In Granada, I was dropped off on the main plaza, and I walked a few blocks through the hectic streets to arrive at Oasis Hostel. I took a breather for an hour, then went out for lunch at El Jardin Café, trendy, arty, upscale kind of place set around a beautiful green garden courtyard.
I walked around exploring Granada until the evening.
Granada is another of the super old cities of Latin America. Set on the northwest shores of the expansive Lake Nicaragua, it was founded in the early 1500’s only a few decades after Columbus discover the Americas. As such, it is the most well-known tourist city in Nicaragua thanks in part to the distinct Spanish colonial architecture and ancient streets underlying the busy urban labyrinth. It is also home to a flourishing culinary scene and is a jumping off point for many outdoor activities including the Masaya Volcano hike.
I returned to the hostel, to find a girl playing Ziggy Stardust on guitar. I complimented her musical taste and met Jenny from the UK.
We went out for dinner together. It turned out she was a Trotskyist, and tried to indoctrinate me during dinner, but she didn’t know who she was dealing with. I had to walk on eggshells while explaining Statism is the problem and introduced her to Voluntarism and the non-aggression principle. I kindly rebutted all her objections and concerns, and left her questioning her political ideology which she strongly tied to her identity. It was kind of a weird dinner (LOL). We still had a fun time, and it was nice to have intellectual conversation.
Later, we drank Cuba Libres (rum and coke) and played Gin Rummy—the perfect mix of cocktails and card game. Then we had a drunken acoustic guitar sing along session together.
The next day was Sunday. I went to the street market and picked up groceries. I had a video call home, then played poker all day. I had another big day, coming in 2nd place in the biggest tournament of the day, for my 2nd biggest score ever. BOOM! I’m on fire baby!
That’s how tournament poker goes. A few months of underwhelming results and wondering if you even know how to play poker anymore, and then the cards start turning in your favor and you go on a big run. Variance.
I must say this though, even though I won a lot of money, the 2nd place result was disappointing for me. I play tournament poker for the fun, challenge, and excitement of it. The money and the fact that it is a game of chance makes it exciting. The fun and challenge of winning tournaments comes from the fact that tournaments are basically strategy games.
Getting 2nd place was a real kick in the balls. I played very well at the final table and my confidence was high. I started the heads-up match (when down to just two players) as a 3-1 chip underdog. I dominated the heads-up match and was even in chips. I had a significant edge on my opponent who was visibly growing desperate. The final hand that I lost on was basically a ‘cooler’—I had a strong hand and my opponent had strong hand and all the money went in preflop. But immediately after the hand, I felt like I had been punched in the gut and realized I had made a big strategic error. I should not have put all the money in preflop in that situation. I should have applied my skill edge, and worn my opponent down over the long haul. I’ll chalk it up as another (upsetting) learning opportunity and will become a better poker player for it.
The next day I awoke late in the morning and there was no power. I went to the front desk and asked if they were aware there was no electricity upstairs, and learned there was no power in the whole country. That can happen? Like in Guate, I considered myself lucky the power failure didn’t happen the previous evening. Running hot.
The power remained out until 9pm that evening. I spent the day wandering about Granada, went to Jardin Café for lunch again, and wrote in another café.
The next day, I spent writing in the morning, then went to lunch with Josephine from Detroit and Ryan from Seattle. We went to, guess where(?), Jardin Café. It’s got really good, healthy food and drink, so I won’t complain. Afterwards we walked around for a while, and went to the Cathedral to climb the top of the bell tower.
In the evening, I went to a lovely little yoga class at Pura gym, and then had dinner at a Middle Eastern restaurant, Pita Pita. I had lamb kebabs and the food was excellent. All the restaurants I went to in both Leon and Granada served fantastic food.
I spent the next day in similar fashion, bouncing around town writing in cafes. There’s quite a few touristy attractions to do in and around Granada, but I just felt like laying low while I was there. I again went to yoga in the evening, and then went out to eat at another delicious, healthy restaurant, Casa de los Suenos, with my Dutch buddy, Mart. Almost all the Dutch people I’ve met have been super funny, interesting, and amiable people. Not sure why that is, but the Dutch are definitely my favorite nationality to encounter while traveling.
