New Years Evening

8:30pm

  It is the last day of the year and the clock is crawling slowly towards midnight.In the middle of the street a Santa Claus Piñata waits for his inevitable end.  With the Año  Nuevo still 3 hours away, our neighbours are starting to seriously crank the volume all the way to eleven!!

Smoke pours down the street from the various i.e.d’s that make up much of the evenings entertainment.

 Across the way from the hotel, a neighbour has a set (4) of speakers stacked up that would not look out of place at a Pearl Jam concert.

The evening commenced with a massive downpour, which started around 5pm and continues for a good hour and a half, settling down the dust and dropping the temperature several degrees.

 Once the deluge had ended we set off for the town centre. On the Calzada, waiters were mopping up the pools of water, wiping down chairs and setting tables outside for the evening meal

  Dinner tonight was at La Gran Francia, one of the more “deluxe” hotels bordering the Parque Central. From a balcony overlooking the street, the table offered a birds eye, or rather a bat’s eye, view of the street below. Out of the darkness the small creatures flashed by, occasionally zooming through the seating area and into the depths of the hotel.

 What might have been a perfect meal was marred by the fact that the main course was lukewarm rather than hot.

  Returning to the hotel after my meal I found myself feeling somewhat queasy and tired- too much sun or a touch of food poisoning? – so I decided to lay down and quickly drifted off to sleep.

11:40pm

  I awoke to find myself in a nightmare worthy of a Tom Waits tune. Smoke was leaking into the bedroom and outside, a noise that barely resembled music brought me back to consciousness. After laying awake for a few minutes, I decided to go out and record the scene to prove to myself that I wasn’t still dreaming. The band, using that term loosely, consisted of 6 “musicians” –brass, percussion and sousaphone wandering the street and “entertaining” everyone. In the background firecrackers exploded, coloured fireworks lit up the sky and smoke seemed to roll along the street, The entire population of the street was either watching or involved in the production of the spectacle that appeared before me.

  The closer it got to midnight the smokier it got and the louder and more intense the fireworks display. At one point I experienced a percussion blast that was so powerful that I wondered if I had been transported to a war zone.

 The racket continued up until the stroke of midnight, neither climaxing nor stopping. No countdown to 12 midnight, no midnight toasts or kisses, no balloons falling from the sky, no party favours- just an ongoing stream of fireworks explosions, smoke and light which eventually faded to a dull roar at around 2am. The racket actually continued until close to 6am but the front doors of the hotel were closed around 2, thus deadening the street noise and allowing us the chance to at least doze off occasionally.

New Years Eve- afternoon

Friday December 31^st

   Last night was spent rather sleeplessly, which was to be expected considering the circumstances.

 Before heading out on our planned day trip we locked all our valuables inside our suitcases and placed remaining cash and passports in my money belt.

 After an already planned Shiatsu massage, which helped relieve some of my stress, we set off for the south side of town to catch a bus to Los Pueblos Blancos- literally “ the White Villages.

  The route to the bus station required us to tackle the crowded market area . Height has its advantages in some areas but speed and sheer bravado seems to produce the greatest result when moving against the wave that seems to always flow in the opposite direction.

 When we arrived at the bus station, all seats on our intended transport were taken and upwards of 25 people were already standing. Somehow we managed to board the bus and move to the middle. Some 20 minutes into the trip we were able to grab a seat, which had enough legroom for a 5 year old. 40 minutes and three villages later I limped off the bus at our first planned stop.

The town of Catarina is known locally for flower and houseplant production.    Overlooking the volcanic Lake Apoyo, it also offers a spectacular view of the surrounding countryside. Several overpriced restaurants attempt to take advantage of the view, but after admiring the scene for a half hour or so we descended into the lower part of town where a grilled chicken dinner, drinks included, cost a meagre $5 for two.

 Walking back to the highway and then south for a short kilometre we entered the town of San Juan de Oriente (One of several “San Jauns” in this country. Famous for ceramics, we found the town to be somewhat short on tourists today and it wasn’t long before we had purchased as much pottery as we could reasonably carry home.

