1/5/2016
I haven’t written in a little bit. Partially because we
haven’t had wi-fi for a few days, so there would be no way to post. Partially,
because I didn’t want to. We’ve been doing a lot of nothing for a few days, and
nothing is sacred and shouldn’t be interrupted. Even with something I love as
much as writing.
After a series of transportation options (bus, taxi, ferry –
the whole gamut), we arrived at Isla Ometepe a
few days ago. Isla Ometepe is an island made out of two (active?)
volcanoes in the middle of the Nicaragua Lake.
The island is bigger than I had expected, but still small enough that
you could drive the circumference in a few hours. . . as long as you had 4WD.
We arrived in the evening at our hostel, which is at the base of the smaller
volcano, on the side with no paved roads. It as a slow (but beautiful) drive to
get there. The hostel was a little oasis, with its own “beach” (waterfront – no
sand) and a sea full of hammocks. There were very few people checked in there.
Most of them older or quieter than the people at the hostels we had passed on
the other side of the island on our way there. The mood fit the setting, which
is always nice.
It felt like our own little paradise, which was amplified by
the fact that – even though we had though we booked bunk beds in dorms – the
woman there gave us a beautiful private room. I even tried to set her straight
about what we had thought we booked, but she showed me her booking chart which
agreed with the room she gave us, and that was the end of that.
It was in this room, in our little corner of island
paradise, that we spent that evening and the following day. Our activities
consisted mostly of hammock laying/reading, beer drinking (Tona & Victoria
Frost FTW), and kayaking. Lots of kayaking. We rented a kayak for the day. Ken
was nervous, because he had heard them called “divorce boats”, but I like to
think that we did quite nicely. Our first outing was to Monkey Island, which is
appropriately named. We saw a few Capuchin monkeys, which was super cool. We
kept our distance, though. Back at our hostel, there were lots of signs about
the viciousness of the monkeys, and we got a firsthand experience of it when a
different kayaker got too close and a monkey jumped down and growled (hissed?)
at her. So, we felt like we made the right choice there. We avoided the big
(embarrassing) disaster of being attacked by a monkey.
For lunch that day we wandered down the dirt road until we
came to a little shack that looked like it might serve food. We asked, and they
did, and we ordered “dos almuerzos, por favor” (two lunches, please).
There aren’t a lot of lunches when your
restaurant is a shack. Lunch consisted of a very fishy-looking-fish, plantains,
and literally the best rice and beans we’ve
ever had in our lives. Holy crap. How does anyone make something so
simple taste so good? We thought about
asking her to show us, but then remembered ignorance is bliss and let it go.
The afternoon consisted of more hammock laying/reading, more
beer, and lots more kayaking. Kenny timed it perfectly so we turned back at
exactly the right moment to arrive safely back at the hostel about 5 minutes
before the sunset. My husband is something special.
We left very early the next morning on two of the most
bizarre bus trips I’ve ever been on. On the first bus, the hoisted us on
through the back before even answering our questions about where the bus was going or how much it cost. The second
bus literally had a stampede to get to it. People throwing their bags onto the
bus and then climbing on afterwards. No order or lines – every man for
themselves. Kenny and I did pretty well. We managed to secure one seat on the
bus, that we shared by me sitting on Ken’s lap. I’d say that was pretty good,
considering there were so many people standing that they couldn’t even close
the doors. That bus took us to a ferry that brought us back to the mainland.
Kenny’s Thoughts: The
Island was really gorgeous. It was wild seeing two volcanoes appear so close to
each other and create such a unique environment. I think the highlights for me
were seeing the capuchin monkeys on Monkey Island while kayaking around it,
seeing them in their natural element - fishing and warding us off - was really
exciting and gave a much better feel for the animals than any zoo could have. I
also loved just how relaxing our time at the hostel was, and how utterly
gorgeous our view was from just outside our door. Reading in the hammocks and
drinking a few cold beers was extremely refreshing. The bus rides out in the
morning were also something to behold. The busses utterly filled with bugs on
the inside, and seeing a mob of people run at the multiple entrances trying to
get on, was unlike any public transit experience I’ve ever had. It was also fun
eating a meal from a local restaurant, where you say, “what’s on the menu” and
they say “fish” and you say “okay”. The fish and the plantains were tasty, but
that was probably the best beans and rice I’ve ever eaten. I don’t know how the
heck they did that, but that was unbelievable. Also, that fish was probably the
sketchiest think I’ve ever eaten. Fortunately, nothing bad happened. I really liked kayaking – I
think that’s my last point. I think that’s it. I forgot to talk about the
geckos! Something I thought was really neat was how the hostel had embraced
what they named, “Asian House Geckos”. They were geckos that specialized in
eating all the insects around. So there were signs letting people know, “Hey!