The next day I had to keep rambling. I caught a chicken bus to Rivas, and then another to San Jorge to take the ferry to Ometepe, an island in the middle of Lake Nicaragua. I left the hostel at 11am and arrived in San Jorge at about 1pm. Pretty efficient for chicken buses.
I heard the ferry had not been running normally due to high winds on the lake. I arrived in San Jorge and was told by three different people the ferry was not running today. Shit. I inquired about taking a water taxi or speed boat to avail.
About a hundred people, mostly backpackers, were sitting around discussing what to do. I asked a few people what their plans were, and most people had no idea. Some were discussing going back to Rivas for the night. I found a hostel around the corner a few hundred meters away, and checked in hoping to catch a ferry the next morning. I relaxed for bit, and then wandered out for lunch.
Near the docks, I noticed all the people sitting about had vanished. The ferry dock had opened its gates, offering one ride for the day. Shit! I ran back to the hostel, grabbed all my gear and apologized to the staff as I jostled out the door. Luckily, I hadn’t paid yet. I jogged laboriously wearing two packs with a bag of food in tow. Approaching the docks, I saw the ferry was about to depart, and I waved and shouted at the dockhand to wait. He obliged, and I made it aboard, panting.
Unfortunately, as the last person to board, I received probably the worst seat on the boat. Sitting down below, next to the old diesel engine, I spent most of the hour-and-twenty-minute ride trying not to asphyxiate. The lake was indeed choppy, and the ferry took enough water that two deckhands had to manually pump water for most of the ride. Some people got seasick and spewed over the rails.
Ometepe is a large island formed by two active volcanos in the center of Lake Nicaragua. Being isolated from the mainland (many inhabitants of Ometepe have never visited mainland Nicaragua), the island population has a unique history and is home to several archaeological sites. Rich volcanic soil provides an abundant agronomy, and is attracting a growing number of eco-projects. It is another popular tourist spot in Nicaragua.
The ferry arrived in the port of San Jose, and I took a shared taxi to Moyogalpa, the largest town on the island.
At the recommendation of the taxi driver, I was delivered to Hostel Life is Good, about a ten-minute walk outside of Moyogalpa. I made it there by about 5:30pm and ordered a beer to unwind after the day of travel. I met the lovely owners, Barbara and Raymond, who took it upon themselves to make sure guests had an enjoyable stay. In the bar, I also met Ollie from Austria and a group of Quebecois girls. We had dinner together at the hostel, which is known for offering the best food in town.
Afterwards, while hanging in the bar, I met an interesting local carrying around a chicken in a fancily decorated wooden box. Curious, I asked about the chicken, and he took it out and let me hold it. It was the most beautiful chicken I’d ever seen, shiny black feathers and immaculately groomed. Turns out he was raising it for cockfighting. LOL, ok that makes sense. It reminded me of Little Jerry Seinfeld.
The next morning I rented a dirt bike for the day. Having read and been inspired by Zen and the Art of Motorcycle and Maintenance, plus seeing movies like The Motorcycle Diaries and Easy Rider, plus having met many travelers touring Latin America on motorcycle, plus the general badass-ness of motorcycles, the idea of motorcycle touring had been brewing in my head. The problem was I’d never ridden a motorcycle even though I had wanted to learn for years. The time had come.
The rental company took me to an old, abandoned (except for two horses grazing) baseball field. I got a 10-minute tutorial on how to operate the bike, mainly focusing on using the manual transmission, then I was let loose on the baseball field. I had a few erratic starts getting going in first gear and killed the engine a few times, but I picked it up pretty quickly. After about 10 minutes of practice, they let me go. Wheee!
My ride was a 125cc Yamaha dirt bike. It was about a year old with 11,000km on it. I called her Betty. Black Betty. She wasn’t the biggest, wasn’t the fastest, wasn’t the sexiest, but she was mine. I had her for 24 hours. I set off at about 10am and headed southeast from Moyogalpa. Outside the city, I had to see what Betty was capable of. I put her in fourth gear and took her up to about 80km/hr (only about 50mph), but at that speed she was laboring and the oncoming wind and tiny pieces of gravel (and bugs) that hit me in the face were too much. On the main roads, I generally cruised between 50 and 60 km/hr. However, only about a third of the roads encircling Ometepe are paved. For the rest of the journey, I was generally in second gear, bumping about over dirt, sand, roots, mud, and rocks.
