I sit writing this blog post in front a a whopping great volcano on the magical island of Ometepe, which is in the middle of Lake Nicaragua. It's the stuff of fairy-tales: two huge volcanoes joining to make up the island. Now that have learnt the great new skill of sticking in maps to illustrate my locations, I will add a map. But not right now, because I am using the old tablet today which as we all know gets confused easily but now also has a massively cracked screen. This makes things difficult, but it´s not a desperate problem- I mostly use it for skype and email, and I mostly skype my parents but they seem to have given up on me in the last month... I have come to the conclusion that they have forgotten they have a daughter and are spending my wedding fund in Vegas, or maybe somebody disguised as me has turned up at their house pretending to be me. They probably secretly know that new Rachael is an imposter but since she is more willing to put the kettle on and put the dishes in the washer, they've decided not to say anything.
Meanwhile in Ometepe, I have just seen a chicken kill and eat a great big lizard two minutes after I ordered eggs for breakfast. I think I want to become vegan.
After the beach, our little group headed back to Leon for steak and an early night before the next adventure: Laguna de Apoyo. Actually, let´s dwell on that food for a moment. I´ve had a pretty good couple of weeks´eating here in Nicaragua... it helped to have a good group of people to go out to restaurants with, but I haven´t had a bad meal in the whole time I´ve been here. And it´s so damn cheap- A really good quality steak for three pounds; breakfast for one pound fifty or something. The hostels have also been the best I´ve stayed in for the money I´ve paid... usually $7 or 8 US for a dorm bed. They often have pools or a handy nearby lake to swim in, too... I like Nicaragua.
Moving on: the journey was smooth enough- a local bus with all our luggage piled on top of us (the driver was trying to punish us after I refused to buy my bag its own seat [yes, it is really that big...]) and later a taxi who played us the entirety of Abba's greatest hits at full volume. We had arrived at Laguna de Apoyo.
I loved that place. I realise that I declare love for most places I visit, but Apoyo was pretty perfect after being in a sweaty city for a few days. It's a volcanic crater with supposedly the cleanest water in Nicaragua. We were staying in a hostel right on the water, with nothing else around it bar a couple of other lodges. In the mornings the boys had spanish lessons and the Yank and I would swim, sunbathe and write. I have decided that one day I will return for a couple of months in solitude and write a novel. I have actually bumped into a guy several times on my trip who is doing just that, but just before reaching Apoyo had his laptop stolen... When I saw him last he seemed to be wandering around in a bit of a daze, but like a true artist is positive to the point of sick enthusiasm that the experience will all the more enrich his writing. I genuinely look forward to reading his work.
Other lakeside activities included perfecting our diving, kayaking and card playing skills. Great company and piña coladas on demand made me want to stay forever, but time is - ticking and after ten days of tagging along, the boys and I went our separate ways- ie. north and south. Besides which, it was probably quite healthy to get back to civilisation: one afternoon,Yank and I caught the shuttle into Grenada and came over all excitable and overwhelmed by the sights of the city. The free tasters of chocolate liquors along the way probably helped.
On Thursday afternoon I found myself back in Granada for a couple of nights. The Yank in tow, we made the most of the readily available amenities and got haircuts. This was always bound to be risky in Central America and especially so with two hair-stylists who didn't seem keen on speaking to us in any language because their TV drama was on. But I was feeling wild and had the equivalent of three whole pounds in my pocket. Plus I actually trusted these folk more than Sharon from Ipswich who hacked my hair off last time... and it all turned out fine. We celebrated our success with huge steaks and gelato ice cream. I really feel that food is becoming more and more the focus of my trip, but I suppose travelling is pretty exhausting and impossible to do on an empty or disappointed stomach. I don´t think I´ll be returning back to the UK too obese though, because I keep being tricked into doing ridiculous things like climb volcanoes! More of that to come.
I spent Friday taking a boat tour of the isletas around Granada. Fun fact: there are 365, one for every day of the year, located just around the peninsular on the edge of Lake Nicaragua. Most of them are no more than a piece of rock, but some have had families living on them for a couple of hundred years or so (must be pretty incestuous by now). There is also one place named "monkey island" because it is inhabited by a family of five monkeys... they´re the pets of some super-rich Nicaraguans apparently, who never really see them. They monkeys are doing pretty well though- the local islanders keep them well fed and tourist boats like ours visit every day to say hello. The isletas were pretty unique, and it was nice just to be on the water again with a breeze, but I don´t think I could live there. I´d have to get really into embroidery or something. The blog would go a bit stale.
Garlic shrimps and more ice-cream and coctails, before Saturday travelling day to Ometepe. I came here with two Canadian girls who were a lot of fun and have since convinced me to change my life plan to include a year working in Canada. I will tell them all that I am Kate Middleton´s cousin or something and I will be a hit.
Since starting to write this, my computer tablet has well and trully given up on me. I´m over it and can now use a real computer to do this:
View Larger Map
To get here, we caught the chicken bus from Grenada to Rivas. It was packed, sweaty and smelled of fish. Upon arriving in Rivas, we were hounded by a hundred taxi drivers wanting our gringo money- something which is inevitable at bus stations but usually the last thing I feel like dealing with after a groggy two hour bus ride. Either way, we negotiated a shared taxi to the ferry dock with a french guy I´d seen before in Apoyo. He looked a lot like Gerard Butler, but was definitly french in his way of appearing amused while slightly bored of everything around him. At the dock, we managed to grab a cheap ride across the lake on a local cargo boat, which was entertaining. I´m glad I had an empty stomach at that point.
Once on the island, the girls and I opted for lunch before finding our way to a hostel, leaving Gerard to go rogue and bus his way over to Santa Cruz. Of course we spent almost two hours eating and drinking every variety of smoothie and missed the last bus there... never really a problem though, because as usual someone knew someone who had a "taxi" and could take us in exchange for dollars. It was the best damn taxi ride ever. The Canadians wedged themselves in the back of the guy´s jeep while I sat up front with him. We got a pretty good tour of the island, driving inbetween the two volcanoes and dodging farm animals all the way. The driver told me that he´d been recruited by the secret service during the civil war when he was just 16, and lived on Ometepe which was then soley home to the military. I couldn´t help but feel a bit sorry for him now- his life sounded a lot more exciting back then and he seemed to really enjoy talking about it.
We arrived at Santa Cruz (which turned out to be no more than a couple of farms and houses) just in time for the best sunset of my trip. The only resident at the hostel was none other than Gerard, who affectionately said "oh. You again" when we walked into his previously private dorm. Later, we would adopt him as our own and proceed to invade all the activities which he had probably looked forward to doing in peace.
...But right now, I need to negotiate another boat crossing.
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