The sun rose and after a comfortable (more or less) recuperation for a few days, it was back to the traveling life. It was bright out by 8am and my eyes didnt open a moment before. Still without a travel guide, directions and insight came entirely from the locals. Quickly the realization came that this insight could usually be trusted and so far had almost made things easier and more reliable than what the travel guide had to offer. The hostel-mates gave me sharp directions as to where the bus station was in Granada and where I needed to go. From Granada, I needed to head to a town called Rivas. from Rivas, hop a cab to a few miles to San Jorge and from there, jump on a big taxi-boat to the fabled volcano island.
I said goodbye to the few people who had been more than hospitable to me at the hostel and made my way into the streets of Granada. The bus station was about a mile away, so along the route, I picked up some fruit and snacks in preparation for any future catastrophe, but all in all, everything went well. Of course the local beggars harassed me every step of the way as I trudged backpack and guitar in tow through the narrow dirt roads of the city. unscathed, and at the bus stop, i purchased a ticket to Rivas and then had about an hour and a half to kill.
Right by the bus station was a little cabana where a family sold drinks and some food. All the locals waiting for the bus and some yokels who looked like they never left the place gathered under the thatched roof to escape the sun. The heat had come out quickly and I, like the others went over to seek refuge from the heat. Once under the thatch, I treated myself to a fresca and took a seat at the bar. Immediately after, a shabby looking Nicaraguan man caked in dirt and missing a few teeth from his gristly face took a seat beside me. Immediately he goes into the bit where he asks me for money for one reason or another. I think in this particular instance, it was for food. I dug into my little man purse (for my backpack was loaded on the bus) and found the loaf of break i had gotten the other day. I broke a piece off and offered it to him. with a scowl on his face, he shook his said and reiterated that he needed money. annoyed, I put my bread away and told him I would only give him food and no money. He muttered something less than pleasant under his breath and swung his body from the bar back to a table that was right beside it. There he sat and scowled at me until I left.
Eventually the time came to board the bus. Actually, you could have boarded the bus anytime you wanted, but it was so humid inside that only those intent on getting the seat of their choice dared to enter. I could have cared less, as long as there was a space for me to wedge myself into then I would wait till the last moment before boarding the bus. Personal space, hygiene, comfort, commodity, excess, all this was irrelevant. My thought process at this moment was split in two and it revolved around humid and cool. The hour and a half passed as time always would and the passengers began boarding the heat trap of a bus. Of course, as I had so decided, I was the passenger who followed onto the bus after the driver. Sure enough, it wasnt a packed trip and I found a nice little bench seat that I could have all to myself. A few moments later, we departed. It was one of the easiest routes taken in my travels. Two hours on decent highway without any hiccups or delays.
In a way, I blinked and arrived in another bustling little boomerang town where buses and taxis were more plentiful than cars. Little kiosk shops were all over the place and the owners all sat out in the front harassing the travelers to purchase their goods. bus drivers and taxi drivers hollered out their destinations and tried to scrounge up every last passenger. I found a hollering cabby and asked him if he could take me to San Jorge. He said he gladly would, but for twenty dollars. I knew San Jorge was only about two or three miles away, so I told him he was outrageous and tried to haggle. the cabby wouldnt play the game and refused to budge so I made my way down the line to find somebody who would. A few cabbys later, I was starting to think that I was being played. Nobody would budge on the 20 dollar price. getting a little frustrated, I continued down the line and eventually came to a driver who settled on the equivalent of 7 dollars. I was still being ripped off, but it was much more manageable than the others. I hopped in the cab and a few minutes later I was at a port where I could see the two volcanoes off in the distance.
I paid the cab driver and then took a moment to marvel at the beauty of Concepcion and Maderas, the two volcanoes on the Island that rested in front of me. The sky was clear blue everywhere except over the island where clouds covered up the volcano tops but it was by no means a daunting coat of gray. The water reflected the light back and forth from the dense white clouds and lit up the whole island in what was some sort of natural halo. I hadnt quite arrived yet, but just having the island it sight, and it being so magnificent, was a feeling enough of satisfaction.
I purchased a ticket for the taxi boat and boarded shortly after. It was another hour or so before we took off and I waited impatiently as vendors would come on and off trying to sell people things for their journey. Mainly Nicaraguans were on the boat, and many with bags of groceries, appliances, and other things that required trips to the mainland. I at one point, saw a family of three (husband, wife, and kid) board with a few bags of groceries, a dog the size of a guinea pig and a large duck that was patiently sitting in a plastic bag. I couldnt help but come to the obvious conclusion that the dog was probably going to be a pet, but this well mannered duck was going to be dinner. Sure enough, they sat right behind me and I tried to listen in on their conversation but all i could make out was that the kid was having a tough time holding on to the dog. Still every few minutes or so, I couldnt help but look back and see what the duck was up to. It was a pleasant as could be.
By the time we took off, the boat was pretty full of people, both national and international. Still it was mainly spanish that surrounded me. As we made our way to the island, I stood near the side of the boat and looked out at the passing water. Right next to me, was the kid from the duck family and he was having a blast. He had cob of corn that he had already cleaned out and he would bite off part of the cob and spit it into the water. as soon as he would do that, fish would surface really quickly and eat all the little bits of cobb. He caught me watching and instantly began talking to me. He knew exactly what type of fish they were and what other animals could be found in the lake and only in the lake. He continued to spit his cob into the water and laugh with excitement only a child could have and then look my way to see if I was having fun. Although I cant remember now, I know i picked the childs brain about the area and relished in the fact that I was speaking with him. I had found that speaking Spanish with children was always very insightful because i was more on their level. I also had to ask him about his duck and what he was going to do with it. He replied that it was a pet, just like the little dog that his father was holding.
