Its almost 5pm- time for tea and crumpets down in the hotel’s parlour. NOT!!!!!!!!!!!
With only about 20 available rooms in the whole town- not including the ones that rent by the hour, I was left rather few choices when I got to town so I chose the one place recommended in the guide book. Clearly, regular running water is an issue in much of this town as my bathroom has a 40-gallon rain barrel and pail in the bathroom for flushing the toilet. That is going to make showering a tad difficult since it takes up most of the shower stall. I think the place has the same 100-year-old floorboards that were here when the hotel was probably a horse barn. I can’t tell if the walls are dirty or if it just the adobe that is wet under the paint- a tasteful shade of Mennonite barn green.
The sheets on the bed look clean, but I am not taking any chances, so out will come my silk sleeping bag liner for the first time this year- at least the fan works!
Backtracking- the twin turbo prop at the airport was just a tease- we flew in a single engine Cessna with 12 seats. I was the only “gringo” on the plane. While I sat, jaw open amazed the whole way, as we flew over Laguna Apoyo, Laguna Masaya, Omotepe Island and the Solentiname islands everyone else was sawing logs or reading the paper. All except the guy in the next seat over. Ever time I tried to snap a shot of a significant landmark he would start talking with his hands- so most of my scenic shots are fingers in front of an airplane window!!
The landing itself was somewhat scary [gravel runway!] The terminal was about the size of my garage. They wouldn’t let us claim our bags until the plane took off again, and we had registered our ID with the local police.
The taxi ride to town- a whole dollars worth- took about 5 minutes and I asked to be dropped off by the central square after seeing all the highlights of town, which included [pay attention-it’s a long list!] the bus station, the market and the central square.
After my grand tour of my palatial accommodations, I forked over 300 cordoba- about $14.25 and set off in search of the local opera house and museum.- yeah, right!
Walking along the Malecon, I quickly found out that I must have been the first gringo of the day as they began practising their Spanglish –“Yo, Mi amigo, my fren, jo got som spire chynge fuer me.”
“ No puedo escuchar” ( I cant hear) seems to work best- especially with a hand cupped to the ear. I usually don’t get bothered after that.
Heading over to the municipal harbour I ran into 2 guys and a girl from Toronto who were frantically trying to figure out a plan B. Their plan A was a boat trip to San Carlos from Los Chiles in Costa Rica to catch the ferry to Omotepe. Only problem was that it was 3pm and the ferry left at 2 and the next one leaves Friday! I gave them a rundown on local hotels plus the address of the lodge where I am booked tomorrow and left them to survive on their own.
Somehow I don’t think they were contestants from Survivor Nicaragua.
[With the clock rolling on for 5:20 it is probably time to put this blog to bed for a couple of hours and go check out the sunset views from the Malecon- supposedly one of the few PLUS , PLUS attractions that this dusty dump of a derelict dockyard has to offer.]
8pm
The sunset were exceedingly average- a golf ball looking a bit red in colour disappeared behind a distant island and the sky turned a slight burnt orange colour for a minute or two- THE END!!!!!! Actually, it was a bit better than that, but having seen and photographed I don’t know how many hundred, it takes a bit more than that too get me excited.
As I was walking along in the evening dusk, I noticed a couple of older teens following at a distance, the same two teens that had tried to panhandle me early. Picking up a nice jagged half-pound rock, I slipped it into my pocket- just in case!
Luckily the night passed uneventfully.
I had supper at a restaurant bar called Kaoma that overlooks the waterfront. I ordered a local fish called wapote and settled back to check my e-mail (they actually had free wireless) while the river and lake faded to blackness as night descended.
The fish, grilled whole, arrived covered in a somewhat sweet sauce laden with onions, green and red peppers, carrot sticks and braised tomatoes. Like a giant stickleback it was delicious, but more bones than meat. Like lobster and crab it was more of a job for fingers than fork so I was relieved when they brought me a finger bowl (soup bowl to be exact) with warm water and orange sections to eliminate any fish odour. As with all properly cooked fresh fish the odour was negligible but the extra service was appreciated anyway.
Returning to my room and comfortable in the fact that it wasn’t going to get broken into, I left my computer, cameras and cash and enjoyed a rather cool but pleasant walk though the main parts of town. The police seem to maintain a fairly heavy presence around here-probably due to the proximity of the Costa Rican border so I wasn’t too concerned-PLUS, I had my rock!!
Now I just have to put aside thoughts of bedbugs, centipedes, scorpions and furniture moving cockroaches and I should be fine. [I once had a cockroach crawl up my pyjama leg when I lived in Curacao some 35 years ago I still haven’t quite gotten over it]
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