Isla Ometepe and a lot of rain

Trip Start Mar 22, 2005

Trip End Sep 09, 2005

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Where I stayed

Villa Paraiso Isla de Ometepe

(Montelimar hotels)

Flag of Nicaragua Isla Ometepe, Nicaragua
Monday, June 27, 2005

After spending a few days in Granada, Will and I set out for Isla Ometepe, an island in the middle of Lake Nicaragua. I really enjoyed the time in Granada and think a few weeks could go by there without one really noticing. It was much like Antigua, Guatemala and people there commented frequently that Granada is "like Antigua 8 years ago" in terms of development around tourism, infrastructure, and, of course, numbers of gringo residents. There were great restaurants and cafes, our hotel there is my favorite of everywhere I´ve been so far, and an essential tool for development: cheap internet. The bars and restaurants were filled with Nicaraguans -- not just tourists and foreigners -- which was refreshing. And, Nicaragua seems a bit more liberal that Guatemala, at least if the number of scantily-clad Nica women out at bars is any indication (in Guatemala, women generally don´t go out and they dress more conservatively). The bars played a combination of hip-hop, house and "latin" music, especially reggatone which as I understand it is a style of music created by Puerto-Ricans in NYC and is top of the charts everywhere I´ve been in Central America

bird on beach

. There was one song in particular called Lo que paso paso that we heard literally all day and all night (oh, and don't worry -- I bought a copy so I can share it with all of you when I'm home).

Unfortunately, though, just like Antigua, the beauty of Granada hides the poverty that is lurking around every corner. Kids begging pulled on your shirt if you stood close to the windows or doors at restaurants and bars, I saw at least one "glue sniffer" (the name given to kids and teens who literally sit around and sniff glue all day long) and the walk to the lake revealed worn-down side streets and rough-looking teenagers. Even still, Granada seems to be changing quickly and hopefully the boost in foreign investment can do some good for the country. Nicaragua certainly isn´t the scary place that Americans picture when they remember the sandinistas.

So, after our fill of Granada, including a morning at the market, we hopped over to the lake to catch a ferry to Isla Ometepe. I should know that no travel or transport here is ever as simple as it should be, and, not surprisingly, we stood in line for about 35 minutes while maybe 10 people bought tickets ahead of us. We decided to opt for "first class" tickets, about a $1 more, but we figured that couldn´t hurt for a 4-hour ferry ride

care for petroglyphs, dont hit with machetes

. When we got to the ferry we discovered that our first class ticket meant no more than we were on the top level of the boat -- no seats, no order, so we camped out along an outside edge with a few other people. This was the best spot on the boat until it began raining, which caused a mad dash for the areas that were covered and in the back of the ferry. The poorly-tarped roof would randomly let gallons of water spill down at one time so that no area on the boat was "safe"... amusing, sort of. Certainly a preview of what our time on the island would be about. The benefit of trying to stay dry is that we met more people and hung out with a couple girls (one who I met in Antigua) for the next few days.

But, the rain didn´t change how striking the islands are. Hardly any beach except on one side so it looks like 20-foot trees jump right out of the water at the base of two perfectly-shaped volcanos. Of course, leave it to the men of any culture to turn two nicely-shaped volcanos into a pair of women´s breasts: there´s a Romeo and Juliet legend that dates back to indigenous people about two star-crossed lovers from different tribes who decide to kill themselves. The woman´s tears created the lake, and, her breasts, the island. Whatever.

After haggling for a taxi, which turned out to be a mini-van that was dropping off various family members too, we made out way around the island to Santa Domingo, on the lesser-inhabited side of the island (which says a lot considering there are only a few thousand residents of the whole place)

island view from the ferry

. We stayed at Villa Paraiso our first night, which is supposed to the best accommodation on the island. It was great -- on the beach, good food, cute rooms. It had a Casa del Mundo feel about it and I wish we could have stayed there the whole time, but they were booked. The next day we checked out the beaches and found a new hotel and hiked around a bit to see some petroglyphs (remants of ancient people who inhabited the island) and made arrangements to hike Maderas, one of the volcanos, the next day. Hopped into bed and set an alarm clock for 5am and assumed by noon the next day we´d be literally on top of the island. And then it started raining. And raining. And raining. Not just a little rain, the kind where you don't want to venture out, no matter how much gear you have on. It didn´t stop until about 3pm the next day. In the meantime, the streets turned into rivers, pastures into lakes and, not surprisingly, a few holes sprung up in the roof of our hotel. By the afternoon, we were pretty stir-crazy and as soon as it quit raining enough to venture out, we walked along the beach and then up to Finca Magdalena, an old farm-turned-hostel at the base of Maderas. The damage done by the rain was impressive -- even more impressive were the people out trying to make their way on the streets via bike, horseback and a few crazy people in cars.

Assuming that it would be a few days before the trails up to the volcano were passable (and, that's if it didn't rain anymore), we decided to get off the island and get ourselves to the beaches in Costa Rica the next day

kate on the beach, volcano Maderas in background

. Easier said than done, we caught a 5am bus that took about 2 hours to traverse the maybe 25 km that separated us from the other side of the island and the town were the ferries left for Rivas. Not only was the 5am time for the bus not ideal, the seats seemed to be designed specifically to be ridiculously uncomfortable, and to only fit about 2 small elementary children at a time. We finally got around the island to catch the sketchy "ferry" which hardly seemed fit to get across the lake, let alone with the number of people and cargo on it. The scene looked a bit like we were refugees fleeing the island, and we felt a bit that way too. Two taxis (in one of which we sped to the Costa Rican boarder listening to some 70s music compilation -- amusing to be checking out the Nicaraguan countryside listening to "I will survive" and "YMCA"), a bus and another taxi-ride later, we were across the Costa Rican boarder and at the beach.