 The wait for the bus back to town seemed to take forever but the journey back was somewhat faster and far less crowded than our ride this morning.

 Arriving at the south end of the market, we forced our way back through the streets, still very crowded, but slightly more passable due to the fact that barriers had been set up to restrict the entry of motor vehicles.

 The crowds eventually thinned out as we approached the Parque Central and La Calzada (the pedestrian street to the lake) was almost deserted.

 A stop at Nectar for a sangria offered a quick respite from the heat and nicely broke up the walk back to the hotel. A shower and a short siesta left me refreshed and ready for the planned festivities of the evening.

Ripped Off!!!

\December 30^th,

                          Breakfast today started at the hotel with fruit and juices and a quick shot of coffee.  It concluded at the Garden Café a small but well established breakfast and lunch place that serves up a variety of breakfasts, most of which fall on the healthy and nutritious side of the scale. [In stark contrast to Kathy’s Waffle House, which can easily counter the benefits of every cholesterol pill known to man!]

 Following breakfast we headed for Tierra Tours to book our planned outing.  Disappointingly, our trip to Volcan Masaya was not to be. Turns out the park limits visitors to 50 a day and we were 51 and 52.

  So instead we flagged down a taxi and headed for the lakeside. Once there we walked along the lakeshore, enjoying the somewhat cooler temperatures. Our peace and quiet was interrupted constantly by hawkers promoting boat trips to Las Isletas, Totalling about 350 in number these islands are the detritus of a prehistoric eruption of Volcan Mombacho. Ranging in size from barely noticeable to an acre or so, many of them are permanent or vacation homes to the very wealthy.

  After finally succumbing to the pitch of one salesman, we set off for an hour-long cruise along the lakeshore. In some ways it was reminiscent of the 1000 Islands cruise of the St Lawrence, but with definitely different vegetation.

  Returning to town we enjoyed a filling and tasty lunch at El Garaje, a small restaurant run by an Ontario couple Paul and Heather, who we met on our last trip.

 While I headed out to find a coyote (money changer) Susanna spent the afternoon catching up on all the sleep she missed last night.

  When I first encountered the street moneychangers on my last trip, I was rather apprehensive about the risks of getting mugged or stuck with counterfeit currency. Most of these people are actually sanctioned by the banks and are generally trustworthy- although rates can vary. Carrying a wad of cash, which might total several thousand dollars, these people definitely expedite the process of money exchange, eliminating the time and paperwork of doing the same process at a bank. 

     9:30pm

  We returned from a rather mediocre supper tonight to discover that our room had been robbed. I had noticed some occurrences of  “missing money” over the last few days and wrote it off to circumstance and perhaps forgotten purchases. This time I was 100% certain of the types and quantities of some Euros that I had left inside a money belt in a locked drawer. I called for the owner to come down and together we rehashed the details of the theft. After some fairly rigorous accounting I determined that over the last few days we have been ripped off for about $90 US and $90 Euro. Not a whole lot of money to part with, but the experience has definitely put a damper on the vacation.

  Having been involved with many loss prevention issues in my career, I should have investigated and created a stink when the first $40 or $50 appeared missing on Wednesday morning.

 The annoying part of the whole thing is that I know most of the staff from last time and I don’t think they would steal from me. Theft is often a crime of opportunity and once identified it tends to stop happening. Could it be as guest at the hotel? Who knows? The owner has offered to deduct the estimated losses from my bill and we are now storing all our excess cash in her safe.

Granada-Day Three, I Guess!!

 Wednesday December 29^th.

     Awoke ‘relatively’ early, with plans to head for Masaya before it got too hot. Ended up leaving a little later than planned (10:30am) The bus dropped us off at the edge of town and we made our first stop at a couple of guitar shops with the plan to buy a really good but really cheap Spanish guitar. While reviews on the net glowed with references to quality and sound, I was, sadly, less than impressed with what I saw, and even less impressed with the prices- $300-500 for anything decent. Scratching that purchase off my list we grabbed a taxi to the Malecon (walkway) at the west side of town. Overlooking Lake Masaya, it provided a perfect spot to see Volcan Masaya in the distance. Disappointingly, the volcano was not belching out smoke and volcanic ash, or at least not in a direction that could be seen from town.

