Four countries in one day - the journey from Antigua, Guatemala, to Managua, Nicaragua
So....we reluctantly emerged at 4am from our comfortable bed in our splurge hotel in Antigua, startling the poor sleeping night receptionist on our way out. The minivan arrived, crammed with young, bleary-eyed tourists, three of whom were on their way to the airport in Guatemala City for very soon flights, frantic that they wouldn't make it on time. They did, with just half an hour to spare....
At Guatemala City we changed buses, to a King Quality coach, with reclining seats and a uniformed hostess who gave out pillows and blankets and, later, coffee and ham and cheese tortillas - no meatless alternative. The few passengers on the coach included 2 young women from Edinburgh, five weeks into a year long trip, travelling at a very rapid pace. All facilities on board, there were no stops until we changed again to the advertised very smart Pullman bus near the El Salvador border.
The border was relaxed and friendly - immigration officials came on board and smilingly checked our passports and documents, wishing us a good journey. However, leaving El Salvador, a middle-aged Guatemalan man was escorted from the bus and searched.... we had joked between us that he would be chosen as he was wearing a shirt patterned with big green skulls.... and he was! On rejoining the bus he commented ruefully: 'Es por la camisa" (It's because of the shirt'!) Bet his wife told him not to wear it! Every border we crossed we hoped that the bag of herbs and spices we dragged with us everywhere would not be mistaken for something more exotic! So far, so good.....
All the food offered on board was meaty, except a toothrottingly sweet doughnut, so we were pretty hungry when we arrived at 1.30am, 21 and a half hours after leaving Antigua and two and a half hours late, in Managua, having piled off the bus at the Nicaraguan border and queued for an age to have our bags cursorily searched and passports checked. Somehow, we had parted with $18, too, collected by the bus steward for exit fee from Honduras into Nicaragua... the Lonely Planet says that it's $3. We were not about to argue, in the dark, late at night, with officials with guns. Buenas noches, officer!
There are 2 good hotels near the bus station, said the travel agent in Antigua...no need to book. Why we believed them we don't know, but we did, and arrived in Managua in the wee small hours without a place to stay. The hotels looked dubious to say the least and the bus station was scary, swarming with drunk touts and sundry other unsavoury characters trying to lure us to hotels where they'd get commission, A Frenchman from our bus shouted to us not to take a taxi: 'they're all out to rob us!', or they'd pick up robbers on the way. We had read such stories on the net. He had booked a taxi from a reputedly trustworthy company before leaving El Salvador, so we joined him and ended up, at 2.15am, at Managua Backpackers Hostel. Luckily they had a vacancy for a private room, with adjoining bathroom shared with another room (known in the UK as Jack and Jill bathrooms). We had to lock the adjoining room's door to the bathroom when entering and unlock it when we left. It's an interesting psychological phenomenon that the instant we heard the bolt slide across on our side we needed to pee! Our room was cramped and basic, but very welcome. At breakfast there were loads of cooler-than-thou travellers, and a primped Russian woman of a certain age, bellowing in a broad accent at the poor bewildered Spanish-speaking kitchen staff her request for a healthy alternative to the fried eggs: 'BOIL, BOIL!', as she sucked on her cigarette! We couldn't wait to leave. Managua was less scary by day, but not beautiful, and a friendly local directed us to the bus stop for Granada.
The first thing to hit us about Nicaragua was the HEAT! After cool Antigua and the temperate climate of Lake Atitlan it was a big shock, even though we'd read the climate and rainfall chart before we left Guatemala. Averaging at 33-36 degrees C, and very humid.
3 days in Granada
Arriving in Granada, we walked into the very friendly and stylish Il Padrino and booked a reasonably priced room. it's close to San Francisco church, not far from the centre. The rooms are set around a garden and there was a communal kitchen for us to cook in.
Our room at Il Padrino, Granada, Alan camouflaged
Granada is a colonial town, but it's very different from those in Guatemala. Much hotter, for a start, and far fewer indigenous people. It has a much more Caribbean feel and is more bustly and upfront. We were warned by various people, including locals, to be careful here, as tourists are sometimes targets for thieves who kidnap them and, driving. from ATM to ATM, force them to withdraw money at each one. We took the same precautions we would anywhere and did not feel threatened or unsafe.
