Going back in time in Nicaragua

Finally on a boat bound for Isla de Ometepe I was glad to be gone from Granada. The large volume of ex-pat owned bars and restaurants didn´t justify the praise that´s been heaped on the City. I think some of the best experiences I´ve had so far, have been when up close with the local way of life. Sure I´m far too comfortable in some of the back-packer haunts and sometimes it´s hard to imagine I´m not in a European city, but the inevitable process of ex-pats moving in for business or retirement seems only to dilute the charm of a place. Granada is a case and point.

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I can accept this change as inevitable but one night I saw how quickly things were changing. One evening in the Imagine bar (yes a perfect starting point to criticize ex-pat business, a Beatles tribute bar...) there was a book launch evening for new travel guides to Nicaragua. OK, so nothing new, travel guides are essential and I´d feel fairly lost without mine, but I draw the line at releasing A guide to living and working abroad in Nicaragua. I thought the point of travelling was to experience the traditional, that travel writers would want to preserve the soul and culture of a country, not exploit it. If Granada is the case study for how Nicaragua might change as more people retire and set up business here, then I´m glad I´m here now, as I can´t imagine things will stay this way for long. Anyway, rant over...

If Granada is heaven for the retirees of the western world, then the island on Lake Nicaragua, Ometepe is like rewinding progress 50 years or so and is taste of what Nicaragua really is. The island is the formation of two volcanoes giving the place an hour-glass outline, and most people come here to climb them or simply relax like a sloth. I was definitely more of the latter. Getting to the island late at night, I was pounced on by the island´s only irritating tout and didn´t manage to shake him off until the next day. Even the other locals didn´t like him.

Idiot free I hit the south side of the island to get some serious hammock time in and swim in the lake. Keen to reach one of the lagoons and mini islands I struck off on foot (literally bare foot) along the headland to get across and to this special island. Having severely underestimated the a) distance b) the amount the lake had risen c) how important foot ware is and d) just how hot it was, I managed to get out to the headland about a 1km away and completely lost. Nice one. Thankfully a quick detour through the jungle via some rather surprised vultures and some sunbathing monkeys I found the lake and elected to swim back to the hotel. This time a far better decision, although the swim was over 1000 metres back and I couldn´t help but remember that this was one of the only fresh water lakes in the world to be home to the Bull Shark...

 
Back on dry land and thankfully told that whilst Bull Sharks are reputedly quite aggressive (one of the highest levels of testosterone in the animal kingdom), they were over-fished from the Lake years ago and are now quite rare and are very rarely seen. I made friends with some Americans that evening and was treated to some delightful lake fish and some traditional Nica grub. Food here is basic, but delicious, and you can all count on me trying to cook up some Nica food when I get back. Mum, you may want to put on a lock on the kitchen door.  

Bored of relaxing and in need of something a bit more interesting, I travelled to the other side of the lake. A distance that should only take about 15 minutes. That´s 15 minutes if there were regular buses and the roads didn´t look like the playground of King Kong. On these roads, mountain bikes overtake buses and horses overtake them both so unsurprisingly it took about 3 hours to cross the island to the eco-lodge retreat of El Zopilote.

This place was great to chill out at after a days mountain biking and take in some amazing views from their own purpose built look-out (mirador) tower. After screwing up my toe for the millionth time I bailed on climbing the volcanoes, the view is supposed to be amazing, but as they´re both covered by cloud most of the time I figured I could see better from my hammock than from at the top.

The only thing that resembled me not being a lazy toe-rag was when I teamed up with a Swedish girl and two French girls to go mountain biking to the infamous Oyo de Agua. It´s supposedly a volcanic spring pool. It´s actually a natural spring that´s been diverted to some man made pools, but it is still brilliant. Having realigned my spine on the ride there, I´m quick to regress back to being a 7 year old child in a swimming pool as the Oyo de Agua is brilliant. Cool, clear and deep water is  the perfect place to crack out the underwater camera and as ever it seems my camera does the business.

Videos
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 A gargantuan effort to get around the lake on bike is thwarted by the consistently terrible roads and possibly my lack of patients. I did happen to have the one bike that had brilliant suspension yet terrible gears. After one particularly tricky ascent, when the gears locked and the chain came off for the hundredth time, I decided what was right in the mind of a 7 year old child with the strength of an adult and hurled my bike into the bushes. Very mature. French girls not impressed... and I thought I had Joie de vivre...

Back in the hostel I decided it was time to move on and get to the coast. A surf was needed, further mountain biking definitely was not.

Onward to the Nicaraguan border, through Costa Rica to Panama...

 

Photos other than the above are

 
http://www.flickr.com/photos/richsmith/sets/72157625499618303/