And...I'm back. Ready to discuss what is one of the most special places. It is a beautiful island here called Isla de Ometepe, formed by two volcanos that create dramatic views from anywhere and everywhere you look. Amazing. Anyways, a brief rundown of the week in bullet point form, so I don't ramble on and on:
Hopped on the morning bus to Rivas, which was apparently rush hour. We had seats thank god, but it felt like the seats were smaller than ever, and unfortunately more people meant more sweaty armpits there to accompany us along the way.
Boarded the ferry for the island. A bit of a side-note: Anita and I are probably the two people in the world most prone to getting car/seasick, so we have been fearing this ride since we got to Nicaragua. I was most seasick before the boat even left the dock, and then, thanks to bad spanish-language music videos (I couldn't take my eyes off them!) and fear of death from toppling over with the waves, I forgot about being sea sick and we made it to the other side, sans vomit. Moral of the story? I'm pretty sure my seasickness is mostly mental. It should be called instead, "paranoia of being seasick." That's an ailment in itself, right?
Arrived at the beautiful island and took a taxi to Merida, where we were heading to stay.
Ometepe has BUMPY roads. I'm talking butt-numbing bumpy. For at least an hour of the ride. I am not exaggerrating at all when I say that this island is extremely undeveloped. Which is one of its main assets. Sooo...beautiful scenery along the way, and our first views of the volcanoes. So pretty. Can I stress that any more?
We arrived at our hostel which was along the lake and the most calm place in the world (pictured here). There is really nothing to do on this island except relax. No stores, nothing. So we were forced, happily, to just sit around, swim in the lake, lay in hammocks (but not for long though because I get seasick), watch the stunning nightly sunset, and read our books. Bliss.
Next day, a hike to a waterfall. And when I say hike, I mean a walk to the bottom of where the hike started, where we were kindly picked up by a couple with a car who drove us to as high as we could go in the car, which was about 45 minutes from the waterfall. They cut down our hike by a good two hours, bless them. They were god sent. Especially since it was completely uphill and rocky and in the sun. The waterfall was more like a wading pool, but no less magical. Anita sat on the rock where the water actually fell and said it felt amazing. I chose to only indulge my feet and wade.
Took a bumpy ride with that same couple down to the very south of the island, and shared the road only with locals (some on horseback), pigs, horses, dogs, cows, lots of wild animals. I want their simple life. Really I do.
Yikes this is going to be long. I am rambling like I had promised I wouldn't. Oh well.
Next day was the hike up the volcano! 1350 meters! Whatever that means in feet. I have been too lazy to figure it out. After countless warnings from people that the 7-8 hour round trip hike would be "the most difficult thing you will ever do in your life" (really? worse than childbirth? sorry Kelley and Leah, I'm sure it's not so bad) and that we "really shouldn't underestimate how hard it will be", we woke up after a nerve-wracking night ready to head out at 7am. We went with a group of people and two guides, and after an hour of a not-so-bad start, they informed us that it was at that point where the uphill would begin and it would continue for three straight hours. THREE HOURS. I clearly didn't believe them. But I was wrong. This uphill climb involved huge stairs made up of rocks, climbing up mud hills using your entire body...basically picture the movie King Kong. Very jungly. The guides barely broke a sweat in their 20 year old, torn apart shoes. Yeah, they do it about three times per week. No biggie. At the top we were greeted by a solitary mouse (weird, right? we think he wanted our cheese sandwiches) and a view of the crater lake, made visible when the wind carried the clouds away. Oh and by the way, we were completely beat by a mother-daughter pair who passed us while we were on our way up. The mom was probably about 60 years old. She put us to shame.
Next came the worst part of the hike - the downhill - which I thought would never end and that my kness would fall off before I reached our hostel. Either that or that my feet would never stop moving. It was hell. Luckily my knees didn't fall off and we were able to stop, and we got back, laid on our room's cement floor, and reminisced on how it really wasn't that bad. Ha. Or so we tell ourselves now.
Next day, we stayed at another part of the island where there is a beach, and went to the Ojo de Agua, which was a clear pool made up of spring water from the volcanos. This was heaven. In a nutshell. I'm serious. The nice Nicaraguan guy working there, Byron, talked American baseball with me, politics with Anita, and made us ashtrays out of soda cans. He was nice.
And the next day sadly was our last. It took an all day trip to get back to Granada, and we hung out with a nice Dutch (again!) couple who had gone on the hike up the volcano with us who we loved. And we discovered how hard we are to please since we were able to find so many annoying people at our hostel while we were staying there. Friendly backpackers we are not. People can be so weird. We'd rather just stay to ourselves. Ourselves and the Dutch couple, that is.
Now we are back and I leave on Friday! Weird! Where has this trip gone?
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