Nicaragua is amazing. We were only there for 10 days, but managed to see and do what certainly felt like a lot of things. It’s a gorgeous country, friendly and welcoming to tourists, but at the early stages of developing their tourism industry pretty much all their industries.

Not too shabby

We didn’t stray off the west coast of the country due to the short schedule, spending most of our time in Grenada (1), San Juan Del Sur (2), and Ometepe (3).

The airport is in the capital (and largest) city of Managua. Getting off the plane was immediately pretty interesting.

 Welcome to Nicaragua! We’ve sent a parade.

  A Nicaraguan soccer player who plays for Costa Rica was returning home from the World Cup in Brazil; presumably the airport does not having a marching band in it every day. We then caught a cab to Grenada. Our cabbie took one hell of a shortcut leading us through a lot of sketchy neighborhoods. An example of sketchiness would be the guards wandering around the gas station openly carrying shotguns. Naturally, we needed gas. It really set up an adventurous tone for the trip, particularly because we don’t speak Spanish and no one else appeared to speak english. (This would be a recurring theme throughout the trip. Significantly less people spoke English than most other countries I have been to. In fact, many spoke basically none. Jen had to step in and save the day with the remnants of high school Spanish class) Grenada is the oldest colonial city in Central America. It’s old, colorful and full of local activity. There is a large town square, markets, tons of baseball fields and housing, hotels and restaurants. We stayed at a hotel called Terra Sol, and the owners could not have been more helpful. They were amazing. They are native Nicaraguans who lived through the revolution, moved to the states, and then back to run a hotel.

View from our hotel’s balcony. Later on, we climb that volcano.

I must have only skimmed the guidebook chapter discussing weather

The volcano you can see from Grenada is called Mombacho, and is only a short ride away. We elected to try taking the bus. A short walk through the market from our hotel was the “bus station”. As we approached, large groups of people ran up to us yelling “Mombacho! Mombacho!” “Rivas! Rivas!” and other tourist destinations, as kind of recruiters for each particular bus. We got on the Mombacho bus, paid our 60 cordobas (just over $2) and were on our way.

Not pictured, my head, at a 90 degree angle

These buses get quite full. Every seat was taken, the entire walkway was shoulder to shoulder standing, and there were people on the roof. Still, more people got on. Finally, once I was certain no one else could fit… A series of venders got on the pass, and walked the aisles selling empanadas and the like. Also of note was the passing technique of the buses. The driver’s buddy opens the front door while moving, leans out, whistles loudly, then proceeds to yell at the truck we are overtaking. This is a two lane road with oncoming traffic.

An hour into a 20 minute bus ride, we began to suspect perhaps there was a problem. We found an Austrailian who informed us we were going to Rivas, which was an entirely different city several hours away. We struggle to tell the worker at the back of the bus. He then opens the rear door (this is still a 60kmph road, and we are in fact moving), climbs out and yells to the driver. A few minutes later, the driver honks and slows, the employee reopens the rear door and we have to jump from a moving bus, run across the street, and get on the bus from oncoming traffic the driver honked at. They charge us a new fare.

This would probably be a good time to note that the roads in Nicaragua are filled with all manner of shenanigans. Armed military checkpoints, scooters, tuktuks, horse carts, livestock (cows, horses and pigs are given free reign to graze the shoulders pretty much country wide), chickens (they are wandering everywhere, including inside some restaurants), as well as the usual crazy cars, buses, trucks and such.

Tuktuk

Safety first!

Our first attempt at navigating the roads mostly a success, we arrive at Mombacho. It’s a dormant volcano with several hiking trails. On clear days you get views of the nearby cities, lakes and sometimes even the ocean. We also saw a our first howler monkies. I never managed to get good picture of them. We were definitely aware of them for the remainder of the trip though; They are quite loud, earning their name. The sound they make kind of sounds like an angry pig, but much much louder. Locals said you could hear them several kilometers away.

We passed several farms starting the hike. This is a good representation of how many locals live and work.

A natural fissure caused by the last eruption

Growth and clouds in one of the now dormant craters

Getting back to Grenada was quite a bit easier; we hitchhiked with a guy home from Miami to visit family. It also showed us that while cheap, the buses were not really an efficient form of travel for people with limited time. Great for people traveling a whole summer, but a $20 one hour cab ride generally seemed worth the money. A bus would often take 4 hours to the same destination.

The next morning we left for San Juan Del Sur. This is where most of the non-missionaries from our flight were headed. It’s the closest thing Nicaragua has to a developed tourist destination, based around it’s world class surf. I’m glad we took a cab because we quickly learned that paved roads disappear almost immediately after you leave a main city. Nicaragua’s infrastructure seems to be at the point where paved roads exist within cities, and a single two lane highway between major towns.

