Road to Ometepe

We decided to put the rain covers on our backpacks, not necessarily because of the weather but also as a security measure since we would have to put them on the top of the bus; the night before at the hostal a girl told us a story about how her shoes were stolen from the top of the bus since they were attached to her bag and not inside. We made reservations at Dorado for our return and then headed through the Mercado Central towards the terminal; we found the bus to Rivas, and we were really lucky not only because we managed to get seats, but also because our bags were able to fit inside the bus. Along the hour and a half ride we met Martin, a traveler from Germany, who had a few issues fitting into the narrow seats considering how tall he was. Once we entered in Rivas, as soon as the bus stopped, a mob of taxi drivers jumped towards us, moving to every window where a gringo was sitting and solicited rides to San Jorge, where we would take the ferry to the island. Having been there before, I knew not to fall for that, since at the terminal for Rivas there was always a minibus ready to take us to the same place for less than a quarter of the price, and in the process we also helped Martin save a bit of money as well.

In Rivas we basically jumped from the Granada bus to the minibus to San Jorge, and in the process also missed the ´touching guy´who got us all the other times I passed there in the past. The ride only took about 20 minutes, and as we got to the ferry dock, I noticed another big difference: all the beach huts were completely gone, no doubt a result of the tropical storm that affected this entire part of Nicaragua. We bought our boat tickets and had a bit of time to wait, so we met a few other people heading to Ometepe as well, amongst them Ryan, a Kiwi guy who spoke with such a thick accent that we almost needed subtitles to understand him, and often times we just smiled and nodded, needing a translator from English to English. We boarded the lancha, significantly smaller than the ferry I took before, and found some seats on the bench in the back of the boat, which didn´t have any railings, and we were wondering whether we would slide off if we hit any big waves along the way. At least they gave us life jackets, which we used as cushions for the ride across the lake, where we could barely see the summits of the two volcanos on the island due to the thick haze.

Arriving in Moyogalpa, I knew the chicken bus would always wait for the ferry´s arrival, but we were dissapointed to find out that it only went to Altagracia, not all the way down to Santo Domingo, which was our final destination for the day. We debated waiting for another two hours for the right bus or taking a cab, and we found a guy that had a minibus and was willing to take us to Santo Domingo for a fixed fee, so we all scattered around to gather more people who were heading our way to decrease the cost per person. Ironically, we all found takers and we had too many people, but in the end we filled the van and we were on our way. We had quite an enjoyable ride, not only because of the beautiful scenery, with volcanos on each side, but also because our company on the bus was very entertaining. We were traveling with these two guys, who, even before leaving Moyogalpa, wanted to buy a few bottles of rum, not for once we got there but for the ride over! I assured them there would be stores in Santo Domingo too, so they reluctantly agreed to move on; during the trip they told us a crazy story about how drunk they were even before getting on the ferry a few days before, and how, for the fun of it, they took a few valiums as well. Well, surprise surprise, they woke up the next day without most of their belongings, sleeping on some stranger´s floor, who promptly kicked them out. Though the story was entertaining, we made a mental note to go our separate ways as soon as we got off the minibus, since this was not the kind of company we were looking for.

Arriving in Santo Domingo, we asked Marisa to go and ask to see if there were rooms available at Finca Santo Domingo, where I stayed before, but she came back with the dreaded ´fully booked´answer. At this point, I flipped back into ´Amazing Race´ mode, and started slowly backing away from the group, then walking faster and faster towards the only other hostel in Santo Domingo, Buena Vista. Others had the same idea when they saw me slipping away, but I managed to get the last two available rooms for the four of us, after which we all breathed a sigh of relief. We left our bags in the rooms and spent the afternoon relaxing on the huge patio and sitting in the hammocks; before it got dark we went for a swim in the warm waters of the lake, where we had a great view of Volcan Maderas and we watched the cranes and zopilotes circle above us. Just as the sun set, seemingly from out of nowhere, thousands of bugs appeared and even the fish got excited, jumping out of the water to catch their dinner. Speaking of which, we went to shower and change, then we headed for some food at Finca Santo Domingo, where we took up half of the patio with our group of 9 from the hostal, Stefan, Simone and Sara (the three S´s from Switzerland), Martin, Ray and the three of us. We were all really tired from a full day of travel and went to sleep not long after.

