Panama: Our Furthest South

After finishing our tour in Costa Rica we spent a few more days in the capital, San Jose. Having just booked our return voyage home through Strand Travel, we needed to complete some paperwork. Getting all the necessary forms together for Container Ship travel was hard enough back in London. But out here it necessitated numerous trips between internet cafes - some had printers but no scanner, others a scanner but no printer. On top of which we needed a form signed by our doctors.

Last time, our regular doctors surgery in London took three weeks to sign the medical certificate to say we were fit to travel - and that was with us chasing them regularly. We didn't fancy our chances of waiting on them to complete and email the forms in a shorter turn around, so instead we set out to find a doctor nearby in San Jose. After entering a few private practices to be told the doctor was out, we did eventually find one at home. A Gynecologist. You can imagine my nerves being sat in the waiting room.

The receptionist showed us into a large room, behind which sat our doctor, a huge man with (I couldn't help but notice) the chunkiest fingers I've ever seen. I've never had to visit a Gynecologist before, but I mentioned to Gemma that in the unlikely event that I would need to in the future, I'd enquire about the size of their fingers first! Fortunately, a practical was not necessary. Did we have yellow fever, dengue fever, malaria? No. Form signed, and $80 lighter than when we entered, we had finished our paperwork.

The good news is that we will be returning to Europe by boat, leaving from Moin, Costa Rica on 2nd February, and scheduled to arrive in Algeciras, Spain about 15 days later. Our new ship is called the MV Bonavia (Details at Marine Traffic), a Liberian registered vessel quite a lot smaller than the MV Hanjin Miami. And quite a lot more expensive it must be said. In part this is down to the fact that the trip is 3 days longer than our previous voyage, and in part because we will get two stops - in the Dominican Republic and Martinique. We are both delighted to know that we will be returning by ship, and will have travelled around the globe without flying.

Once our documentation had been submitted, and our hefty bill paid, we decided to head down to Panama. We booked our Tica bus seats on the overnight drive and set off at 1pm. We arrived at the border in the early evening, but it took nearly 3 hours to get through customs on both sides, so we arrived in Panama City at 5am the following day. Normally arriving at a new bus station in the dark can be a painful process, but the Albrook bus station was a huge, clean, modern building with a line of waiting taxis (normally the drivers are hussling, crowding, even grabbing you).

 

We jumped into one and set off for our hostel. The drive across town was a real eye opener, Panama City is a huge, sprawling modern town with the biggest sky scrapers we have seen since leaving the US, some apartments and others office buildings with names like Citibank and HSBC. Even the road network was impressive, huge fly overs and causeways built over the ocean. Of course, good roads do not necessarily mean good driving, but that's true anywhere in the world!

Arriving at the hostel at 6am, the owners allowed us to go straight to our room and crash out, so we didn't wake up properly until the afternoon. People have often commented to us that catching the night-bus is a good prospect because you save on a nights accomodation, which is true to a degree. But it is rarely a good nights sleep, and there are often stops which necessitate waking up - borders and police checks are common in Central America. Which in turn means that you tend to waste the first day in a new city, catching up on sleep.

We did manage to wander down to the nearby ruins in Panama Viejo later that day. There are a surprising amount of foundations still visible, despite being left unloved and open to the elements in the 340 years since Welshman Henry Morgan plundered the town. Apparently old Panama was a wealthy transport hub on the route to Europe for the Peruvian gold, which made it a focus of pirate interest. Despite sacking the city Morgan is probably less famous here than another old British rogue, Sir Francis Drake, who was allegedly buried off the coast of Portobello on the Caribbean side of panama - divers continue to flock here in search of the lead coffin in which his body supposedly resides.

We had only been admiring the ruins for a few minutes when a policeman on a bicycle peddaled over to us and warned us, in a curious mix of English and Spanish (Spanglish?) that the slums behind the ruins were just about the worst part of panama for us to be in. He told us to head down to the visitor centre instead, so we braved the afternoon sun and strolled away from the better ruins. By the time we reached the office, it was quarter to five, so we decided not to pay for 15 minutes. Instead, freshly concerned about walking back through the slum we caught a taxi.

