Tonys Wibbles

San Carlos is a dingy little run down port. To add to its charm, at sun set the town is infested with green mosquitoesque flies so badly that all lights are turned off except those that are thickly painted in the few restaurants and bars. One year the fire brigade had to hose down the electricity lines under fear the weight of the flies would bring them down. My hotel room was completely sealed however the odd 100 flies still made it in and at 5am a stumbling drunk who managed to pick the lock. I think I shocked him as much as he scared me. He was thrown out the next day.

To make matters worse there were no boats north for several days, I checked out a few bars. It did not take long to find the reluctant ex-pat community, who were all German; a doctor, a minister, a photographer and a journalist. The doctor had arrived to cover another doctor several years ago and his replacement never arrived, he was hoping one day to get back to the island he had bought on the lake. The minister was one of two in the area traveling the many and hard to get to villages keeping up the faith. The journalist was on expenses so paid for everything...nice!

I filled one of the days on a boat trip up the river to Castillo Viajo which was a picturesque riverside village fronted by a Spanish fort made to protect the trade route from Pirates and the English. It was via a boat trip through a national park dotted with animals birds and the odd river edge village. A lot of money must have been made around here in logging as most of the forest is floating in the river ready for shipping.

Another day I filled in making jewelry for the family that run the hotel. Its amazing how many kids get adopted in this sort of situation.

Eventually the boat arrived and I set of on a 12 hour trip across to Ometepi, the larges island in the lake made from two volcanoes and ledgedly surounded by fresh water sharks. Sounds like a bond movie. The trick on these boats is to rush upstairs to grab enough bench space to sleep, while the slow ones take in the view and get floor space. This I did with no problem and entertianed myself with reading and writing while next to me a group of men played cards and drank for the whole trip.

Made it onto the island just after midnight to find out the town Altagracia was full of 80 students from Managua. They were very pretty and friendly but could not offer any accommodation. After about an hour of searching with Dan who I had met on the ferry we negotiated a ride on the back of a cabionetta to the other town on the island, Moyagalpa. By the time we got going half the passengers from the ferry were standing in the back of this small pick-up with us which was driven by a maniac. We made it there and had no trouble finding a place.

After a good nights sleep I set of in another camionetta with Dan and two girls we met in the hotel, Alyssa and Jenny, to a sister hotel in Santo Domingo, a quite beach by the other volcano. Here we met up with more travelers in the same hotel and hung out for a few days. The hotel was small, only 6 rooms, run by a friendly couple of locals. The nearest place was about half an hour walk away, so in our little group we mellowed out by walking the beach with the odd break to try formation swimming, playing cards which I won, and a few drinks.

Eventually we set of up to Granada, an old Spanish style town fronting the lake in the north and the main tourist spot of Nicaragua. After an uneventful bus, boat, bus, bus ride we raced through Granada to get to the Blue Monkey hostel before the other travelers worked out their bearings. A strange hostel full of fire dancers, topless beach bums and generally trendy, cool travelers who fitted in to Central American culture like Slim Shay in a Monastery.

I just stayed a couple of nights, hanging around my usual Hospedaje Central and meeting up with Carlos my "Cuban Miestro de artisania". I'd last seen Carlos in Managua before I moved back to Leon at the end of the previous year. I left him with a lot of my material and on bad terms. Later I had heard he had disappeared with a line of "amiga plus's" and creditors looking for him. Through the grape vine I had heard he was working in Hospedaje Central and I found him there working as general dogs body and selling jewelry in exchange for room and board. We got on OK and he seemed happy, still waiting for his passport to travel to Europe.

The day I decided to head back to Leon I met Jean my alcoholic ex-boss from Leon a.k.a. "The Monkey from Galactic City" doing business in town for his new Beach Hotel. We had lunch at a lake side restaurant while watching kids being pulled through the lake by a cow. I managed to get a lift for Dan and I back to Leon via several beer stops and some debt collecting. He offered to sell me the Hotel, I declined.

We made it in to Leon at 9pm, checked into my favourite hotel, Casa Ivana, and popped into the Taquezal bar for a night cap.

The next few days was full of reunions with people and places. Marco, a long term volunteer, and Luiza who got married when I was last here were about to move to Copenhagan so were having leaving parties. I showed Dan Payitas, the main bar in town before he headed of to Honduras. We hit the Otra Nota, a student hang out with budget live entertainment and salsa dancing, then later to the gas station for some cheap curb side drinking.

I also spent a lot of time with Olga including an over night trip to the Beach with Rafa her son in the Monkeys new hotel.

I met up with Marcelo another long term volunteer in Leon and Sussi "la flacita" who had been working for him. I found out Sussi was heading for Semana Santa in Guatemala and we made plans to head up there together.

I spent my last night in "Las Ruinas", a warehouse of a disco, said my farewells to Olga then headed to Guatemala with Sussi.

We managed to get to San Miguel in the first day after a taxi, bus, bus, bike, bus, bus, bus run. Had a quit supper and early night. We caught an early bus to San Salvador getting us there in time for a coach to Guatemala City. Things were going well until on the border, after spending a lot of time negotiating exchange rates with the cayotes, then buying cigarettes we got to watch our coach and back packs disappear into the mountains. Luckily the locals new when there was a good deal on and they ran around like flies trying to get a car for us. We could see a beautiful classic car just down the road. Lots of negotiating between the locals, and a cabionetta pulled up besides us...damn! The chase took about 10 minutes at high speed, over mountains while standing on the back of the truck. We hit a long straight and saw the coach ahead. We quickly calculated what would be good to pay as the driver pulled in front of the bus, thanked and paid him, jumped on the coach and smiled to the pasengers...Sorry.