Buenas Dias,
I write from 9,500 ft above Nicaragua where I am in what must be the world’s smallest commercial plane with a maximum of 12 passengers. The plane is nearly full today with 10 passengers. When I last left you I was in beautiful Roatan. I spent what I thought was my last day there in gorgeous, resorty West Bay where white sand beaches are abundant. It was a lovely day of walking, snorkeling, and relaxing. I attempted to catch the ferry back the next morning at 5:45A, but a storm had come in overnight. Before getting into a taxi I had to bargain the price down from $20 one way to $10 one way. Then I asked one of the drivers if the ferry was running and he said it was, so I hopped in. But after a 25 min. drive we discovered that the ferry wasn’t running and probably wouldn’t be until the next day. So we went all the way back. I was a bit annoyed with the other taxi driver for telling me the ferry was running when it wasn’t. Surely all the taxi drivers on the island communicate with each other. It’s not a very big island and there are hundreds of taxis. Anyway, I normally would’ve argued upon return, but it wasn’t my taxi driver who told me the ferry was running. The guy who told me that had subsequently put me in his friend’s taxi as his was already full. So I wasted $20 that day. I heard similar stories from others who had also tried for the ferry that morning and who had taken taxis to other destinations. Roatan is awesome, but it seems the taxi drivers are experts at ripping you off, which is a shame because I honestly think that if it gets any worse people might be dissuaded from going and opt for other islands. So the taxi drivers are ruining it for everyone else in the tourism industry on the island.
When I got back to West End where I’d been staying, I decided to wait and see if the afternoon ferry would go before I got a hotel for the night. I was to meet a friend in La Ceiba, where the ferry disembarks on the mainland. He was still in Utila, also stuck due to weather, and we were trying to coordinate our arrival times so we could head to Nicaragua together. So I sat at my dive shop all morning catching up on e-mails and photos. Later, when I learned there would be no afternoon ferry, I got a room at a different hotel. My room at the other hotel is difficult to describe. You’ll have to look at the pics to see what I mean. I think it was a kind of rooftop terrace transformed into a room. Someone had put up thick plastic sheets all around it. The bathroom was probably the best part though. It was separated from the main entrance by an old large refrigerator. My sink was a PVC pipe that emptied onto a concave plastic sheet that was tilted so that it emptied into the back of the toilet. Although lovely in its bizarreness, the room had a tin roof with a very close palm tree and, with the winds the night before, I felt a bit like I was in a war zone with all the raucous. My new hotel room was much quieter. So I napped for a bit and then went back to the dive shop to spend one last night with my new friends.
Thankfully, the ferry was running the next morning and I was in La Ceiba by 8:30A. Luke’s ferry was also running, so we met and grabbed a taxi to the bus station. Before getting in, we agreed on a price of 30 Lempiras ($1.50) per person with the man at the taxi queue. Apparently though, our taxi driver wasn’t made privy to this information and demanded nearly twice that. There followed a bit of chaos and a threat by the taxi driver’s friend to call the police. We ended up paying about 43 Lempiras each in the end. Then we hopped the bus for San Pedro Sula where we caught another bus to Tegucigalpa, the capital of Honduras. We had really hoped not to get stuck there for the night, but we had no choice. When we arrived we got confused by the numbers on the map in our travel guide and thought we were several blocks away from our hotel. It was dark and we didn’t feel safe walking, so we got a taxi. He told us it was very far and charged us 50 Lempiras ($2.50) to take us there. But that hotel was full, so we had to find another. As we turned the corner not more than 20 m (60 ft) down the road, we came across the same bus station we had just paid 50 L to leave! Very annoying.
In the end, we found a hotel room, but there was nowhere to get on the internet and find out when the bus for Nicaragua left. We asked around and were told 4:00A, 5:00A, and 6:30A by various people. I had read somewhere that the buses might leave at 5A, so we decided to go to the bus station at 4:30 the next morning. By that point we both really needed showers and sleep. Luke showered first and gave me the bad news that the hot water tap was just for show, the water came out as a trickle and the toilet didn’t flush. I really needed a shower after a long hot day on public transportation, so I went for one anyway . . . and ran out of water halfway through. Luckily, I had already rinsed the shampoo out of my hair, but I had just soaped up my face and now it was getting in my eyes. I tried the tap on the sink with my fingers crossed. It had just enough water in the pipe for me to rinse most of the soap off my face. So I didn’t get to finish the shower, but I felt cleaner anyway.