The next day we caught a taxi to the Panama Canal, specifically to Miraflores Lock, one of three such locks along the 80km of canal, which stretches from the Caribbean sea to the Pacific. This particular lock is the closest to downtown Panama City, hence the most regularly visited, which is why they have built a large visitor centre, complete with a balcony with football stadium style seating. Just try getting a seat! It was packed when we arrived in the early afternoon, so we stood staring into the blisteringly hot sun to await the arrival of a ship.

We didn't have too long to wait, a small catamaran moved into position, followed by a tug, then a large cruise ship and finally a sizeable cargo ship edged down the second channel. We watched as the water level dropped, allowing the ships to move between the locks before heading the short distance out towards the Pacific Ocean. Actually I found it a bit underwhelming, here was one of mankind's greatest engineering efforts, yet it was neither as dramatic as the Corinth canal, nor as beautiful as any one of a number of small locks in the English countryside.

Back inside the air-conditioned visitor centre (it was approaching 40 outside) we had a brief look around. The movie room took it in turns to show Spanish and English versions of a film about the construction of the canal, but we had just missed the version we might understand. Instead we had a stroll through the small museum, with it's collections of artefacts from the construction. It was quite nicely presented, and the aquarium showed us all the creatures which lived in the canal - namely dark, dirty looking fish. Apparently the ships have to pay for passage through the canal based on weight, and in 1928 one man was charged 36 cents for the right to swim through. I don't know if I'd fancy trying the same today, the water looked distinctly murky with a layer of covering oil.

After seeing the canal we felt we'd do some shopping the next day, I needed an extra bag to carry all the bits we've picked up on route, and we needed to find Gemma a birthday present. We asked at the hostel, who directed us to a mall in the city. The taxi driver dropped us off at the entrance and I nearly fell to my knees and wept - the first two shops were Cartier and Louis Vitton. And from there it got worse, Armani, Versace, Rolex, Omega, all the luxury brands had a presence here. When Gemma had said she wanted a watch, I hadn't envisioned we'd be looking for something that would cost us more than our entire trip!

We had a brief look around, but there was no chance of us buying anything other than a drink in the food court. Instead we went to a different mall on the outskirts of town called Los Pueblos. This was were the people shopped, here we were able to pick up a bag, a watch, and some t-shirts for a few dollars each, far more like a backpacking budget!

After a few days of doing nothing except trying to find some relief from the relentless heat and humidity, we decided to return to Costa Rica. Gemma did take a train along the length of the canal one day, but she'll explain that in more detail later. We headed back to the bus station at 11pm one evening for our return trip on the Tica bus. The ride was as bumpy and twisting as before, and we were woken several times before we reached the border at 6am. Being the first time we had driven north in central America, we watched as sniffer dogs checked our bags thoroughly in both sides of the border. The second time the dog took a liking to my bag and I was hauled out to have it checked, but the strongest drug they found were several packets of Costa Rican coffee!

We eventually returned to San Jose at 4 in the afternoon, and walked the short distance to our hostel, to the dismay (and annoyance) of several taxi drivers. This being our third time in Costa Rica's capital, we resolved to do some of the things we had kept putting off, so the following morning we caught a bus downtown and found the Museo del Oro Precolombino (Precolombian Gold). The entrance price was a little steep, but there appeared to be several different exhibits, so we forked out $11 each and stepped inside.

Heading down stairs, you are obliged step walk through huge vault style doors to where the gold is kept. Inside is one of the best presented museums we have seen in Central America. The displays were well set up, with thought going to the presentation, especially lighting. But it's no wonder the curators have made such an effort, because they are the guardians of a wonderful collection of treasures. Little golden figures of humans and animals of all shapes and sizes, incredibly detailed and beautiful, these Precolombian people were true artisans.

I was particularly impressed by the sheer range of creatures, from the almost compulsory worship of jaguars through to the unlikely representations of a lobster or a crab. The museum also contained exhibits of the homes these people lived in, through to little models showing how they lived their daily lives. There was also a movie room which showed a video concerning how they created the gold.If you are ever in San Jose, this is a must see attraction.

