carvings for rain and if that didn't work they would actually sacrifice a human and give the blood to the rain god and that almost always worked. Seemed like quite a jump to me without a sacrificial goat or something in between but I guess you just don't know what was going on about 300 AD.
Further up the trail we encountered beetles where the big males were about the width of your palm. These guys were huge and they meant business. Actually they in no way hurt you but they have rhino horns on the front and we were told that men cut the heads off, cover them in silver or gold and wear them on a necklace to attract women on the island. I didn't see any evidence but thought it an interesting idea nonetheless. Further up we saw a random crab on the path (at about 1000m above sea level) and some other cool shit that I don't want to tell you about. The summit was very unimpressive because the volcano was covered in clouds but we hiked down and scaled down some cliffs to reach the crater lake. Which wasn't visible either. Ah well. After a tasty chicken sanny we headed out climbing the cliffs and getting really dirty slip sliding all over the place. We caught a few other groups of hikers because we were as fast as a rocket and the Canadian guy Dan and I took off down the hill jumping, sliding, and nearly running down the trail. We made it down in about an hour and a half nearly eating it on several occasions but at the bottom we were still fairly clean and that first Tona tasted like the sweet nectar of the gods that it is. Nuff said. Rolled out of the farm for another shitty ride back to Moyogalpo (the ferry port town) and had some pizza pie after we found that we had missed our ferry and if we took the next one we would miss the bus. Luckily we had heard about a fiesta, festival, bull fight sorta thing and decided to stay on the island another night. This proved quite an interesting decision...
After a few uber tranquilo days in San Juan we headed over with a helpful cabbie to the docks to catch a ferry across to the island. It lays in the middle of Lago de Nicaragua and is the result of two volcanoes, one of which is still active. They are called Consepcion (1600m) and Maderas (1400m). We made it to the island and after a taxi, a ferry, a bus ride, and a van ride we made it to a town called Balgue from which the coffee plantation where we would be staying was about a 30 minute uphill walk. Amazingly this was quite a nice walk and we got a cheap watermelon that was never eaten but passed on to other hungry travelers. It was a nice walk mainly because the hour long van ride found us squished in with about 8 to 15 other people at any given time. Not pleasant and to make things worse the road was probably the most rutted out, rocky, and bumpy road of all time. Seriously not good. Interesting drive around Consepcion and through rainforested areas. The towns are all less than 100 people and just seem completely third world. We heard later that less than half the kids make it to 5th grade.
Up at the farm we found many folks we had run into in San Juan and figured we were officially on the 'circuit' (can't find the quotes on this damn Latin America set up keyboard). The reason people come here is to hike up to a lake in the dead crater of the volcano. The people we saw coming down were all moaning about how nasty it was and they weren't lying you could tell by their clothes and shoes. Absolutely filthy, covered in mud. A few smiling faces in the pack but not so many. After seeing this we decided we certainly had to give it a shot and a guide was set up for the next day. He charged us $5 each for a supposed 8 hour hike so we figured at that rate for a personal guide we might as well give him a shot.
Got up pretty early the next morning for our 730 departure on this daunting 8 hour, 1400m ascent. It turned out we left about 830 because the kitchen was notoriously slow and not good at keeping orders straight. It probably didn't help that all 3 of us went by David for the entire stay. So we meet our guide, Manuel, and he seems to be a spry, witty chap in high spirits and up for a good walk up the hill. He told us with all guys in the group that it would take 4 hours up and 3 down. Needless to say I know no Spanish so this is a complete guess, as is everything that I have ever imparted about central America. On the 5k walk up (straight up) we saw all kinds of cool things and met another expat American down helping the school development of Nica. We saw how they grow the coffee, some petroglyphs, some giant beetles, cicadas, parrots, a crab, and cacao trees, probably some other shit too that I don't remember. So the petroglyph we saw was for the rain god which is what the volcano was formed from or for or something but he told us a story that they came and prayed at these carvings for rain and if that didn't work they would actually sacrifice a human and give the blood to the rain god and that almost always worked. Seemed like quite a jump to me without a sacrificial goat or something in between but I guess you just don't know what was going on about 300 AD.
Further up the trail we encountered beetles where the big males were about the width of your palm. These guys were huge and they meant business. Actually they in no way hurt you but they have rhino horns on the front and we were told that men cut the heads off, cover them in silver or gold and wear them on a necklace to attract women on the island. I didn't see any evidence but thought it an interesting idea nonetheless. Further up we saw a random crab on the path (at about 1000m above sea level) and some other cool shit that I don't want to tell you about. The summit was very unimpressive because the volcano was covered in clouds but we hiked down and scaled down some cliffs to reach the crater lake. Which wasn't visible either. Ah well. After a tasty chicken sanny we headed out climbing the cliffs and getting really dirty slip sliding all over the place. We caught a few other groups of hikers because we were as fast as a rocket and the Canadian guy Dan and I took off down the hill jumping, sliding, and nearly running down the trail. We made it down in about an hour and a half nearly eating it on several occasions but at the bottom we were still fairly clean and that first Tona tasted like the sweet nectar of the gods that it is. Nuff said. Rolled out of the farm for another shitty ride back to Moyogalpo (the ferry port town) and had some pizza pie after we found that we had missed our ferry and if we took the next one we would miss the bus. Luckily we had heard about a fiesta, festival, bull fight sorta thing and decided to stay on the island another night. This proved quite an interesting decision...
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