At about noon, I stopped at Ojo de Agua, and spring-fed pool and popular tourist spot. I spent about 45 minutes there, swimming in the beautiful pool. The mineral rich water felt amazing, silky even, on the skin. It was a nice cool off after cruising 1.5hours on the bike.
Later, I stopped for lunch and coffee at Playa Santo Domingo. This is the most popular beach on Ometepe, but the wind was roaring and the skies overcast, so it wasn’t the most pleasant day for the beach.
I rode all the way around Volcan Maderas, stopping for a few beers along the way. The beautiful part about a dirt bike is that you can ride it anywhere. A few times, I passed by a little path or dried up riverbed leading towards the lake, and decided to take a ride down the path and see where it goes. I was rewarded by finding a couple beautiful, isolated spots to have a rest lakeside. One time though, I wound up on private property and got a weird look from a farmer, so turned around and rode off.
I briefly stopped in Santa Cruz and Altagracia, before racing back to Moyogalpa as the sun was setting. The front light wasn’t working on my bike, so I didn’t want to ride in the dark. I got held up a few times as the cows were literally coming home.
I arrived back at my hostel at about 5:45pm, for almost 8 hours of touring on the dirt bike. What a day. This might’ve been the most fun I’ve had so far on my trip. The day had almost everything I covet: adventure, learning, freedom, fun, an element of danger, thrills, relaxation. All it was missing was hot sex, but I guess you could say Betty and I made sweet love.
Back at the hostel I jaunted into the bar still feeling the reverberations from the bike. I had a couple beers with Ollie and Tim from England before showering up. We all had dinner together at the hostel, then a few more drinks and games of cards before I retired, weary from the road.
The next morning, I awoke and took Betty to fill the gas tank before returning it. On the way to the rental shop, I said, “Fuck it, I’m not ready to part way just yet,” and rented it for another half day.
After a hearty breakfast, I took off. I had no plan in mind, just to ride and see the island more.
I heard there was a secluded waterfall I could hike to in San Ramon, so I headed there in the afternoon. Unfortunately, I arrived at 2:30pm and they don’t let anyone hike up to the waterfall after 2pm since it’s a 2-3hour round trip. Boooo!
Instead, I found a nearby dock to enjoy the scenery and go for a quick dip.
I took the bike back north and rode around the north side of Volcan Concepcion. The terrain at parts of the path was challenging. At one point, I killed the engine after not downshifting properly while going up a steep hill of loose sand and rock. When my momentum stopped dead, the earth beneath me started to move and I began to landslide backwards down the hill. Luckily, with brake engaged, the front wheel caught on some stones and I was able to quickly restart and get traction to prod upward in first gear.
At another point, in the middle of nowhere, I encountered three kids of about 10 holding a rope tied to a tree at about my chest height across the path. I stopped and asked what was up, and the leader of the three said it was a $10 ‘tarifa’ to pass. I told him I didn’t have it and then we went back and forth on price. The leader was serious while haggling, but the two friends were animated and laughing at his audacity. He thought he snagged a chele rube in his trap. I played along, but wasn’t going to be extorted. The whole thing was quite funny. I wound up giving them 20 Cordoba each, which they were excited to receive, and told them to “Compre algo dulce.”
Later, I stopped to watch a Saturday afternoon baseball game. Baseball is a big deal in Nicaragua. I see people playing baseball as much as soccer, which is really saying something since soccer only requires a ball to play.
I again made my way home as the cows were coming home, and the sun was setting. I was almost at my hostel, riding in the twilight on a paved street at about 60km/h when an 80lb pig ran out in front of me. Through some grace of Providence, I was able to brake and swerve as the pig simultaneously did a juke move to narrowly evade collision. Otherwise, I would’ve had a bad accident and killed the pig. Phew.