The other thing we wanted to see was an Orchid garden called Jardin Botanico Lankester, about 25km outside of San Jose. We took a taxi to a bus station (there are over 20 here, so you have to know which one you want to go to before setting off), and caught a local bus to Cartago for $1. In Cartago we jumped in another taxi, and we were soon at the gardens to which Gemma has a family connection.

Charles H Lankester moved out to Costa Rica to farm coffee in the 1940's, and in his spare time cultivated his passion for orchids, which grew perfectly in this climate. When he passed away, his gardens were left to the care of the University of Costa Rica and the American Orchid Society, and survive to this day. The same Charles H Lankester was the second cousin, twice removed of David, Gemma's Dad.

Unfortunately having a family connection didn't save us from the entrance fee, so we headed inside to see what the Gardens looked like. The first area was dedicated to the Orchids, and they had a huge range. Most of them weren't in bloom (wrong time of year) but those that were looked stunning. We spent a long time admiring (and photographing) them inside the greenhouses.

They also had several other areas dedicated to different plants, including bromeliads, cacti, and a slightly disheveled Japanese Garden, so we spent an hour wandering around the pleasant paths, before returning to the reception. Gemma tried to get some information about Mr Lankester, but besides a few photographs inside the staff offices they didn't know a great deal, so we walked back down a dusty road in the afternoon heat to begin our return to San Jose.

In the next few days we will be heading down to the Caribbean coast for some sun and sea, and we'll be anxiously waiting the call from the Port Agent in Moin informing us of the embarcation procedure, but all being well we should set off on the 2nd February and expect to arrive in Spain 15 days later. Until then!

Costa Rica: La Pura Vida

We caught the ever reliable Tica bus from Granada to San Jose. The changes as we left Nicaragua and entered Costa Rica were startling. Within half an hour we had spotted a huge shopping mall, several well known Western fast food chains, and an abundance of new or nearly new cars parked in the lots. Advertisements for world brands littered the roadside, plastered onto modern offices and apartments. But it wasn't just the obvious appearance of wealth which struck me, in fact the whole country basked in a green glow from the sheer number of trees and plants. Costa Rica is clearly rich in finance as well as nature.

Arriving in San Jose, we made our way by taxi to a hotel, our first once since leaving Belize. Checking into our room was almost overwhelming, a huge expanse of luxury on the sixth floor with a view across the city. Two huge double beds covered in pillows and cushions, a large flatscreen tv, and best of all a hot water shower! We hardly managed to leave the room for a few days - except to re-familiarise ourselves with a Taco Bell. We did manage a walk in a nearby park, and a short stop at the art museum (housed in the beautiful former airport terminal). Otherwise our time was spent catching up on a few chores - finding a laundrette and an internet cafe from which to book up our journey home.

After having a relaxing few days to ourselves, we met up with our tour group. Instead of a welcome meeting we had a one hour Spanish Language lesson. Initially we were skeptical of it's usefulness, everyone else had no Spanish and by this time we had been using ours with some success - but we had to admit that it was interesting to hear the difference in pronunciation between Costa Rica and Guatemala - for example they really hit the "J" pronunciation in the word "llamo"much harder the we had been taught.

The following morning the group set off for Sarapiqi. It was great not having to worry about how we got from A to B for a change, we were able to sit in the minibus and chat to our fellow guests, an eclectic mix of people; Rob from north London; Muniza from Toronto; Mayu from Yokohama; and Sally and Meg from Austin, Texas. On route we were stopped by a police checkpoint, the smiling officer cheerfully inspected our passports and wished us a pleasant stay in Costa Rica. Another contrast to the surly officials we have met in the last few countries.

After throwing our bags behind the reception we made our way to La Selva, an ecological research station in the lowlands of the North East, a place where scientists from around the world gather to collect data on the wildlife of Costa Rica's rainforests. It's easy to see why they chose this place, within a 2 minute walk of the reception we came across a huge iguana sitting in a tree, several bats sleeping under a branch, whilst a curious howler monkey followed us across the entrance bridge.

We spent a pleasant couple of hours walking around the site, being shown around by a knowledgeable guide who pointed out plenty of things we might have missed, although we didn't need any help spotting the peccary which stumbled across our trail. Because of the research credentials of La Selva we were told that an incredible 250 scientific papers are published each year from data collected here.