Volcan Masaya

I got a chance to use the internet for a bit while enjoying the free coffee offered by the Hostal Dorado, but soon after we had to get going down to the travel agency for our trip to Volcan Masaya and the surrounding villages. In typical central american fashion, the bus was running late, so we spent some time talking to the other people in our group, getting to know them a bit better, while Josh and Marisa were sipping on breakfast smoothies. We eventually left Granada for the one hour trip to the National Park, and along the way we stopped for our guide to point out a fortress high up on a hill, telling us about it´s tumultuous history and various uses over the centuries. We then arrived at the gate to the park, our guide paid the entrance fee for us, and we proceeded through the laval field of 1772 and towards the upper parking lot right next to the active crater. There was lots of smoke and fumes rising from it, though the laval itself could only be seen on the night volcano tour; nonetheless, the volcano still acts up every now and then, such as a few years back when hot lava rocks started spewing out of the crater to the horror of the tourists close by. While nobody died, a few people were injured and a number of cars destroyed - for that reason, it is mandatory to park the car facing the exit of the lot, in case a quick departure is required, and along with your entry ticket you receive a pamphlet instructing you to seek shelter under a vehicle should such an even occur again, along with the obligatory disclaimers regarding getting so close to an active crater.

After looking into the crater and taking the obligatory pictures, we walked up a whole bunch of steps before arriving at the top of a hill overlooking the entire volcano complex, where you can see a replica of a cross that was set up there by the Spaniards in the hopes of keeping evil spirits at bay. The volcano was so threatening and active that they thought it was literally the gates of hell, so that was their way of assuring themselves that they would be safe. While the view was fantastic from there, there were so many bugs around that we couldn´t even speak without getting a nice sized serving of protein. While talking to our guide, we mentioned that we would be heading to Isla Ometepe, and he also confirmed that the San Ramon waterfall has been wiped out by Tropical Storm Alma and the landslides that followed. Once we descended from the cross, we went to see one of the extinct craters, took more pictures and observed the zopilotes (vultures) circling the area above us. We moved out and back towards the parking lot as some pretty nasty and dark clouds moved in, and drove half way out of the park, stopping at the Tourist Centre and Museum for Volcan Masaya. This time the guide actually accompanied us inside, answered any questions we had, and even told us a few interesting stories. Apparently the first plans for a canal between the Atlantic and the Pacific were drawn up in Nicaragua, which wanted to build two canals, one from San Juan del Sur to Lago de Nicaragua, and then another one from the east shores of the lake to the Caribbean sea. Sounded like a great plan, but political forces interfered and the project was moved down to Panama. Our guide also told us a funny story about a tree the locals call ´the gringo tree´, because in the summer its bark turns red, then peels off, just like the skin of the gringos in the sun.

Back on the bus, we drove to the nearby city of Masaya, where before the market we made another stop at a lookout point over Laguna Masaya, giving us a chance to see the volcano from further away. We then headed to the market, where we had about an hour and a half to browse around, and bargain our hearts out; we were getting pretty hungry though, so we stopped at a stall in the market and decided to try Bajos, a typical Masayan lunch, consisting of pork, yuca, cabbage, plantain and casava all wrapped in a banana leaf. After our delicious lunch, we wondered about the market, Marisa bought a necklace and a bracelet, but aside from that we couldn´t really buy that much since we still had a lot of traveling ahead of us. We finished off the visit there with a cold drink, before boarding the bus and heading to Catarina, one of the many pueblos blancos (white villages) surrounding Masaya. This was the so-called ´flower village´and we passed by countless stores and stalls selling any type of plant that would grow in this environment; our destination however, was the mirador (lookout point) over Laguna de Apoyo, a lake in a dormant crater which is the lowest point in all of Central America. There were lots of people around, many more so than last time I visited it, but then I remembered it was sunday, so many locals came out as well. There was a band playing traditional music, people dancing around, and we saw a whole bunch of paragliders flying over our heads. In the background we could see both the city of Granada and the nearby Volcan Mombacho, which I have still to climb.

Our last stop on the tour was San Juan del Oriente, another pueblo blanco, this one specializing in ceramics; we went to a different shop than my first visit, and this one proved to be much more educational. As opposed to rushing us to the shop so we can buy souvenirs, the owner of the shop took us through the whole process from the lump of clay to creating a vase (without the finishing process since we would have been there for days). At the end some of us bought a few pieces to bring home to friends and family, but again, as a backpacker there is the issue of carrying things around for months, let alone worrying about something breaking. As the tour wound down, we started heading back to Granada, but not before another exciting moment: as we passed through one of the other villages, we came across a mob of people on either side of the road. Our guide told us that it was a festival taking place between two villages locked in mock-fighting with bamboo whips - he told us they are not supposed to hit anyone above the neck, but as we passed through the crowd I did see a few people bleeding from their heads.