San Francisco Convento, near our little hotel
Horses are commonly used for work in Nicaragua
We discovered that the bar above, Bocadillos, had a happy hour between 4pm and 6pm, so often rounded off our afternoon with a macua, the national cocktail of Nicaragua: flor de cana rum, guava, orange and lime juice - que rico! (Alan also enjoyed the mocktail, without the rum)
Bustling market in Granada
The place for all your coiffure and spa needs
Or here, if you prefer to go green
Another difference is the language. Officially, the language is Spanish, but it is superfast and indistinct, so very difficult for us to understand and for the Nicaraguans to understand us! We had to repeat several times our explanation that Mexican and Guatemalan Spanish is very different....so sorry, but please repeat .....and slowly, please.
The currency is the cordoba and there are about 42 to the pound. It's generally more expensive here than in Guatemala (apart from Antigua). Plus, a 15% tax is added to all restaurant bills, which whacks it up hugely.
On our first night in Granada, Gaby, the joint owner at Il Padrino, suggested that we watch a parade for the Nicaraguan equivalent of Halloween. It was due to start at 6pm, she said, but more likely to start at 7.30pm or 8, as, although she hates the phrase 'Nica time', it's a fact that most events start much later than billed. Finally, at 7.50pm, the sound of crazy music and drumming heralded the arrival of revellers dressed as witches, devils and skeletons, also oxen with skeleton costumes pulling a cart of bones, people with ghoulish painted faces running amok (one 'attacked' Anna to the delight of the crowd), and general ghostly merriment.
Ghost cow
More spooky revellers
The procession ended in the main square, where it became strangely tame, with wholesome looking young men and women dressed in brightly coloured cowboy outfits and hats, dancing sedately on a platform to polite music, our cue to go back to the hotel to eat!
Entrance to the old market, once grand and now fallen into disrepair
The magnificent cathedral
Selling sunglasses and sombreros in the scorching heat of the day
One of 2 very funny and very naughty ginger kittens at the hotel
The other kitten, exhausted after all that mischief making
And the 2 equally naughty and friendly dalmatians, Milan and Cesar, in a rare still moment
Top topiary!
Alan, very contented, quaffing homemade limonada and anticipating pecan waffles at Kathy's Waffles, a local institution
Funerary urns at the brilliant Mi Museo ceramics museum...human remains were put into these womb-shaped pots, ready to be reborn
The decoration on these urns depiciting scars suggests that they carried out caesarian sections as long ago as 500-800AD.
A modern piece - the Granada area is known for its ceramics
And a much older piece
No, gracias, we really don't want a tour of the city... didn't we meet in Antigua?!
Day trip to Lake Apoyo - hello I love you and getting into hot water...
As ever, we were longing to swim and thinking that we may not be able to for a couple of months while at Cloudbridge. So we took the sweaty chicken bus to Lake Apoyo, an hour from Granada. Dropped on the main road near the turnoff to the Lake, we started the 3.5km walk the rest of the way. Anna's flip flop broke and the tarmac was like molten lava. Limping along, we were passed by a group of friendly and exuberant transsexuals/transvestites, who declared, in English, their love for us and then drank our day's water supply! Arriving surprisingly intact, we chose the least touristy restaurant with Lake access and swam for ages in the incredibly warm water. It's so balmy because it's volcanic and warmed by fumaroles. Anna has never been so quick to get into the water! We had great fun paddling around in kayaks and swimming until it was time for the last bus back to Granada.
Buying a gaseosa (fizzy drink) at the bus station 'Mira, una chica toma su foto' (Look, a girl's taking your photo!') the vendor warned Alan
On the bus... this orange drink has never seen fruit in its life!