We returned to our hotel for the evening and began to inspect the our lodgings. Located on the edge of the jungle, Hacienda Pozo Azul consisted of a number tents scattered around a bamboo lounge area. Clearly attempting the "hidden jungle retreat", they fell slightly wide of the mark - I could see a concrete basketball court through the gaps in the foliage.

But, it was still an interesting place to spend a few nights. One afternoon an ant-eater was seen in a tree just above one of the tents, and that night we discovered a bright yellow and black frog in our bathroom. Having just had a lecture about frogs, and being acquainted with the concept of the poison dart, we called reception. Fortunately the security guard advised us our little lodger wasn't dangerous!

The next day, after wandering through some jungle trails by ourselves, we were taken to visit a chocolate farm (I can hear the murmers of jealousy from here - and I have to tell you it WAS that good). After crossing a disturbingly high and wobbly bridge, we hiked through the forest to the chocolate trees! Here we were given an interesting demonstration of the making of both hot chocolate and chocolate bars, along with a potted history of the cacao tree.

I could tell you some interesting facts about the history of chocolate now, but what you really want to know is how did it taste, right? Well, the answer is "delicious". I'm not really one to moan about the merits of a mass produced chocolate bar against a supposedly "premium" brand, but I can assure you neither comes close to the taste of chocolate which has just been made in front of your eyes. Fortunately this was a "practical" lesson! The smell alone was enough to make my mouth water. Rather amusingly, Gemma asked the chef if he liked chocolate, his reply was negative.

On the walk back to the bridge we also spotted another ant-eater, this time carrying her baby on her back (I'm proud to say I was the spotter in this case). So the walk back took twice as long, stopping for photos and my knees knocking as we re-crossed the bridge. As we waited for our bus we were kindly given a small bag of fermented seeds, so we'll be able to try making our own chocolate on our return.

The following day we moved on to La Fortuna, a town situated in the shadow of Volcan Arenal (one of the worlds top 20 most active volcanos). Our first port of call was the home of a lady called Doña Mara, for a lesson in making tortillas. Once we were all gathered around the work surface, Doña Mara showed us how to mix the ground corn with water, salt and (surprisingly) grated cheese. Now we had a huge bowl of dough, the real fun began.

Taking a clump of the dough we made small balls, which were placed onto a plastic mat on the work surface and then gently patted down into a tortilla shape (some more successfully than others) before being thrown onto a large frying pan and fried for 2 minutes on either side. We were then allowed to eat the fruits of our admittedly small labour. Accompanied by soured cream, beans and cheese, these warm tortillas made a delicious snack. Fortunately the kind lady had also prepared a meal for us, a chicken stew with rice, accompanied by roasted yucca. After the fast food experience of San Jose, Doña Mara's homecooked lunch was perfect.

After such a delicious meal we retired to our new hotel, the Mountain Paradise. What a contrast to our lodgings of the last few months. Not only did we have a hot tub on the patio (looking out towards a view of the Volcano, but a choice of two hot showers (one a traditional power shower, the other a themed waterfall). To top it off we had a bed bigger than some of the rooms we had previously stayed in, and a towel folded into the shape of an elephant. Apparently it takes months to get used to hostelling, but minutes to get used to luxury!

In the evening we paid a visit to one of La Fortuna's famed hot springs. Our guide had chosen the Baldi Location, an expensive top end site. The natural springs had been twisted and turned, with the aid of many props, to resemble something you might find in any expensive hotel around the world, which I felt was something of a shame. Where I had been hoping for a natural experience, everything felt too "planned". Still, Gemma enjoyed exploring the different pools and water slides, whilst I lounged around, enjoying spot of my favourite hobby, moaning to myself.

The following day we had some free time, so we caught the bus into town. La Fortuna is a small place, and besides the numerous gift shops there wasn't a great deal to explore. So we made the best of it by grabbing some lunch in a popular Soda (small restaurant) then returning to the hotel to enjoy our hot tub, air conditioning and live Premier League.