Eventually, we made it to the island where I said my goodbyes to the boy and focused my sights on finding room and board. I could have looked into hostels before I left Granada, but the only sight on my mind at the time was to get to the island and climb Concepcion the next day. Besides, there were always people more than willing to give advice on where to go in their town and as small as community as this was, I figured it wouldnt be too hard.
Sure enough, as I was walking off the dock onto solid land, A man ran up to me and asked me where I was going. Of course I replied i dont know and that i needed to find a hostel that was close and cheap. As luck would have it, the sun was setting as well and I always have that sinking feeling when I dont know where I am and dont know where I'm going. Right off the bat, the man told me I should stay at Merida (at least I think that is the one). He gave me quick directions and then was off to help the next person. I began my trek up the hill and eventually made the turn that I was told to make. Another few blocks down the road, the town started to thin out and a big wooden structure with Hacienda Merida on the side jumped out to me. I stepped in and the place was vacant. There was an old man who was absolutely wasted at the bar and the bartender quickly asked me what i needed. He Checked me in, took my cash and showed me to the dorm where I chose a bed.
The hostel was pretty impressive. Everything was in shambles, but the bar/restaurant room was huge and it had a little patio that separated the private rooms from the dormitories. There was also artwork everywhere and a pretty extensive library. One of the better hostel libraries I had seen. Still there were few books that looked worth a damn in the english language. As described, it all held a very rustic feel to it looked like it was constantly under construction. Either way, I knew I would have ample time to explore the place later, but while there was still some semblance of light out, I needed to get dinner and figure out how to sign up for a volcano hike the next morning.
I asked the bartender and he directed me to the front of the island for the hike. When I arrived there, It was a quick process to sign up and come 8am the next morning, I would be on a bus out to 1500 meter tall active volcano. My next question for the man was to make sure Ometepe was a safe place at night. The man assured me it was and that I wouldnt have problem. With that, i thanked him, told him i'd see him in the morning and started heading back up the hill through town.
On my way back, I found a hotel that served a reasonably priced casado dish. I dipped into the chatted with the man seating me for a moment and then sat down to enjoy some fresh coffee and decent food. mid meal, the man who sat me (and who also happened to be the owner of the hotel came up to me asking me if I could translate to english for somebody. I obliged and he brought over a young traveler who couldnt quite understand the terms of the hotel. The man spoke to me and I spoke to the kid in what was my first formal translating experience. Basically he needed me to convey to him that there was no electricity before five PM and no hot water before the same. In order to conserve power, most of the island operated that way. The kid ended up taking the man up on his offer and the man thanked me for helping out. Content with the clear improvements of my new language, I contentedly finished my meal.
On my way out, I thanked the man for the meal and began to head back to my hostel. Night was in full force and the electricity was on throughout the town. As I made my way up, I passed another little hostel/restaurant that was brightly colored and very nice looking. There was a young girl out in front and asked me if I knew where I was going. I let her know and this led her to more questions. Before I knew it, I had taken a seat alongside the girl and we engaged in conversation. She was an Island native and had actually spent very little of her life off the island. of course my next question was to see if she had made it to the top of concepcion because I had heard it was no easy feat. She had never even tried to climb it. Truthfully, she said it scared her. She also told me about past times it had erupted and island evacuations took place. We talked on and on, and then we got into something that I wasnt quite understanding. A string of words and her other descriptions werent helping me either. In times like these, I would resort to my little dictionary so that is just what i did, but just as I was telling her this, my words froze and I realized that I had left my little man purse at the restaurant. To make matters worse, along with my dictionary, that purse also carried my passport and some cash. I let her know what happened and quickly took off running the other direction.
A minute or two later, I arrived back at the other hotel and as soon as the man saw me, he greeted me and asked me if I left my bag. I thanked him a bunch and the group of men that had since congregated around the entrance gave me a hard time as they drank and smoked cigars. Crisis averted I made my way back to the hotel where the girl was. She told me she had to go back in and get back to work, so I said goodnight and headed back to my place of residence. Once back at merida, I read for a bit in my room and then took up a stool at the bar.
The wasted man from before was still there and still ordering beer. The man was beyond belligerent and had to be quickly reaching toxic levels. Also at the bar was a native american looking middle aged woman with wrinkles all over her face and long blond hair and what definitely looked like her son who was gawky, dressed in black, and thickly bearded. They began talking to me and sure enough, they were related and they were from the states. They had packed up and headed south in 2004 when Bush was reelected and had been traveling and painting for work ever since. At this hostel, they were painting murals on all the walls in exchange for their stay. Both mother and son had a spaceyness as maybe a little too much LSD had been ingested at one point or another, but they were nice and entertaining.
A moment later, another couple burst into the bar. Two kids from Canada who had just arrived in town. I grabbed a beer and began talking to them. their names were Morgan and Kelly, and they came in full of excitement and excited to rent some dirt bikes the next day and ride all around the island. They were on a quick few week vacation before Kelly had to go back to school and literally as a stab in the dark, chose Nicaragua. We had a few more drinks and then I said goodnight because I knew I had a potentially rough day head of me tomorrow. I wanted so badly to make it to the top of the Volcano. I was in decent shape and figured will power alone would get me there. My eyes closed that night with nothing but excitement for the next day.
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