At 6pm I said goodbye and turned in Betty. We had a great two day honeymoon together, and I was sad to part ways. Riding a dirt bike was fun as hell, and now I’ll be sure to rent a motorcycle anywhere I go that offers it. It’s an awesome way to get around and experience a new place.
That night I had dinner again with Ollie, Tim, and a German couple. Afterwards, we climbed a lookout tower in the back of the hostel to look at the stars.
The next morning, I moved to the nearby Soma Hostel. I couldn’t take another night on the crappy mattresses at Life is Good Hostel.
It was Sunday. I was preparing to play a Sunday poker session, but couldn’t log into my poker account. I had requested a large payout earlier in the week and it was approved. I called the site, and received some unfortunate news. They were disabling my account because I had been playing outside of the US for more than 6 months which violated their terms of service. They found this out when examining my login history during a review of my account after my big wins and payout. They would let me cash out my account balance, but I would be unable to play until returning to the US and a verification process. Wow. I was shocked. I had no idea it was against their TOS to play while abroad. I was riding high after the good results of the past three Sundays of poker, but this took the wind out of my sails.
I now had to start over building my bankroll on another poker site. Bankroll determines the stakes of poker I can play and therefore the amounts to be won. With no bankroll my earning power was greatly reduced.
I had a couple hundred bucks on a different poker site, America’s Cardroom. I grinded small stakes tournaments all day, and actually won a $5 buy-in tournament with some 400 players to win about $400 and effectively double my bankroll. That’s a start!
The next day, after a leisurely breakfast and yoga in the yard, I took a mototaxi to Charco Verde, a nature reserve on the coast of Ometepe between the two Volcanos.
On the grounds of Charco Verde, there is also a butterfly and orchid sanctuary. I started by visiting the butterfly garden. Throughout my travels, I have been seeing tons of butterflies. They seem to flutter past me at the most poignant moments. I mentioned this to Ann in San Marcos, and she told me butterflies signify personal transition and evolution—pretty much the theme of my trip.
It was kind of cool walking through the garden with butterflies constantly flapping around you. I spent a while being a naturalist and observing the behaviors of the different types of butterflies. There were supposed to be the elusive Blue Morpho butterflies in the sanctuary, but I wasn’t able to encounter any. Elusive indeed.
Then I went hiking, stopping at a couple of ponds and lookouts.
After hiking, I fancied a swim and found my way to the beach of Charco Verde. It is a small but lovely beach with trees growing outward from the shore over the lake, providing a nice mix of sun and shade. I approached the beach to find it empty except five attractive girls sunbathing. It was like heaven. I wish I could say this led to a porno-like beachside orgy, but I only chatted with them briefly and instead just went swimming and read for a couple of hours.
Later, I found a bunch of spider monkeys goofing around in the trees.
In the dusk, I tried to take the bus back to Moyogalpa, but it never came. Third world problems. After waiting more than an hour, I had to take a taxi back to my hostel. There I found a group of people having beers, and I joined in. Later we ordered pizza while continuing to drink and playing Cards Against Humanity.
The next morning, it was time to depart Isla Ometepe. I packed up and then had breakfast with Luka (Holland), Nina (France), and Jerome (Quebec), who I had hung out with the previous night were also leaving that morning. We all walked to the ferry together, and were glad to see it was running on schedule and relatively calm waters.
We boarded at 9am, and were in San Jorge by 10. We all shared a taxi into Rivas, and said goodbye at the bus station as they were heading north while I was going south. My bus to San Juan del Sur was not departing until 12:30, a two hour wait. I looked around for a shuttle, but instead found a taxi driver who was willing to take me there for $10. After a 40-minute ride, I was back in the sunny confines of a Pacific beach town.
My trip to Ometepe was one of the few times not having a guidebook bit me in the ass. I later learned that there are a few eco-communities and permaculture farms on Ometepe—just the types of places I would have liked to visit and even volunteer at. They are low key and somewhat out of the way, so I missed them. Oh well, next time.
All it was missing was hot sex, but I guess you could say Betty and I made sweet love.
Excellent diction my friend!!