Our next stop was Monteverde, a town settled by Quakers from the US in the fifties (when they fled the draft for the Korean War). To get there we were bussed to Lake Arenal, and sailed across in a private boat. The view of the volcano completely changed. Where it had lush green slopes on the La Fortuna side, it now had a dismal gray ashen tone, the result of an eruption some years ago. The lake was also a haven for birds, our guide Danny spotted several which he proudly identified for us.

Continuing by bus uphill, we made a brief stop when we saw a sloth clutching the branches of a tree, and another when we saw a cow riding a horse, and arrived in Monteverde early in the afternoon. The town wasn't quite the mountain paradise I had been imagining, there were plenty of ugly modern buildings. Meg, who had been here 15 years previously commented upon the transition from colourful wooden buildings to what we now saw, a beautiful natural spot populated by bright plastic and glass facades full of posters promising the greatest adventure sports "ever".

Later that day we took a tour of a coffee farm. The guide took us through the process of growing and producing coffee, along with the processing of sugar cane. Apparently the Costa Rican government banned the cultivation of all coffee except Arabica, which probably explains why I am drinking so much of the stuff here. We keep hearing that all the best produce is exported, but I've never enjoyed coffee with so much flavour. Interestingly, it had never occurred to me that coffee was native to Africa, while Cacao indigenous to Central America. In modern times the two continents have made a swap, and Africa now produces more chocolate whilst Central America more coffee.

After our tour, I was dropped off at the local Serpentarium, Gemma opted to miss this one and carried on back to the hotel. Inside I marvelled at the collection of exotic snakes, with one in particular catching my eye. Neither the most beautiful, nor the biggest, the Terciopelo (more commonly known as the fer de lance) is responsible for 46% of all snake bits in Costa Rica. This is hardly surprising given it's apparent prevalence near human habitations, along with it's recorded irritability, speed, and unpredictability. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on your preference, I didn't manage to get a good photo of it!

The next day we were taken to a reserve in the Cloud Forest a short, bumpy drive from Monteverde. I considered calling trading standards, because we didn't see a single cloud! So effectively it was another pleasant walk in a forest. We didn't see a huge amount of wildlife, apart from a rather shy sloth, so the guide brought our attention to the plants of the forest. If I'm completely honest, I find it hard to get as excited about a tree as I do a wild animal, and palms and ferns were hardly new to us in Costa Rica, let alone Central America.

The guide did his best, but I think a few of us were feeling a little underwhelmed, and combined with the altitude, the effect was to render me a little morose. The afternoon was earmarked for adventure sports, which for Gemma and several others involved zip-lining in the forest canopy, whilst for me I had planned a swim in the pool. That didn't go to plan, as my head hit the pillow and I fell asleep. Gemma had a great time playing Tarzan, but I will let her tell her story on her next blog update.

The following morning, the last full day of our tour, we drove out to the Pacific coast, to a town called Jaco. Jaco is a disappointingly ugly town, with a long beach which appears unloved and dirty. The tourist industry appears well developed, alongside the sort of hotels which litter the coastline of benidorm there was a collection of the detritus which "progress" washes up on too many beaches, mainly in the form of plastic.

Whilst some of the group went for a paddle, we wandered into town and found a cheap local restaurant to eat at. I've previously mentioned the Soda's, they are a good way to eat inexpensively in Costa Rica, although the fare can sometimes be a little inconsistent. They are usually not much to look at, but appearances can be deceptive, We discovered a better one, and after lunch strolled around town trying to avoid the touts and hawkers.

The drive to San Jose took us over a large river. The bus stopped and we were told to walk across, with our cameras. We followed Danny's instructions and were treated to the sight of around 20 large crocodiles lazing in shadow of the bridge. It was an awesome sight, and while snapping away merrily with our cameras, none of us thought to ask why these territorial wild animals congregated here. It turns out a local man comes along to feed them so they cast aside their differences for a regular meal, which I found slightly disappointing. Although I'd be willing to bet the local fish hold a contrary position.