After returning to Granada, we took a walk towards the lake, stopping at the beach front for a cold beer and for some people watching; again being a weekend, the atmosphere was great, good music and we were surrounded by laughing, happy people. Aside from people watching, we were also watching the dark clouds moving across the lake towards us, until the rain started and everyone scattered about. We took a cab back to Hostel Dorado and got ready to go out for dinner at a Tequila Vallarta, a mexican restaurant on Calle La Calzada. We got another lesson as to how innacurate the Lonely Planet maps are, as we did a few circles around the neighbourhood before one of the locals pointed us in the right direction. After dinner, we returned to the hostel, getting ready to move on to Isla Ometepe the following day.

Granada

We were all excited to be heading to Nicaragua, so after a quick breakfast we packed and headed to the bus station in Alajuela to get to the Tica terminal in San Jose. Who knew that we would have such an exciting bus ride into the Costa Rican capital? Soon after we were on our way, we almost got into an accident, and the driver broke so fast that the wheels locked and burning rubber smoke filled the cabin. We were all thrown into the seats in front of us, and bags and shoes went flying towards the front; nothing serious happened, but there were a few tense seconds there. Once we got into San Jose, we had a bit of a walk to the bus terminal since we got off too early, but luckily we gave ourselves plenty of extra time to get there. Though we were there early, we ended up leaving about half an hour later, which was a bit worrysome since we could not make reservations to Hostal Oasis, and we would be arriving in Granada late in the evening. As we drove through the mountains we encountered more traffic than usual, since it was the beginning of a long weekend and the start of the 'winter' vacation for kids. We made our way through Liberia, passing through a few rain showers and watching really bad movies, which prompted me to read more and watch TV less. The border was also busier than normal, and it took us about two hours just to clear customs at both the Costa Rican and Nicaraguan sides.

As a result, we arrived in Granada more than 2 hours late, around 10pm in the evening, where we all kicked into 'Amazing Race' mode, since everyone getting off the bus had the same dillema as us: finding a place to sleep. We divided up responsibilities, Marisa in charge of getting a cab while Josh and I retrieved our bags, and we managed to be the first ones to leave the bus station. We arrived at Hostal Oasis just to be told that everything was full, but at least we asked at reception to call around to find a room for us. She did manage to find something at Hostal Mochila's, and we left Oasis just as the other people from the bus were getting there. Two Americans followed us hoping they would find a room as well, but they were dissapointed once we got to our hostel; selfishly, it benefited us as at least we walked in a bigger group through the empty streets of Granada with all our stuff on us, so it made us feel safer. At the hostel, which was ironically right across the street from the house of the Vilchez family where I stayed while taking my spanish course, we squeezed the three of us into a two person room, so I got to sleep on the floor for one night, which wasn't the end of the world, especially since I was dealing with a bit of back pain from the trip to the Volcano the day before. As everyone else went to sleep, I sat for a while with the guy working at the hotel, and I told him that we were heading towards Isla Ometepe in a few days, with one of our goals being to see the San Ramon waterfall. He told me that since they were hit by the tropical storm Alma in May, there was a series of landslides and the waterfall is not what it used to be and cannot be visited - lesson learned not to always leave things for the next time.

The next morning we decided to change hostels, since most of the people at Mochila's woke up at 6am and started slamming doors and yelling as if they were the only ones there. Josh and I ventured out into the city, and after a few tries, we found Hostal Dorado, housed in a colonial house with a beautiful interior courtyard, hammocks and free coffee and internet, all for about $6 a person per night. We grabbed our bags, moved in to the new place and started to work out a strategy about the rest of our trip. We decided to spend the day taking care of administration things: taking money, buying bus tickets to Honduras, making reservations etc. After breakfast at Amsterdam Cafe, right in the central park, we went to the travel agency to book our day trip to the Masaya volcano the next day, and we stoped on La Calzada to have a drink on the main street in Granada, watching the world pass by. We walked to the TransNica terminal to buy our tickets from Managua to Tegucigalpa, Honduras and we quickly discovered that Lonely Planet's maps are not always reliable, as the agency was a few blocks away from where it was indicated in the guidebook. We did find it eventually, after asking around, and booked our tickets, and as soon as we were finished, heavy rain set in, so we sat around waiting for it to stop. Eventually we decided to just hop into a cab to take us back at the hostel.

