Isla Ometepe

I caught the bus from San Juan del Sur at a casual hour and made it to Rivas where I hopped out at the ‘Purple Jesus Statue’ at the roundabout. The second I was out of the chicken bus I was offered a ride in a pedi-cab for twice as much as it would be for a ride in a traditional taxi. I thought, ”What the hell? The dude is peddling and that’s pretty neat.” So I took the pedi-cab and it took thirty minutes longer than a taxi would but I got a slower look at the city of San Jorge, got to know my cabi who has two kids, is twenty-two, and made it to the port just in time to catch the ferry to Moyagalpa on Ometepe, Nicaragua.

The ride across was slow but there was plenty of entertainment between the Spanish Soap Opera, the crew of British cyclist, and the view. La Isla Ometepe is formed by two volcanoes that protrude from Lake Nicaragua with two peaks named Conception and Maderas. Conception is an active volcano and the biggest of the two and Maderas is smaller and inactive.

Arriving on the island I was immediately verbally assaulted by taxi drivers and venders and people renting motorcycles. I always entertain these folks for a bit by listening to them for and maybe doing some negotiating if I feel like it. I negotiated with a taxi driver for a short while but then ended up meeting some Europeans who were going to take the bus to the same spot that I was. They were going to kill a couple of hours in the town before catching the bus to the other side of the island. We found a cheap restaurant and chilled there for a while before catching the chicken bus to Santa Cruz.

The bus rolled up and was packed. At that point we looked at each other and asked if we wanted to do this or take a taxi. We did it. Taking this bus involved throwing our backpacks on top to one of the porters then cramming into the bus. Literally cramming. I found myself at the very front of the bus standing next to the driver, shoulder to shoulder with the other passengers. When he shifted he would sometimes hit my leg with the gear shifter, it was cozy. I even got to read the registration that was in a placard in the front. Turns out the bus I was on was a 1987 International from Flagstaff, Arizona. Here I was riding in it on a volcanic island in the south of Nicaragua.

After a couple hours we got to our hop off point and walked a short ways to El Zopilote, a eco-farm/hostel. This place had all very basic amenities and a restaurant that sold products that were largely sourced from the farm. There were a ton of new age “hippies” at the farm that are into disconnecting from our consumptive roots and trying out a different style of living. This usually leads to a sort of sense of anarchy that leads to poor service when it comes to service based industry like restaurants. Some of my travel companions found this too be too much and got frustrated with place. I don’t tend to care that much.

So that first night, after dinner, a Dutch fellow talked us into climbing Conception, the taller, active, volcano. We were up at 5 a.m. the next morning and at the bus stop to meet our guide and catch the bus. The bus ride was about thirty minutes long and and when we disembarked, thus started a five hour long slog to the top. Along the way the views were fantastic. There were banana trees, steep boulders to climb around, a fairly vertical ascent, hawks flying below us, and clouds passing below. There was another group climbing at the same time with a few more people. In the other group was the only fellow U.S. citizen that I would meet on the island and he was going very slow. At one point he pulled out a bottle of vodka and took a draw and said, “I need it. I’m working on weening myself off.” Shit dude, vodka doesn’t help climb volcanos. Anyway the top was crazy, looking into a live volcano is a pretty humbling experience and the sulfur stinks like rotten eggs.

The way down was nearly the same route as the way up except for one spot where there was a sand and gravel slide that one could run straight down. That was pretty neat. This section could be taken in leaps and bounds that carried me as much as ten feet down hill on what was likely a forty degree angle slope. By the time we were half way down everyone was out of water and starting to get cranky because of de-hydration. Our group started getting spread out because we all have different stride lengths. My buddy Blaine and I started getting ahead and missed a turn. We were cruising along and ended up coming out a long way from where we were supposed to be. We found some people to fill my water bottle and waited for the bus. When we met the bus we rode it for a bit before hopping out at the beach to have some beers and do some skinny-dipping in the lake. That night dinner was extra tasty and I crashed out pretty early.

In the morning I had a very chill day of looking for routes back to Costa Rica and researching the state of the border. There had been some conflict there in the past weeks because some Cubans were working on getting to the United States. After my research I walked to Ojos de Aguas which is a natural pool system that runs out from under Volcano Maderas. I thought the walk there was going to be a quick 5k which turned out to be 8k or more one way. I ended up walking back in the dark. That was a nice adventure and I got to practice singing because I get scared of the dark.

In the morning I caught a bus to the ferry and began my journey to the airport so I could catch my flight to Mexico City. I’m here in Veracruz now, getting ready to kayak, and working on writing up more posts for later.

Update: this post was finished in Jackson, WY way after I should have published this. Sorry there are no pictures. Those may come later.