We arrived back in San Jose, 8 days after we had set off with a great deal of respect for the natural wonders that Costa Rica offers, mixed in with a slight disdain for the direction that progress appears to be taking. Costa Rica is a beautiful and varied country, from the Caribbean lowlands to the volcanic highlands, full of amazing sights and enjoyable activities. But as with all edens, care needs to be taken to ensure that what attracts the visitors does not become that which keeps them away. Just by one example, we were told by several people that we were lucky to have seen so many wild ant-eaters. Apparently even now it is more common to see them dead by the roadside. The roads which everyone, us included, travels on to see the sights are guilty of causing the deaths of what we came to see.

It is not uncommon to see "eco" added before the name of a hotel or attraction, but when you step inside you discover huge great plazas of concrete or rubbish strewn around the ground. There are people here who are aware of the impact this might have, but whether they are able to influence the policy makers remains to be seen. Given the tone of previous blogs throughout central America, it might sound like I am being overly harsh on Costa Rica, and I'd have to agree with that. I didn't really go into the effect of humans in other countries through which we have travelled.

I'd suggest this is probably for two reasons. Firstly Costa Rica is evidently fiscally better off than anywhere we have been since Mexico. By way of comparison, GDP expressed per Capita in Costa Rica is over $10,000 per annum - compared to $5000 in Guatemala, $2500 in Nicaragua and $1500 in Honduras. Maybe this doesn't mean they have any more or less responsibility to the environment than anywhere else, we all have to live here so we should all share the same level. But I do think that financial wellbeing ought to make it easier to implement strategies that can lessen our impact on mother nature. We did briefly visit a recycling centre in La Fortuna, which is a promising start, but they need a great deal of support just to cover their area. In other areas the rubbish overflows from unemptied bins.

The second reason I think I am being critical is that I absolutely loved Costa Rica. From a wildlife perspective, it is second only to east Africa in my list of places to spot animals. There are so many beautiful creatures here that it seems such a shame to have to risk squashing them under a 4x4, or altering their natural behaviours for our own enjoyment. I'd like to think that future generations will be able to come here and stare giddily up a tree as a mother ant-eater carries her baby through the branches, rather than have to look in a book to see what it "used" to look like.

And my critical thought doesn't end there, it extends to my own actions too. The next time someone dangles a crocodile in front of my lens I'm going to ask how it got there. The next time I check in to a hostel and discover a caged parrot or toucan I will check straight out. I'm definitely going to make more of an effort to consider my own personal impact, and how I can go about making a positive change.

Honduras and Nicaragua: Gemma's Thoughts

Our first stop in Honduras was Copan Ruinas, a small, scruffy town that is just over the border from Guatemala, and our last stop on our Mayan tour. Although we felt a little on edge, the town seemed quiet and sleepy, and there was very little hassle which made a nice change. After crossing the border in the dark we arrived at our hostel and settled into a large, comfy room. We took a short stroll but opted to eat at the restaurant opposite the hostel. I always feel a little uncomfortable arriving somewhere after sunset and much prefer to get my bearings in the daylight hours.

 

I was surprised how similar Honduras is to Guatemala, maybe this is because we are only just over the border or maybe it is because much of Latin America feels quite similar, and we are still in Mayan territory. After a whistle-stop tour of Copan and the ruins, which were the most ornate so far, we set off for our overnight stop in the city and planned to leave Honduras the next day.

Honduras has been my least favourite country, but perhaps I'm being a little unfair. Both of us are homesick, which doesn't help but it is also a slightly smaller, less interesting version of where we have spent the last six weeks - maybe if we had come hear first then I would speak more highly of it.

With Christmas coming we tried to make plans but timings worked against us. Buses were already full and skirting through the country quickly soon became impossible. We got stuck in San Pedro Sula, the second largest city in Honduras, for three nights instead of one. It is fairly dangerous there, and we had little to no chance of venturing out. The hostel was fairly decent though, and as everyone else used it for a one night stop over we had a constant flow of people to share stories with.

We left on Christmas Eve via a 14 hour bus journey to Managua, the capital of Nicaragua, which is another dangerous, dirty city, an hour away from Granada - where we wanted to be. Still, being Christmas, we had made the most of it and ourselves booked into the Lonely Planet's "top pick" hotel complete with air con and pool.

