The bus to Rivas, where I was to catch the connection to Granada, was supposed to leave at 11A. And I was told it was the only bus that day because it was Good Friday so I was on the bus by 10:45. It finally left at around 12:00 when it was packed full. In Rivas, the only buses running that day were headed for Managua, so I was told to get off at the junction for Granada and take a taxi from there – it should be a 5 min. ride. So I got on the bus for Managua and the money collector charged me the same amount everyone else was paying to go all the way to Managua – another hour plus past the junction. But it was still only $3, better than the $50 I’d have to pay for a taxi.
The bus dropped me at the junction where the tuk tuk drivers tried to charge me $10 for what is normally a $2 ride. I eventually got one of them down to $3. But along the way we were stopped by a police officer who was conducting passport checks. I had put the majority of my money (7000 Cordobas or $333) inside my passport in my pocket and when I went to pull my passport out the whole wad of it fell on the ground next to the tuk tuk. The driver and I watched as the police officer picked it all up and passed it back to me. I was glad to get it all back, but a little embarrassed that I had spent so much effort getting the tuk tuk driver’s price down when I obviously had more than enough to pay more. But that amount was to last me most of the rest of my trip and I think he understood that.
My shuttle to the airport to fly to the Corn Islands was at 4A the next morning, so I spent a quiet and early night in Granada. This was an easy thing to do given the town was eerily silent. It would appear that all of the people flooding the streets in San Juan del Sur had come from Granada. The only place where there were any people was in our hostel.
My room that night was hot and noisy, so I didn’t get much sleep and woke up on my own two minutes after my alarm was supposed to go off. Not really sure what happened there . . . Anyway, after a shuttle, a plane, a taxi, and a water taxi, I finally arrived on Little Corn Island. I was greeted by Jeff, an Instructor from the dive shop I’d met through the dive shop on Roatan and had been in touch with since. He had organized a room for me since it was still Semana Santa and I wanted to insure I had a place to stay. He introduced me to the hotel manager, Dustin from Texas, who took me to the hotel and showed me my room. It had two double beds, TV, A/C, and a private bath (though no hot water) for $20/night. He explained that the whole island (pop. 500) runs on a generator that’s shut down from 5A – 2P, so there was no electricity when I first arrived. There was a small puddle on my floor, but I assumed that was left from the cleaning and ignored it at the time. I went to find some lunch and when I returned my entire floor was flooded. I went looking for Dustin, but couldn’t find him anywhere. His uncle lives and works there too, but I didn’t know that at the time.
My plan had been to nap and take advantage of the A/C when the power came on in ½ hr. So I lay down for a bit, then went looking for Dustin again, and continued this cycle until about two hours later when another guest told me I could speak to his uncle. So they fixed the leak and mopped the floor, during which time I discovered my TV didn’t work (now that the power was on). It turned out to be the outlet so they ran an extension cord from another outlet and got it to work. So I watched a bit of TV for the first time in a long time and took a nap. When I woke up I was really warm. It appeared my A/C was not working. I adjusted some knobs and went for a sunset drink before returning to what now felt like a sauna. I found Dustin who adjusted it, but ½ hr. later it was still a sauna, so he switched out the A/C unit and told me he wasn’t going to charge me for that night. He was super nice about it all. I understand things can go wrong with hotel rooms, especially on tiny islands with as few resources as this one. I don’t judge my experience on those problems, but on the way they are handled by the management. And Dustin gets an A+ in my book.
The next morning I went for my first dive off Little Corn Island . . . and saw three hammerheads. The visibility was piss poor, but I was able to make them out and get a couple of bad pictures. I went on another dive later that morning and saw spotted eagle rays and the visibility was much better. That afternoon, I returned to my room to find a small puddle on the floor again. I told Dustin and he had me switch rooms since he had had another one open up that morning. I napped in the hottest part of the day, then went for a long walk around the island before grabbing dinner and calling it an early night.