Sunday afternoon at Lake Apoyo
Surf's Up - feeding the mosquitos at Playa Gigante
Electing for the smaller beach town of Playa Gigante, rather than party town San Juan del Sur, we took the long, hot bus trip from Granada, changing at Rivas, a bustling market town. Dropped at a bus stop in what seemed like the middle of nowhere, we joined 2 local women and some children, also waiting for the next bus to Playa Gigante, due in an hour and a half. Blazing hot sun, tired from our journey and early start, we pondered taking a taxi, and spotted one across the road. The older of the women, small, quick and muscular, spotted us eyeing the taxi and cautioned 'no taxi, son todos ladrones!'(no taxi, they're all thieves'). The young taxi driver had also noted our interest and approached us. The woman quickly turned her back to him, facing us, making frantic gestures 'no taxi, hay un autobus' (no taxi, there's a bus'). The taxidriver looked bemused and said 'diez' ($10). The woman, her back still to the taxi driver, gestured with her fingers for us to halve whatever he says, repeating that they're all 'ladrones' (robbers). We took her advice - it's too carro (expensive), the assembled party nodding in approval, the taxi driver aghast. 'Ok, ocho' ($8), he offered. The woman shook her head vehemently. 'Ok, cinco' ($5), sighed the poor defeated taxi driver . 'Por todo' (for all of us) we said, to the delight of the women and children and the amused bafflement of the driver, who repeated in disbelief 'Por todo?'.... 'Si'. Scratching his head and breaking into a wan smile of resignation 'Ok, $6 por todo' and before he had finished his sentence, the younger of the women had opened the front passenger door and got in with a little boy, and the driver's nemesis climbed, victorious, into the back with the other. The taxi driver shook his head, glancing at us as we squeezed into the back seat. We discovered on the journey that both the women (mother- and daughter in law) were called Anna, the driver Abraham, one boy Angel, us, Anna and Alan, and ...... Menor, the other boy - nearly a complete A team! We chatted the whole way to Playa Gigante, where the family got out and thanked us profusely, the driver took us right to our door, still bearing a quizzical smile, and bade us a good trip. Hilarious.
Our Airbnb 'casita in the trees' was rustic, consisting of 2 rooms - a bedroom with adjoining bathroom and a kitchen - both rooms were independent and you had to go into each via a lockable door from the terrace, which was adorned with a gorgeous green vinyl sofa, ideal for the HOT, steamy climate. The casita was situated on a little unmade road leading from the village. Pigs, horses and chickens wandered past, though disappointingly not the howler monkeys which apparently live nearby. The chickens became quite friendly during our four nights there and by the end were tame, hopping up onto the veranda in the hope of scraps.
Chickens on the veranda of our casita in the trees
Our favourite, Mildred
Mum and very cute chicks
Huge, fascinating fungus on a tree near the casita
Still low season, Playa Gigante was very quiet, with very few tourists. The majority of those there were surfers, waiting for some good waves. We, however, ventured into the sea in the afternoon, when the waves were less crazy and had some great fun being toppled by the surf. Alan hired a boogie board (and couldn't believe his ears when the guy renting them actually started singing 'Boogie Wonderland' as he took his money!). An hour later, battered and bruised, he decided that the surf in picturesque, almost deserted Playa Amarilla, which had seemed less wild than neighbouring (and disappointingly litter-strewn) Playa Gigante, was not for beginners either. He later realised that he'd cracked a rib!
Beautiful Playa Amarilla
Boogie wonderland!
Wow - gorgeous sunset every evening
Our few days here, due to the sweltering, humid heat, were spent reading on the veranda and watching the various creatures, thn walking around the village and swimming in the late afternoons. The mosquitos were vicious and we resorted to Deet Jungle Strength repellent, which they sneered at:
___Anna's mozzie-bite covered back - Alan stopped counting at 37! Pica pica..... don't scratch!
This was not the only misfortune to befall me (Anna). Buying snacks in one of the two stores in the village to take to the beach, Alan decided that he fancied a mixed bag of crisps. Munching away under the shade of some prickly trees, he declared 'Mmm, these are tasty - they taste a bit like Frazzles'. I grabbed the packet and was alarmed to read that they were chicharrones - pork rinds! Vegetarian for over 30 years, I was not thrilled to learn that I'd eaten Pigs in Packets! A fact that Alan will not be allowed to forget for some time.... Mildred and gang ate the remainder with great gusto, but we didn't have the heart to feed them to the porkers.
So sorry, girls!
Handpainted sign on the way to the village - we feel so much safer now!
Big bird above the bus stop as we waited for the chicken bus back to Rivas on our last morning (turkey buzzard?)
So, that was our whistlestop trip through Nicaragua. We were a bit sad not to see Ometepe, which we've heard is fantastic, but, unlike our last big trip we don't have a round-the-world ticket, so we can head in whichever direction we choose after Costa Rica, a fact which we are absolutely loving and still need to pinch ourselves every now and again to believe it's actually happening.
Next post: volunteering at Cloudbridge Reserve, Costa Rica