There will be geckos in your room and around the grounds. And they’re not
pests, they’re so you don’t have to deal with mosquitos.” And they were really
effective. It was fun over dinner watching all of them sitting in shadows near
light bulbs, darting out and snagging a bug or two. Apparently geckos don’t bug
me at all, and I thought this addition was awesome, and thought more people
should adopt this. I think that’s all my thoughts.
From the mainland, we took a Taxi to our hostel on the
beach. We had decided (over lunch the previous day, as had become our pattern),
that we couldn’t leave Central America without some quality beach time. So we
had booked a room at Hostal Matilda.
We had already grown to like our cab driver, Luis. So much
so that we had booked in for our return trip/adventure up to Granada (which I
will talk about after it happens tomorrow). BUT, it was at this point that we
became super THANKFUL for Luis. I’ll back up a bit. North of San Juan Del Sur
(a big beach town) there are three small beaches. Think of the beaches as the
tips of the prongs on a three prong fork. They are close to each other, but it
takes a while to get from one to the other by road (all the way up and down the
prongs). Does that make sense? For the sake of this next section, it may help
you to know that “Playa” beams “Beach”. We had meant to book a room at a hostal
in Playa Marsella, which is supposedly a super relaxing beachfront. In fact, I
had even written it down and we had asked Luis to drive us to Playa Marsella.
We were on our way there, when I got a nervous feeling in my gut and
impulsively double checked our trusty Lonely Planet guide book. Whoops! We had
actually booked a room at a hostal in Playa Maderas, which is the most
“happening” with a cluster of hostels, a few restaurants, and a couple places
to rent surf of boogie boards. He asked what hostel we were staying at, and we
said Matilda’s Hostal. He said that he knew it, and that it wasn’t at either of
those beaches, it was at Bahia Majagual (“Bahia” = “Bay”). We told him our book
said it was at Playa Maderas, and he drove us to the fork in the road (thank
goodness this happened before all the road split off), and sure enough! The
sign for Matilda’s Hostal was pointing the same way as the sign for Bahia
Majagual. So that’s the road we took. Honestly, we hadn’t even given this beach
option a second thought. There was nothing in the guide book about it except
that it exists and has very limited services. You know what, just for fun, I’ll
write literally everything that our book says about this beach. For
comparison’s sake, usually when the book talks about a location it has at least
three sections for Sleeping, Eating, and Activities. For Bahia Majuagal, this
is literally all it said:
“This beautiful bay, with its steep, white-sand beach, is
perfect for swimming – watch the rip current, though. It has only average
surfing; you’ll need to walk about ten minutes to get to the big breaks. Note
that tourist services are quite limited here”
And. . . that’s it. Except for an end note that you need 4WD
to get here – not true. Luis drove us here in his small (4WD-lacking) sedan,
albeit quite skillfully. But – thankfully – Luis knew the hostal and was able
to do just that, drive us here skillfully.
Again, we lucked out. The hostal was beautiful and perfect.
You enter from the beach into a courtyard full of trees and hammocks. Our room
ended up being the first one on the left – the one closest to the beach. We
could walk from our bed to the beach in less than fifty steps, with the only
inconvenience being needing to duck under the hammock hanging on our personal
porch.
The book wasn’t lying when is said that services were limited.
Apart from this hostal (which in and of itself has limited services), there are
two other “restaurants”. One right on the beach, on the other side of the
courtyard wall from our room, and the other about a three minute walk
overlooking “Sunset Beach” – named for the obvious reason that it has a perfect
view of the sunset.
It is here in this perfect little beach town (using the word
“town” liberally), that we have wonderfully proceeded to do mostly nothing.
