Hotel El Conquistador Managua

... he tells us to get up and get ready for bus.... i explain it does not take 3 and a half hours to get ready... he starts pointing his finger at me to leave hotel for bus .... i grab his finger and very angrily tell not to dare knock on my door again... instead we ask the Israelis next door to wake us up at 4am.<br><br>Getting a little worried as I am normally so calm and laid back but these Central American capitals are bringing out the worst in me....<br><br><br>

... with some locals before heading back to the hostel.<br>Found some guys going out for dinner and they filled me in on the hostel. Basically everynight, everyone from that hostel and people from other hostels drink there, then head out into town at about 11-12pm. They told me the hostel was basically musical beds and not to expect much sleep! Perfect!<br>Ended up getting pretty drunk and managing to score with this girl that made a few weird requests. Good times!

... en alle passanten die tot laat in de nacht onze kamer passeerden. Leuk detail.....er waren enkele passanten op naaldhakken die grotere passen maakten dan hun gezelschap.....hahahaha.<br><br>Benden gekomen stond de TV al aan met plaatselijke Bauertjes....er werd koffie gezet....de bewaking deed de voordeur open....en na het regelen van een aantal kofferlabels konden de rugzakken onderin de bus en namen we plaats op 19 en 20. Eerste indruk; een ...

... smell - it was indescribable. Not only did it smell, but it hurt to breathe in the air. There was so must dust and smoke from burning trash, as well as just polluted air. I wasn't sure how I would feel about going through it - but now that it is over I am really glad we did. We started out just literally walking through garbage - and it made me want to recycle! There was so much glass and plastic along with lots of other trash. The things that stood out ...

... and activities were the itinerary. His thick accent and heavily slurred words also did not gain him any brownie points. As each horse was allotted to his or her rider we began our journey. <br><br>My horses name was cacahuate, meaning peanut in Spanish. He was a smaller horse, hence the name, brown in color and very unkempt. As my little peanut and I galloped along our plump guide, Eduardo told us a story. "A long time ago (pretend he has an accent) a young mija was ...

... Masaya after being dropped off on the main road and not at the bus station but eventually we found a nice hotel. We are both feeling much better now so we are up for getting seriously active and doing some stuff. First days we off to lake apoyo a crater lake. Its a quick 30 minutes out of town via the worst bus station in the world think more dirty dusty car park combined with a rubbish tip. Then its a nice 2km stroll down hill to the lake. At the ...

... back to the same place we started, covered in sweat and dirt and utterly exhausted, with 5 minutes until the arrival of the bus, sheepishly paying $31 per person for the ticket, and not happy about it. But I'll tell you, when that bus arrived, and we climbed into the blissfully air conditioned cabin, among clean high class travelers, and stretched out on our fully reclining seats with footrests while the steward handed ...

... which he said were all healthy. About 25% of the cost of having the NHS do them. So the only blood spilt was my own. And I don´t think I´ll have fond memories of Granada. I´m going to Masaya this afternoon to visit the crater lake and the artesans workshops. I´ve just heard that a friend´s brother was caught in an earthquake there a few years ago. I´m not expecting ...

... modern tractors plowing the fields in distinct contrast to the hand and back-breaking labor of nearby countries. Nicaragua&#8217;s field hands are dreaming of work. I catch a flight to one of South America&#8217;s most distant outposts, Colombia&#8217;s island of San Andres right off the Central American coast. There is no overland route.