But it didn't work out that way. We woke up on Christmas morning in an absolute dive, Darren close to depression and me constantly in floods of tears.Without even unpacking, we put our bags on our backs, I flagged the nearest taxi and we began making our way to the bus station. On enquiring, the taxi driver said he would take us all the way to Granada for $40. After a quick discussion that consisted of "sod it, it's Christmas!" we were bombing up the duel carriage way, windows down, sun shining, music playing and smiles on our faces.

Granada is a great place and we got lucky with the hostel - small pool, loads of space and only $20 a night! We arrived by lunchtime, so there was plenty of time for a wander. We were both starving so some nice food was a priority. We stumbled across a posh hotel just off the central park and browsed the menu. Normally the prices would have scared us away, but after another short "sod it, it's Christmas" conversation, we were sitting at a table with more than one set of cutlery each and a leather bound menu trying to decide between whiskey or blue cheese sauce for our expensive steaks! The food was fantastic! Now we had smiles on our faces and full bellies. It was a happy Christmas after all!

Wandering back through the square the heavens opened and we ran for cover where we bumped into a couple we had met in Honduras. We arranged to go out for dinner with them the following day.

Nicaragua was turning out to be fun, a lovely place with lots of people to talk to and nice places to stay. It was unfortunate that we missed a lot of it. I wanted to see Leon, another colonial town, but the man selling the bus tickets told us it didn't go there (it did, and lots of people got off) and I also wanted to go to Ometepe, a volcanic island in a huge lake with beautiful waterfalls and rock pools to swim in, but the buses were mostly full so we had to miss it out in order to be in Costa Rica in time for the start of our tour (four days early!)

We did spend a couple of days at a crater lake called Apoyo which was beautiful. Stunning scenery, clear water and a little beach. The hostel there had a large balcony which over looked the lake with palm trees framing the view perfectly. It was like something from the movies! We spent our time relaxing by the water swinging in hammocks and I ventured out in a kayak for a better view. There were a few expensive looking villas with sailing boats moored outside that were only visible from the lake which wouldn't have been out of place in a James Bond film, but apart from that, we were on our own! Truly a piece of untouched paradise.

The Festive Season in Nicaragua

We stayed in San Pedro Sula for 3 nights, awaiting our connecting bus. We went out a couple of times in the day, but in the evenings everyone generally stayed put inside the hostel. There was a good atmosphere amongst the guests but everyone felt it was like being inside prison, the high barbed wire fences and security cameras hinting at troubles outside. Even the guests who had spent longer than us in Honduras said they felt particularly unsafe in San Pedro. 

Although the final day dragged on, we did eventually get some sleep, only to be woken at 3.30am to be ready for the taxi. Given the high prices, we crammed four of us into a small car for the short drive to the bus station. San Pedro, unlike many Central American cities, has built a large bus station for all the different operators, making it something of a transport hub for the region. By 4.15am we had checked in and awaited our bus. Unfortunately the huge food forecourt was completely shut, so we couldn't pick up a coffee or water to pass the time. 

The bus set off at 5am, remarkably on time for a change, and soon we were speeding down the dual carriageway towards the capital city, Tegucigalpa. We both fell back asleep, although the rattling window kept waking Gemma while a pair of knees in my spine prevented me from getting a good rest. At 9am were were in the capital, and took the opportunity to stretch our legs and grab a cold drink. We didn't wander far, Tegucigalpa didn't appear to be much of an improvement on San Pedro. 

The only highlight came when we spotted the airport, purely because we had seen a documentary about the worlds 10 most dangerous airports which featured a large segment on the difficulties of landing here. Apparently pilots have to undergo specialist training to land here, and we can see why! The approach is between mountains and requires a steep banking manoeuvre despite fluctuating cross-winds, whilst the end of the runway involved a drop, a motorway and the city!

We eventually hit the border at midday. The conductor, an unusually large muscular man for this area, collected everyone's passports and the $15 fee from tourists. We waited outside the bus for his return but were glad to get back onto the air conditioned vehicle 20 minutes later. Unfortunately it didn't last long, we had to get back off on the Nicaraguan side for a baggage check. When we returned to the bus the burly conductor was waiting with an immigration official and our passports. 