We’ve been pretty good at it, if I do say so myself. Our days have consisted of
reading, tide pooling, swimming, hammock swinging, eating delicious(!!!)
burritos, sun screening, and wandering between beaches to try different foods/drinks. Note able events include waking
up this morning and shortly after being greeted with half a dozen howler
monkeys (I’m guessing that’s what they were – Justin, you would know for sure)
grunting in the courtyard. It sounded humorously like a child impersonating a
monkey! Wearing clothes that were barely thrown on after the sudden excitement,
we wandered around the courtyard following each grunt (howl?) to the deliverer.
And then to the next. And the next. Pointing them out in amazement in the
treetops above the courtyard. It was awesome. So awesome that I’m not even
going to post a picture, because I feel
like our pictures do the experience justice, and I don’t want you to
come to the mistaken conclusion that the experience was any less awesome that I
tell you it was. It was super awesome.
Other notable events: we both finished both our books and
Kenny got to experience for the first time the wonder that is a
take-one-leave-one hostel bookshelf (one of my major simple-joys of travel);
Kenny got stunk by a jellyfish(?), but don’t worry, he’s okay); and we went
horseback riding on the beach near sunset time, which felt like a fantasy.
Actually, that could use a bit more description that lumped
into a list. We saw some other people riding horses, and when they stopped, we
talked to the guide and got his number. One thing we liked about him is he
seemed like a legit cowboy. Clothes, demeanor, the confidence with which he
road. He could have been straight out of the Mary Kate & Ashley “How the
West Was Fun” move (Okay, fine choose your own cowboy movie). Okay, even I’m
going to revise my movie. He was from some Clint Eastwood movie . . . one of
the cowboy ones, not Grand Tarino. But really, truly. He was a badass.* For
proof, here is a picture Kenny took of him riding up the beach on his horse,
bringing in tow the two horses for me and Kenny. Does he not look awesome, or
what?
So, as you put together by now, we booked a time to go
horseback riding with him. He showed up like the aforementioned badass he is,
with our two horses in tow. And we got to horseback down the beaches and
through the forests, and it felt like I was living in a fairytale. It felt so
dreamlike and surreal. Kenny has a way of making my dreams come true.
So I know that it sounds
like we did a lot, but trust me when I say we haven’t. Or at least, it hasn’t
felt like it. It’s been very relaxing. We went to sleep and woke up to the
sounds of the waves. The days have passed leisurely, and the time has only been
marked by when the sun is hottest and when we get hungry. These few days have
been a lovely escape, and a memorable and relaxing part of our trip.
Kenny’s Thoughts: I
really loved it here. While seeing the different sights we have in Costa Rica
and Nicaragua, taking this slow respite in this tropical beach paradise has
been really refreshing. Our days here have been easy going, and utterly
enjoyable. It’s hard to believe that the beach could be so close –and that’s
saying something coming from someone that went to UCSB for school. This place
couldn’t look more like a catalog of a beach paradise, if I tried to make it
so. Also, the food shack right outside the front entrance to our hostel has, I
think, the best burritos I’ve ever had. It was really fun this morning when we
woke up around 6:45 to what sounded like the deep frustrated bellowing of some
sort of weird monkey. So we threw on clothes and ran outside, and saw a
squirrel and a monkey having a standoff. It was so funny, because the squirrel
was making that stereotypical chittering noise – that movie they make in movies
– and what I can only assume was a howler monkey was making a very guttural and
very stereotypical bellow back at the squirrel. It was really exciting to see,
and was made more so by the multiple other howler monkeys that came in as
reinforcement to the calls of the first
monkey. And pretty soon, right outside our door early in the morning, we
were surrounded by howler monkeys. All hollering and claiming this area as
their turf. It was really cool to see. Our sunset horseback ride on the beach
was also wonderful and extremely romantic. Our trail guide was what I can only
describe as a Nicaraguan Clint Eastwood, mixed with a Malbro man. But a lot
thinner, and super leathery skin. It was a lot of fun just trotting around on
the beaches and through the local jungle, just the three of us. Oh, and the
ceviche! Lastly, a local restaurant has hands down the best fish ceviche I’ve
ever had – bar none. Anyone looking for a tropical surf paradise, I couldn’t
recommend this place higher. I think that’s all my thoughts.
*Sorry about the language – nothing else seemed to fit.
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