  Heading back towards the city centre, several hammock makers were displaying their art in front of their homes. Since I already own two from previous trips (Mexico) I declined their multiple offers of  “ for you- the best price”

 After a stop in the Parque Central  [No, that is not a wood flooring store!] to visit the church (closed on my last visit) and a quick lunch of chicken fajitas we spent a couple of hours roaming the craft market. By some miracle we managed to leave without endangering the contents of my wallet.

 Dinner tonight was in, of all places, a German run establishment with the traditional German name of Charly’s Bar y Restaurante. Located down a dark side street on the far west side of town, we weren’t sure, at first if the taxi driver was taking us to dinner or to a mugging. Serving up everything from sauerkraut and schnitzel to venison we settled on a mixed skewer of various meats and vegetables. Our beverages were a contrast in sizes- a wheat beer came in a glass that you could almost bathe in, while a similarly priced piña colada came in something resembling a small champagne glass. Beverage size aside it was quite an enjoyable meal with enough leftovers to give a couple of stray dogs something to fight over once we got back to the main part of town.

Granada-day one

11:30pm December 27^th

 Midnight is fast approaching and we are finally relaxing in our room. Roman Polanski’s movie The Pianist is on TV. The spoken language is German and the subtitles Spanish. Luckily I have seen it before so the language issue is not that big a deal! The flights down here were not too bad, although a very heavy landing in Miami has re-awakened an old neck injury.

 Clearing immigration and customs was a breeze and our driver was waiting for us outside of the terminal. A somewhat hair-raising ride to Granada took approximately 45 minutes, the driver barrelling down dark and winding roads with little thought for other vehicles.

 Lucy, the hotel owner/manager was waiting when we arrived. One of the staff whipped up a fruit plate and juice for us while Lucy filled us in on recent happenings in the city- mostly restaurants closing and new hotels opening. All the while we were talking her menagerie of cats (now numbering 9 in total) came around to visit us [Note to self: bring along lint brush next time]

  Our promised free meal at Jimmy Three Fingers has gone up in smoke as the restaurant has closed. Even the Nica Buffet- a typical Comida is out of business.

  Tomorrow, my plans are simply to have no plans- everyone deserves a Lazy Day once in a while.

 Tuesday 28^th.

   My first taste of fresh Nicaraguan coffee after more than a year was almost worth the wait. A continental breakfast of bread and preserves, fresh fruit and sweets followed while I waited for Susanna to awaken.

  A slow lazy walk around town took most of the morning as we reacquainted ourselves with the various streets and attractions. Tierra Tours, our primary tour agency on the last trip was our first stop. A brief review of available options should keep us reasonably busy on days when we are not bussing it around the area.

  The market area was still a crowded mass of humanity and Pali, a mini Wal-Mart subsidiary, was still as busy and under serviced as I remembered.

 Walking back towards our hotel, I was disappointed to see that a couple of the restaurants we had enjoyed last year had closed, including the Mediterraneo which had been in business for several years.

  For lunch we settled on Nectar, a small place on the main pedestrian street

  Calle La Calzada. Gazpacho soup and quesadillas with pica de gallo , a banana, guava and orange yoghurt shake for Susanna and a Toña ( local beer) for me.

 An afternoon siesta was followed by another walk around town followed by a rather mediocre dinner. Susanna had garlic chicken, which by weight was probably equal parts chicken and garlic. I thought I was getting rotisserie chicken, which turned out to be fried to the colour of chocolate- oh well, live and learn.

  It was breezy to the point of almost needing a jacket when we headed back to the hotel, passing several (damn it, should have eaten there!) restaurants on the way. Tomorrow we have a day to Masaya planned which I hope will include a trip to Pilates Guitars, a custom guitar maker.