We reboarded and everyone began flicking through their passports to see the new stamp. Unfortunately they hadn't stamped inside, just on a border fee receipt, which stated we had paid the $10 border fee. And that really sums up the issue I have with Central America, there are very few people you can trust, it makes you suspicious of everyone you meet. I'm not the most experienced traveller, but I do compare little things to the four months I spent in Africa a few years ago. 

Africa has a reputation for graft, but in fact I'd say the situation out here is worse for your average traveller (at government level it may be different of course). In many parts of Africa that I went through you got the feeling that the people were proud that you had chosen their country and wanted to assist you, to ensure you went back with good memories. Here I feel that I can count on one hand the number of people who have demonstrated similar emotions. Often I have thought that maybe I over romanticized Africa, but travelling here has merely cemented Africa's place in my heart. 

Back on the bus we resumed the voyage to Managua. After a couple of hours we stopped outside Leon, a number of other backpackers jumped off. We hadn't realised you could get off here, with hindsight we should have grabbed our bags and jumped ship. The bus continued on to the capital of Nicaragua, Managua. When we arrived at the station the taxi drivers fought for our attention, following our guidebooks advice we dived into one for the 60 second drive to our hotel, it's a rough area.

We checked in just as the heavens opened, and dived into our room. The Lonely Planet had called this "our pick" of the places to stay in Managua, which was genuinely stunning. It was awful. We thought we had paid a bit extra to stay in a nicer hotel for Christmas, in fact we had been the victims of a cruel joke. Tired, stressed and not looking forward to Christmas day we both fell asleep, despite the fireworks going off around us, sounding more like a Somme recreation.

Whilst other people around the world were opening presents or tucking into huge festive meals, we awoke and began to check out our surroundings. The hotel hadn't improved on the first impression, and the local area looked even worse. After making use of Skype to call our families we decided to move on to Granada. We hailed a taxi, initially intending to go to a different bus station, but then decided the $40 dollar ride out of Managua would be a suitable Christmas gift to ourselves. 

The drive didn't take long, and we checked into a lovely hostel, a beautifully decorated old colonial building, Hungry, we headed out to the most expensive restaurant in town, La Gran Francia, and had a wonderful Christmas Lunch of soups, steaks and cheesecakes. Not the most festive meal ever, but after a week of stress and fear it was a great antidote. Revived, we attempted to have a walk around the beautiful town, but instead headed back to our hostel for a sleep - how festive is that! There is not a great deal I can say about a Nicaraguan Christmas, as we plodded back to the hostel the main square was empty. The only thing that struck us as being any different from other days was the temporary respite from home made firecrackers.

Granada really improved our moods, it felt much safer than anywhere we had been since leaving Guatemala. We visited an old museum, a beautiful church with art and ancient relics, and met up with some friends for dinner one night. After a few days we took a minivan out to Laguna de Apoyo, a lake and nature reserve about half an hour from Granada. We checked into a waterfront hostel and spent a few days relaxing in hammocks, paddling on the lake in Kayaks, and watching out for the local fauna who paid the occasional visit. Apparently 2 days before we arrived they found a tarantula exploring the dorm room. 

We returned to Granada for New Years eve. The hostel relaxed their 11pm lights out policy for one night, but most of the guests celebrated at the time of their home country judging by the cheers coming from anyone near a computer. We treated ourselves to another fancy meal, at the Gran Francia - did I mention they do fantastic steaks? 

We had a couple more days to look around, but by now we had worked out which were the restaurants to avoid, and had seen most of the towns attractions. We planned to catch a boat to Isla de Omotepe, an island formed between two volcanoes, but having wandered down to the Tica Bus station we discovered that we had to leave Nicaragua on the 3rd January, otherwise we wouldn't be able to get out until the 10th, which might have ruined our plans as we have booked a tour of Costa Rica starting on the 7th. 

We're both looking forward to the tour, it's like a holiday within a holiday. We'll be staying in hotels, travelling by private vehicle, and not having to think too much for ourselves. Normally those are the kind of ideals we try to avoid, but as tomorrow marks end of our fourth month on the road we are both going to enjoy not having to make any decisions more strenuous than choosing which drink to accompany our dinner.