San Juan del Sur

Traveling from Monteverde to Nicaragua was quite the experience. The bus from Monteverde left at 6:30 a.m. so I was up early and at the bus station by six. The bus then carried me to where the dirt road from Monteverde met Highway 1 or the Pan-American Highway. At that junction it becomes a waiting game until the bus to Liberia is hurtling towards you, standing on the side of the road, waving it down. There were several other people there and we all hopped on. The bus to Liberia was hot so I was drenched in sweat anytime we stopped or the windows were closed. It started raining so everyone closed the windows.

In Liberia I teamed up with a couple of ladies from Holland and waited for about an hour for the bus to “La Frontera”, the border. While waiting I bought some food from a shop and purchased some mango from a vendor. It was my first experience with green (unripe) mango. It’s like eating a green apple but way more sour. When the bus pulled up we waited for it to unload and then hopped in line to get on. Once on it was another twenty-minute sweat fest waiting to get under way and onto the sweet breeze of travel to the border.

We knew we were nearing the border because there was a line of semi-tractor trailers stretched for miles waiting for paperwork to clear so they could cross the border. When the bus finally stopped we stepped out into a dusty, tropical heat, and whirlwind of activity. Women were shouting at us and leading us to a hut to pay an exit tax or something. Then there was immigration. Then there was health. By the time we made it over to the Nicaraguan side we had picked up a taxi driver who was very insistent about giving us a ride. He guided us through the necessary procedures for customs and immigration into Nicaragua. We haggled with him for a bit but then the ladies and I agreed to take his taxi to San Juan del Sur for $12 each.

Arriving felt good. I knew I would be posted up here for several weeks and would be able to settle in and chill. A bit about the town: San Juan del Sur was for a long time a small fishing village. During the civil war of the eighties it wasn’t affected too terribly because its far in the southwest corner of Nicaragua. Nowadays it’s a surf and party haven for backpackers and its economy is largely based around tourism. There’s a large density of expats resettled here and there are many businesses owned and operated by foreigners. My favorite coffee shop named El Gato Negro is owned and operated by a woman from Vermont. The surf scene is based here because within forty minutes of driving there are five or six high quality beach breaks and a consistent offshore wind. The party scene is based around a couple of hostels that have a pool-crawl on Sundays called “Sunday Funday”. I didn’t partake while I was here because I hate meeting people while I’m shitfaced. I’d much rather be hammered with friends than have to make new ones while getting hammered. I guess I’m an introvert.

The $12 taxi dropped me in front of the building that had the name of my Spanish School written on it. It was a hostel too. I parted ways with my Dutch travel partners and met my Spanish instructor, Christian. Christian took me to my homestay and then took me on a walking tour of the town. The beauty of the place impressed me. The city is built around a big horseshoe bay with a variety of boats at anchor just off shore. It was my first time since four years old that I had seen the Pacific Ocean. Christian and I got some food and caught the sunset. Before parting we made plans for lessons and went our separate ways.

I went to my first meal with my family where I met Nelgin (matriarch), Mirna (Nelgin’s sister), Nelgin (Nelgin’s daughter), Louisander or “Anders” (Nelgin’s son), Sara (Nelgin’s granddaughter), Diana (Nelgin’s daughter), and Mariah Belen (Nelgin’s granddaughter). I would be eating breakfast lunch and dinner at their house for the next three weeks. After dinner Anders and I went out on the town to meet some Australian girls that he had given surf lessons to that day. After the night was coming to an end we made plans to go surfing the next day, a Sunday.

Sunday came around and we went to Remanso Beach. I was introduced to surfing and struggled pretty hard. The waves were big and I wasn’t in shape yet for this sport. I got up a few times and rode the whitewater in. After an hour of riding whitewater we took a break and I was on my own. I paddled back out and tried to catch a real wave. That didn’t go well and I started to learn what it felt like to get chundered in the ocean. I feels kind of like you’re in a big ol’ washing machine with a piece of foam and fiberglass flying around somewhere around you. Instinct told me to ball-up and hope for the best. It seemed work and I came away without any major injuries. An English fellow I had met in Monteverde had received a board to the face, which resulted in stiches on the chin. Something I thought of once and a bit while I was learning. Anyways, I exhausted myself after a few hours and transitioned to the bar relax and enjoy a few cold ones. For the next day or two my back and shoulders were tender while my muscles adapted to the rigors of paddling a surfboard.

The next three weeks were filled with Spanish lessons in the morning followed by lunch and a nap. After my nap I would then go down to the bay to get some time in paddling and surfing the small, safe waves, on a long board. Saturdays were spent surfing at a beach break that was a little ways away. One was Playa Hermosa, another was Playa Tamarindo, and the last that I surfed was Remanso. By the time my three weeks were up I was riding six-foot waves and getting some pretty long rides in. I am stoked on how I progressed but also very humbled on how little. I’ve learned to respect the shit out of surfing for what it is. There is no instant gratification. You have to paddle out through where the waves are breaking to get to the point where you can even catch one. This was a huge challenge learning to duck dive the waves to get under them so I didn’t get smashed. You have to be in excellent shape to last the day. I am a pretty athletic dude and it took me a week to get my shoulders even beginning to function well. Then getting up on the board is another feat. The technique that is key to surfing didn’t come naturally to me and it will take some more time until I can shred. That said, I’m excited about the prospect of surfing warm water; it doesn’t take that much gear and is a fairly simple pursuit.

All in all my time in San Juan del Sur was a fantastic retreat during which I made new friends and reflected a lot on what I am doing in life. The tranquility and patience that surfing demands reminded me of the importance of being mindful and living in the present at all times… otherwise ya ain’t gonna catch the wave. I worked out everyday and am now in excellent shape. I learned some more Spanish and have gotten comfortable with the fact that this process will take a good while longer and require another trip to Latin America or Spain. I ate well and indulged a little. Now I’m going to travel a bit more here before heading back to San Jose and catching a flight to Mexico City.