We stayed a 20 minute walk up a dirt road at El Jardin, a small hotel owned by French expatriates. We loved the hotel and it’s great views. It was located in the middle of the string of beaches in the area running up the coast. After a day of walking, we rented a car to save some time and blisters. I can’t believe they were willing to rent a  5 speed Toyota Yaris economy car knowing that it would primarily be driven on dirt roads, fully off road frequently. It performed admirably, peeling out up the steep and loose gravel hills, bottoming out occasionally, but never getting stuck. I’m glad we can both drive stick shifts well, because it’s a must have skill for countries like this.

Every panel was marked as damaged on the rental agreement

I thought the highlight of the area was the premier surfing beach of Maderas. It’s a relatively remote beach about 10km from town down some very hilly and crappy roads. We were the only ones there without a truck, but the Yaris got there and back with a minimum of brute force. Had it rained, it would have been a very long day.

The surf was incredible. I don’t think I’ve seen anything that good anywhere in the world. The beach is shallow, but sand. You can walk 100+ yards out and still be waist deep. Most surfing wave break over reefs and other sharp/painful things, so this was pretty much the ideal setup. On the beach was kind of a hippie surf community of shanties, tents, and hammocks. Power was supplied by generator only, bathrooms were outhouses, and everyone was very dirty close to mother earth.

Unfortunately the pictures fail to capture the actual waves. 100% photographer error. Our waves look tiny, but they were impressive in person and rolled in slow and smooth giving experienced surfers opportunity to do the type of stuff you see on tv.

We are not experienced surfers. I think we both did pretty well for our first time ever, but I’m not sure how fast we’ll be pursuing another attempt. Two days was probably enough for quite some time. We both got up and rode waves, but also got pretty beat up in the process. We both also got multiple jellyfish stings which really put it over the top. Jen described it as the hardest thing she has ever tried, and said if skiing had been that hard she would not be a skier today.

With a good attitude, you can accomplish anything

The next leg of travel was by boat across Lake Nicaragua to Ometepe island. Ometepe is an island formed by two volcanos, one active and one dormant. The entire southern island was the previous dictator’s private cattle ranch. During the Sandinista revolution the land was redistributed back to the people (read: cronies of new regime). It’s a large island that feels larger because travel is so slow there. The majority of roads are unpaved and in even worse condition than the mainland. It’s not possible by car, and trucks or vans are limited to first and second gear near crawling speeds. The only somewhat efficient mode of travel is a dirt bike.

Our hotel was Finca Montania Sagrada, in the “town” of Merida on the southern part of the island. It’s a farm run a by a German-Italian couple. There were tons of animals around the working farm. Dogs, parrots, chickens, pigs, cows, and the islands healthiest looking horses. Two of the dogs looked like the chupacabra.

Nope.

Neighbor’s kitchen

The restaurant in the center of town. Partial roof, no walls, dirt floor, chickens roaming the dining area, and delicious.

After a day or two of exploring by foot, we finally broke down and rented a dirt bike. Despite being a little scary, it was far and away the best form of transportation available. The ability to ride a motorcycle is another invaluable skill to have while traveling. I may not ride anymore, but I was very glad to have some previous experience. We took it slow and easy; I’d never ridden with a passenger before and to say Jen hates motorcycles would be understatement.

Taking a break to let the cows move by

We did 100km of roads like this one day, circling one of the volcanos

The road to our hotel by day

And night. No Pressure.

We rode the motorcycle to the start of a three hour hike to Cascada San Ramon. I was feeling nervous about trying to drive up the mountain with a passenger, so we opted to leave the bike and hike about an extra hour in the name of safety. Solid plan on paper, terrible upon execution. Hiking in the jungle is currently the hottest activity known to man. It wasn’t too physically demanding but the heat was relentless and the sweating profuse. The waterfall ended up being worth it, but only just barely, and partly in thanks to some French tourists who were kind enough to give us a ride to cut out some of the hike back down. I would absolutely do it again, but I’d definitely take the opportunity to drive up the first bit.

Leaving Ometepe was a long day of cabs, ferries, cabs and more cabs. On a return trip, I’d almost certainly rent a car. We spent the night in Grenada again and took the opportunity to see an active volcano named Masaya and take a swim in a volcanic crater lake.

The last night in Nicaragua we stayed at the Hilton in Managua (the capital). It was a welcome luxury! It also happened to be the 35th anniversary of the revolution and Ortega was throwing an enormous event. On the street our hotel is on. It was madness.

All buses were shut down and delegated to only take people to and from the political rally. We started hearing fireworks and festivities at 6am and it hadn’t shut down by 10pm. All network TV channels hosted all day live coverage of the event and all other channels were completely pulled off the air. It was one of the few times it truly felt like we were under a dictatorship. (The other times being the armed military checkpoints).

Celebrations!

Celebrations!

The Man.

When your propaganda is reminiscent of Saddam it may be time for a new PR team

Countless buses like this drove by. Every bus in the country apparently.

We made it out of the country and home with no issues. Both of us would absolutely go back and are looking forward to doing so.