The next morning we were at the bus station by 4:45A. It didn’t open until 5A and our bus wasn’t until 9:30A. We’d already woken up the guy at the hotel to let us out, but I didn’t feel the least bit guilty about waking him again to let us back in. After all, he was the one who told us the bus was at 5A and charged way too much for a room with no running water. So we slept some more and then caught the bus to Leόn, a cute colonial town in Nicaragua. We had heard about a hostel with a pool called Bigfoot and Nicaraguan heat is sweltering, so we tried for a room there, but they were full. So we ended up in a hostel across the street. Our room was dark and hot, but it was actually really nice. Later, we went for drinks at Bigfoot and checked out the “pool.” It was more like a puddle. You couldn’t fit more than one big foot in it. We were glad for our nice, spacious room across the street.
The next morning we booked a tour for the next day. We looked at a couple of tour agencies. One of them had a full day tour for $50 that included a hike up Cerro Negro (an active volcano), volcano boarding, and swimming at Laguna Asososco. The other places wanted $30 to do just one of these activities. So we went back to them and asked to make sure everything was included. This whole time we were attempting to speak in Spanish and they were giggling at our attempts. But we were able to confirm that the $50 included lunch, a guide, the board, and all entrance fees, but not breakfast. So we decided to book it and they all got really excited (there were 3 girls and a guy, all very young – maybe late teens). As we were paying, they switched to English (we had assumed they didn’t speak English and were struggling to speak Spanish the whole time). Then they asked if we wanted to board down the volcano because it was optional. We said yes and they said it was an extra “dollar or so.” We reminded them that they had just told us it was all included, so they said, “oh yeah. Ok. Don’t worry about it then.” When they asked where we were staying we told them it was right next door. They got all excited again because they could pick us up at our hotel. Otherwise they’d pick us up at the tour agency. What’s the difference you ask? There wasn’t one. Silly.
After booking the tour, we headed for the beaches of Las Peñitas, a 45 min. chicken bus ride from Leόn. We spent the day swimming and relaxing there and then returned to Leόn, where we bought breakfast for the next morning and had an early night. We walked out our door at 6A in the morning and there was our van, parked in front of the tour agency. We got in and were immediately told that we needed to pay an extra $5 entrance fee. Luke was about to pay it, but I told them that we were told it was all included (again). So the guide (and we think the owner of the company), who was a British expat with an Australian accent, told us not to worry about it if that’s what we were told. On the way there she told us the plan for the morning. First we would have a light breakfast (?) and then hike the volcano before heading to the lake for a swim. On our way up the volcano, our guide mentioned that we’d be running down the volcano, so I asked when we were doing the boarding. She had no idea what I was talking about, but when I explained that we were also told that was included, she apologized and called the people at the agency and had them bring the boards out. And as an added bonus since we were already a third through the hike, we didn’t have to carry the boards up. But when we got to the top I had second thoughts about the boarding. The way down was steep and covered in (very) sharp volcanic rocks. Even though volcano boarding is a popular activity here, it was hard to imagine so many people had done it without getting mortally wounded. So I let someone else go first and when she survived it I decided it might be okay. It was great! My heart was pumping the whole time, but it was a new thrill I’d never experienced. I’d recommend it if you’re good at following directions. Otherwise you’re bound to lose some skin at the very least.
After volcano boarding we went to the beautiful Laguna Asososco and had a refreshing swim followed by a picnic lunch. We thought we were done for the day after that, but apparently the folks at the travel agency forgot to tell us that our package also included a tour of Leόn Viejo (Old Leόn) and a trip to La Paz to get quesillos. It’s a popular Nica dish that’s a sort of cheese and cream wrap. The place where we got it was the shop from which it originated. Leόn Viejo was interesting, not unlike some of the Mayan ruins I’d seen. But I was so exhausted by that point and the heat was so oppressive that I missed a lot of what our guide said.
We got back to Leόn in the evening and had dinner and drinks at our hotel and then went to Bigfoot for a few more drinks. And the next morning we left for Granada. Just as we were leaving our hotel we ran into a couple who told us to be careful heading to Granada. They had just come from there and had met a very nice local lady on the bus to Managua (where you have to transfer to get to Leόn). She explained to them that there was an easier and cheaper way to get to Leόn and they had followed her off the bus early and into a taxi where they were joined by a couple of other Nicaraguans (this is not unusual as most taxis in Nicaragua function as “collectivos,” and pick up and drop off people all along the route). When the taxi was far enough from the bus stop, the people in the taxi robbed the couple. We didn’t have time to hear more of the story, but we were certainly more careful after that. We had a fairly uneventful ride to Managua and then another to Granada, though the second bus was packed so tightly people were hanging out the windows for air. We had heard of another hostel with a swimming pool in Granada called Oasis and we found it almost immediately when we arrived. We got a room and headed for the pool soon after. This pool, although not more than 3m x 2m (15ft x 10ft) was cool and refreshing.