The next day I went with the dive shop to Blowing Rock, the best dive site in the area and, according to many, in the Caribbean. As is the case with every other best dive site in the world it seems, Blowing Rock was a long boat ride away. And it was a bit of a stormy day, so the ride was a bit rough. It was to be a two-tank dive (so two dives in a row). The first dive was awesome, and I would put it in the top two best dive sites in the Caribbean. We saw sting rays, nurse sharks, and lots of fish and healthy coral. But I was in a group of 8 people led by one Dive Master so it was a bit crowded. And as with any group, your dive time is limited to the time it takes for the first person to run low on air, which tends to be the beginners as they suck down air while they fight to remain neutrally buoyant. So our DM called the dive at just past 30 min. I had 2000 psi left (2/3 tank) and could’ve easily stayed down for another 25 min. Blowing Rock is also a very expensive dive at $95. So I was a little annoyed and had half the mind to ignore the DM and continue on the dive (but I didn’t of course).
When we got back on the boat it was pouring rain and the waves were rough. We got everyone settled and were moving to a calmer spot when the boat came down on a wave hard and one of the women injured her back. She was in quite a lot of pain and it was an ordeal getting her in as comfortable a position as possible where it was least bumpy. We diverted to Big Corn Island and went very slowly. When we arrived close to an hour later, there was a scramble to find a stretcher, which wasn’t available. So the DM’s and islanders used a hammock to pull her out of the boat and put her in the back of a truck to take her to the hospital. She was screaming in pain with each quick movement. Afterward, we returned to Little Corn Island and were greeted on the beach by all the dive shop staff who told us to head straight inside and grab some coffee or tea and they’d unload everything from the boat. As we sipped our tea and warmed up, they informed us all that there would be no charge for the dive that day. That made us all very happy since it was still an excellent dive, traumatizing or not. The latest update I got on the woman was that she was being med-evac’d to the mainland for x-rays and that she likely had a slipped disk, but was able to move everything.
We were supposed to go on a night dive that night, but it was cancelled due to the incident because they needed the dive boat to shuttle people and belongings back and forth to Big Corn Island. It was still stormy out, so I headed out for a late lunch and a few drinks, which continued until 10P when I went to bed to insure I got enough rest for diving the next day.
On Tues morning, I went on two dives, both good, but because the storm was still around, both a bit cold. After lunch, I was heading back to my room to get a short nap in before the night dive when I slipped on the walkway to our hotel (which apparently is very slippery when wet) and took a huge chunk of skin off the top side of my little finger. It looked pretty nasty, but didn’t hurt too badly. I was more worried about how I’d make the night dive with the salt water stinging it the whole time. When it got closer to dive time, I searched through my first aid kit and found some latex gloves. So I cut one of the fingers off it and fashioned a waterproof bandage out of it with some tape. It leaked a bit on the dive, but I never felt it. The dive was awesome. It was just me, Jeff and one of his students, new to night diving. We saw a ton of lobsters, sleeping fish, and a turtle. When we turned our flashlights off, it was surreal. The reef and water surrounding it turned into millions of tiny points of bioluminescent lights. It was like being in the sky on a moonless night. I could’ve stayed down there in the dark until the sun came up, just taking it all in. But of course air would’ve been a bit of an issue, so we returned to the boat and the island.
It was my last night out in Central America that night and I wanted it to be special. I was supposed to meet two friends from Utila for dinner as they had arrived on the island that day, but they stood me up so I ate alone and then headed to the only bar still open on the island. There were only a few people there, but I made a night out of it and then returned to my hotel where there were still people awake, so I stayed up until all was quiet and then made my way to bed.
The next day I had a late breakfast where I ran into the friends I was supposed to meet for dinner the night before. They apologized and joined me and then we all headed to the beach where I refreshed my tan before heading back to the hotel to pack so I could catch my water taxi, taxi, plane, and shuttle back to Granada.
I made it to Granada without a hitch and got a nice expensive hotel room to spend my last two nights in. I spent that night and the next day shopping for gifts and reflecting on the last three months of my life. I arrived back in Texas on April 9th and was welcomed home by my much-missed friends that night.
Travelling is always and adventure and never a disappointment, which I guess is why it’s so addicting. It can be terrifying, lonely, bewildering, amazing, eye-opening, educational, and painful at times (especially on those 2+ bus rides). But one thing it never is is boring. And, unfortunately I can’t say that about life at “home.” And travelling in developing countries always puts things back into perspective, whether I’ve lost my way or not. I always return with an overwhelming sense of inner peace, which is why I’ll never give it up.
I hope you are all happy and well.
Here’s the photo link: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2939805&id=8369089&l=46734e65be
Until next time,
Sierra