Once the rain stopped, we walked over to have dinner at the rib place that I discovered with Eric and Kellie back in February, but they did not open until 6pm, so we went back to La Merced and climbed the stairs into the tower to get a view of Granada from above. We took lots of pictures, watched the kids drumming and shaking around the giant puppets that are traditional to Nicaragua, and then, right at 6 pm, this guy comes up and barely gives us a few seconds notice before he starts pulling the ropes to ring the church bells. At least I had enough time to plug my ears, but Marisa was caught off guard while she was taking a picture of some other tourists, and she was so startled that she almost dropped their camera. With out ears still ringing, we went for dinner at Jimmy Three Fingers', had great food in a really nice atmosphere (though more Gringo-like than I am used to), then we returned to Hostal Dorado for the evening, using the internet and watching movies before going to sleep.

San Jose & Volcan Poas

I spent the next few days taking a break from traveling, catching up on writing and generally relaxing, waiting for Josh and Marisa to join me on the trek through Costa Rica, Nicaragua and Honduras. Unfortunately, things did not start on the right foot, as their flight connection in Miami was almost 6 hours late, due to weather, so instead of picking them up from the airport and going for dinner, I grabbed a cab at around 1:30am, since it is not a good idea to take buses that late or walk around on the streets. The important thing is that they arrived safe and sound, though obviously really tired, yet in all the excitement of seeing eachother, we ended up staying up until about 4am, catching up and making plans for our route. Since we had to buy tickets to head to Granada in person in San Jose, we took a day trip so that they can see the Costa Rican capital (which we just about covered in less than 3 hours). Another set back was the fact that the next day's bus was already full, so time for adjustments yet again, deciding to visit the Poas Volcano since we had an extra day in the country.

For the rest of the afternoon we walked around the main pedestrian street, taking pictures of the cow statues (similar to the Moose project in Toronto), stopping at the National Theatre as well. In typical Costa Rican fashion for this time of the year, it started raining heavily in the early afternoon, so both Marisa and I made wise investments into one umbrella for each, which has come in very handy ever since! To get some last minute supplies for the trip, we went to the Mercado Central, walked through it for a bit, then sat down at one of the typical comedores and had a really huge lunch. Having realised there is not much else to do in San Jose, we got back on the bus and returned to Alajuela for the night.

We woke up much earlier and more rested the next day, and after breakfast we packed our daypacks and went to the TUASA terminal, where we joined the line of Gringos waiting for the once-a-day bus to Volcan Poas. Last time I was there I was traveling with a couple who had a car, so this bus trip was new for me as well. We really lucked out as we ended up getting the last available seats on the bus, thus sparing us having to stand for the hour and a half trip. At one point the bus made a rest stop at a soda along the way, and we shared a good laugh when some of the tourists thought the food was free! Guess they never heard the expression there is no such thing as a free lunch. Eventually we arrived at the park, paid the entrance fee and headed straight for the crater, since I knew that later on in the day the clouds obscure the crater and then the rain sets in.

We were really lucky and had about a 20 minute window when everything was clear and got a chance to take lots of photos; it was a good thing we brought warmer clothes as it is fairly cold and windy at that altitude (over 2500 m). After admiring the active crater and the poisonous cloud it expelled, we headed down the path towards the dormant crater, which now has a lake filling it. We got to see the laguna, which was better than the view I had the first time around, and about 15 minutes after we got there, a huge dark cloud moved in and it didn't just start to rain, it started to pour. We took shelter under the cover of a small cabin, hoping it would go away quickly, but it soon became evident we weren't going to be that lucky. With umbrellas in hand, we slowly made our way back to the visitors' centre, where we walked around the shop and the small museum that explains the history of the volcano. The storm was so strong that even the power went out for a while, and our bus driver was nice enough to pull the bus right up to the entrance, sparing us another walk in the rain to the parking lot. We (again) got the last seats on the bus, and I don't know how, but I managed to squeeze in a small nap before we returned to Alajuela, where we had dinner at Coffee Dreams Cafe before returning to the hotel to pack our stuff to head to Nicaragua the next day.