Afterward we wandered around Granada for a bit until we were exhausted from the heat. At the hostel you could sign up for a day trip to Laguna Apoyo, a beautiful large natural lake 20 min. from Granada for $17 for the day including lunch. So we signed up for the next day and had a few drinks in the pool before heading to bed. The lake the next day was awesome. We kayaked and I went for a much-needed long swim and then we relaxed on the beach and floating dock.
My time in Central America was running short and I really wanted to spend a few days in the Corn Islands, a fabulous paradise on the Caribbean side of Nicaragua, famed for its fantastic diving. Unfortunately, they’re a 1-2 full day journey by land and sea from Granada, so I decided to fly for $165 roundtrip. So the day after the lake, I had planned to book a trip for Easter weekend and then spend another night or two in Granada before flying to the Corn Islands, then return to the mainland to hit up San Juan del Sur, a surf Mecca on the Pacific coast. However, the only flights available were several days later, so I booked my flight and we left within a few hours for San Juan del Sur. So my plan was reversed and I’d go to San Juan del Sur and then head to Corn Islands before returning to the mainland two days before my flight home.
We found a nice hotel in San Juan del Sur and got the last room with a sea view for $7 per person per night. However, the woman who worked there told us the price would be going up the next day for the duration of Semana Santa (week of Christ), which is celebrated hugely throughout Central America. So we asked how much more. The woman then tried to explain the price increase by way of analogy in Spanish. She said that it would be like a big backpack, packed more so that it was slightly taller. When we were understandably confused, she blamed our Spanish, saying “No entienden Espanol?” (“Don’t you understand Spanish?”) We thought it was kind of funny that she thought our confusion spawned from a lack of understanding of Spanish. In the end, she left it at “un poco mas” (“a little more”). So we said in Spanish, “so like 2 dollars more or seven?” to which she replied “mas o minus” (“more or less”). Anyway, we took the room for the night and decided we might look around the next day for a cheaper place with a saner owner.
The next day, I really wanted to surf and Luke decided he’d like to watch a football (soccer) game and wait for his two friends from home, set to arrive that day. There isn’t any surf in San Juan del Sur proper, so I rented a board and caught a shuttle to Playa Madera, a nearby beach. I spent the day surfing, sunning, and reading before heading back to San Juan del Sur where Luke informed me that his friends wouldn’t be arriving until the next afternoon. So the next morning we had an amazing 2 ½ hour horseback ride in the mountains where we saw howler monkeys, the national bird, and a possum (we think).
Later that afternoon Luke’s friends arrived and there was a reunion of sorts. Steve (or Macca) and Ruth turned out to be lovely and we all enjoyed each others’ company. We watched the sunset on the beach with a few drinks and dinner before heading back to our hotel. We were bringing drinks up to our room when we were stopped by “crazy lady,” as we came to call her, who told us we had to drink downstairs (and not on our balcony with a view of the craziness on the streets that is Semana Santa). We acquiesced until we saw other people coming back and carrying bags upon bags of liquor to their rooms and then we proceeded upstairs where we watched the seas of people pass below our balcony. Semana Santa is hard to describe. Basically, for you Americans, imagine a 4th of July without fireworks and with more alcohol, coupled with priests prancing down the streets preaching with their clutch of followers in tow. Now imagine that going on for FIVE days, 24 hours a day, and you have Semana Santa, the most bizarre celebration I think I’ve ever encountered.
The next day, in order to escape the madness that was growing as Easter Sunday fast approached (it was now Thursday), we headed to another nearby beach, Playa Romancia, with some surf boards and spent the day there surfing, swimming and enjoying the nearly empty beach.
That night was my last night, but we were all so exhausted from the night before that all we could do after dinner was have one drink and we were all in bed by 9:30. I left for Corn Islands (where I am now) the next day, but I’ll save my last week for the next post, which I’m sure you’re all thankful for if you’ve gotten this far.
Much love to you all. Here are the links for the photos:
Honduras:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2927416&id=8369089&l=2c94511353 AND
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2935860&id=8369089&l=495f7bab2a
Nicaragua:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2939805&id=8369089&l=46734e65be
