Friday, February 4, 2011

Somoto Canyon-still sore two days later!

Today is Wednesday, according to my computer and my watch tells me it is 5:20pm. At the edge of my view the four faces of the town clock display 4 different times, none of which is correct.
  I arrived here (Somoto) at around 9:15am after a rather cramped, but thankfully short bus ride from Ocotal. I was able to find a hotel and check into my room, without a reservation, just shortly after 10am. Within 15 minutes I was into my room, changed and ready for a tour of the Somoto Canyon. The Canyon, some 3km long is about 100 or more feet in depth with water depths  ranging from several inches to 20 or more feet.
  The receptionist made a quick call and almost immediately a guide arrived who explained the options for the tour plus the time and endurance level needed. While a similar trip in Granada would cost in the range of $60 and require at least two people, the price was set at $20 for the 4 hour trip.
 A taxi ride brought us to the western entrance of the canyon- some 13km from town. My guide, Reynel, brought along a dry bag and two life jackets. While I did have my own dry bag, his was significantly larger than mine and was able to carry my smaller backpack, my camera and case plus my clothing which I would swap for a swim suit and tank top when we reached the base of the canyon.
 A 2km walk down a narrow rocky trail brought us to the upper (western) entrance of the canyon. Initially we scrambled over rocks on either side, occasionally wading into knee-deep water in several areas. Close to a half km in, we started getting into deeper water so Reynel loaded everything into the dry bag and we put our life jackets on. At some points the water was chest high, at others we were in water 7 to about 15 feet deep and had to swim for a hundred yards or so at a time. By this time the width of the canyon had narrowed considerably with the walls reaching 100 feet or more above the water surface.
   Scrambling onto dry rock occasionally, I was able to retrieve the camera and take photos before returning it to the safety of the dry bag. The further we got down the canyon the deeper the water and the greater the distance between dry rest stops. In some parts of the canyon we found ourselves climbing up rock faces several feet above the water. Occasionally seeking hand and foot holds, it was a close to free climbing as I wanted to get.
  Roughly ¾ of the way down the canyon a 9 foot waterfall proved to be a nerve racking “road block.”  With the aid of a rope tied to a decent size boulder, I was able to swing myself beyond the fall, releasing the rope and letting myself drop into the water some 8 feet past the waterfall. At some point during this manoeuvre my glasses took a route of their own- probably straight down to the canyon floor some 20 feet below the water surface. While I did bring an extra pair on the trip in case of any mishap, I was hoping that I wouldn’t need them.
  Luckily the most difficult parts of the journey were behind us but a few tricky steps between some fairly high boulders required that Reynel hold my hand since the bright sunlight added to the visual distortion.  The last thing I wanted to do was slip off a rock and end up bashing my head. After scrambling and swimming through a few more deep pools we reached a point where most people used the services of a rowing boat to complete the last hundred and fifty yards. While that hadn’t been in the original plans, we decided to make life easier and join a family that was taking the easy way home.

  It was a further km or so before we arrived at the man entrance gate to the canyon. With our taxi already waiting for us, Reynel paid our admission charge then we headed back to town.   
  A late lunch at a restaurant just up the street from the hotel helped replace most of the calories that I had burned off. By the time lunch was over it was close to 3pm.
  I spent the next hour and a half walking around town and of course visiting the church and strolling through the very beautiful and remarkable central park. The number and types of different plants growing there was amazing. Unlike every other park I have seen, this one did not have a bandstand. In its place was a small but decorative fountain.
 In the church, a religious festival of some type was taking place. Following a service that lasted a couple of hours, the priest led a small group of choirboys and a large following of parishioners through the streets, In the midst was a small brass band and a truck decorated with flowers and carrying three young children representing Joseph and Mary and, perhaps a shepherd. Considering the date, the significance of the whole thing was lost on me. Nor could the people at the hotel shed any light on the matter. There is a procession, which normally takes place on the 8th of every month to commemorate a day when a local shepherd experienced a “vision of the Virgin Mary” while alone in his field.
 [While many comments spring to mind, I will reserve judgement on that one!]
    Tomorrow, the plan is to continue a little further south, stopping at Esteli for at least two nights, with the hope that I can arrange a one-day tour of Miraflor and perhaps a cigar factory tour


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