Have Itch, Will Travel

I visited the beautiful Lake Atitlán a few hours from Antigua. The lake itself wasn't as beautiful as say, Lake Titicaca, but it was surrounded by a landscape of volcanoes , and you know how I like volcanoes. I met a couple of super polite Texan rancher brothers (as in "Yes, ma'am" polite) and a Thai woman who was really nice as well. We visited the towns around the lake, observing the locals in their day to day lives and being hassled by the ones trying to sell scarves, bracelets and the like. If you have ever been to Bolivia and been harassed by the locals who see tourists as walking money bags, then you know Lake Atitlán, though I think they were worse here.

What about that doesn't appeal to you? I first heard about the activity from Ruairi, who I met in Bogota. He had the beginnings of an impressive scar on his forearm, nearly extending from his elbow to his wrist. "Right now it looks like I have psoriasis, but it was actually a burn," he told me when I asked what he did to himself. I learned that he had been sandboarding down Cerro Negro in Nicaragua when he sustained the injury. A post-it fluttered into my brain. A lack of time meant I had to meticulously plan my movements and omit many sights I originally wanted to see. But the post-it note had long been transcribed with permanent marker somewhere between Colombia and Costa Rica, and I stopped in the nearby city of Léon just to tick it off my list. The popular hostel Big Foot offered sandboarding , but in the sitting down position, like, sandsledding. But I wanted to stand up. I checked out Tierra Tours and they offered it standing up. I signed on. The first pa...

I wandered about the small town, sitting on the black beach and wondering what was so special about the place. I had only gone there to see the baby turtles hatching in the nearby national park, but there were never enough people who signed on to the tour that I left disappointed. But as a consolation, I took a shuttle from the hostel to Playa Madera and spent the day on the gorgeous beach there. The majority of the surfers used the main beach (quite flat that day), while swimmers crossed over the layered rocks to a section where water was clear, green and so calm you just float on it, without fearing a wave would crash over you. As the tide came in, the waves became larger and some decent surfing action could be seen. Soon, we were treated to a beautiful sunset over the horizon before the shuttle returned.

Still sleep deprived from New Year's Eve celebrations, Nini and I pulled ourselves from bed before dawn, making an early start for Isla de Ometepe . The chicken bus ride to the port town of San Juan kept us awake as we each fought for room to stand in, never mind personal space. It was a relief to take advantage of the two hour ferry journey for a nap, as the bus trip to Playa Domingo once we reached the island was bumpier than the minimal bumpiness required to keep a tired person awake. It was destined to be a lazy day, especially since the weather turned grey as soon as we arrived. The wind was incessant and cold, and sometimes a light sprinkling of rain would force us indoors. That evening, as Nini and I relaxed in the dorm, we talked about all the things we'd seen on our long trips and how it was about time that something happened to inspire another great blog entry. Buses getting stuck in lava pits and other such disasters entered the conversation, but there was a ...

Nini and I had lunch with a friend of hers from her earlier travels, Yair, and his current traveling buddy, Onn, and we agreed to all go out that night to celebrate the coming of the New Year. So, with another friend of Yair's and Onn's, Ali, we hit La Calzada to find something to eat. The place was alive with people, waiting out the end of 2009 with drinks in the alfresco cafes. We ran into the super nice American Peace Corp couple that Nini and I met in our dorm and had a few drinks with them. Since the clubs didn't really start until well after midnight, we decided to check out a local place, Cafe Nuit , for the countdown. The band stopped playing a few minutes to the hour and we waited in anticipation for the emcee to begin at diez . The seconds ticked on and there was no one leading the party. Suddenly, fireworks and cheers could be heard outside and everyone in the place blinked. Had we missed it? We were sure we had. So Nini began, "Five, four, three, two,...

I met up with Nini in Granada after a whole day of travel and we stayed a night at Hostal Mochilas which had hot, stuffy dorms and far too quiet a vibe for the impending New Year's Eve celebrations. We agreed to go to the hostel Oasis instead. Oasis was a large hostel near the local markets. It was far better than the last one. With open common areas where hammocks were strung up, it even had a swimming pool. And for those lazy afternoons, DVDs entertained half a dozen people who pulled rocking chairs around the tiny tv. There was a breakfast bar, a laundry wash tub on the roof and loads of bus information to the most popular tourist sights. The dim dorms had a dozen beds in them and the flyscreen doors were not particularly secure or private, but the place was airy and cool. And that was important. Hot Granada It was so hot in Granada it wasn't funny. It reminded me of Cartagena in this way, but also in that the city was really cute and full of character. Old school t...

It was strange and confusing. I caught a bus from Liberia in Costa Rica to the north border and got my stamp out easily enough, but there were no clear directions to the other side. Was it far? Could I walk or did I need to take a cab there? I learned to walk along the road past the truck stop. It led to a bus terminal on the Nicaraguan side a few hundred meters away, but the migration offices were less obvious. After a few minutes, I found them on the other side of the bank building, little booths on the outside. It was handy to have some small US dollars on hand for the entrance fee. At the terminal, I met a man who told me his NICA bus was going to Granada for a 20USD, which I learned was a normal price for a coach. I handed over my cash but got no ticket, only a baggage claim stub. Worried that I got ripped off, I asked him for it, but he said that was all I needed. It was a long wait while the other passengers crossing with the bus had their passports processed together and I h...