Nicaragua (Nic-ar-ag-oo-a)

This country is incredible. I've been here for a week and a half so far and I absolutely love it. It's so different from both Costa Rica and Panama. A bit dirtier, a bit louder, hotter. I love the street food, the chicken buses, the currency. I spent several days in Leon: the most beautiful city I've seen this entire trip. It's not very touristed yet so it was easy to walk through the streets (sticking to the shady side of course) without being hassled or hustled--no more than the locals are hustled by the regular vendors with baskets of various food and drink on their heads. I went to the central market there several times and each time I found something amazing. Refrescos naturales (fresh juices) in all sorts of strange flavors for 10 cordobas (50 cents). Dulce de cacao, a type of sweet with cocoa. The largest papayas I have ever seen in my life. Delicious home baked pastries of all kinds. You're allowed to walk all over the roof of the cathedral (unsupervised) for great views of the city and all the neighboring volcanoes, provided you don't ring the bells or run around on the domes. I would have spent more time there but it was just too hot. And I'm near the end of my trip so each day must be carefully planned (yikes!).

I then spent several days in Granada which is also beautiful but entirely filled with tourists. It became overwhelming with everyone offering taxis, buses, hammocks, vases everywhere, even in restaurants. I was dying slowly from the heat--seriously, I've never been this hot before for an extended amount of time--and suffocating from all the attention so it was a relief to go to Isla de Ometepe. It's a huge island in the middle of the Lago de Nicaragua, a huge lake with sharks. The island is in the shape of a figure eight with a volcano on each side, one larger and one smaller. The natural beauty there is incredible. It is not highly developed or overly touristed yet so my entire stay was very relaxing. I stayed at Finca Magdalena, a coffee farm at the base of the smaller volcano, Maderas. One day Emily and I climbed the volcano with a group from the Finca. The hardest 6 mile hike I've ever done (not to mention the terrible shape in which I find myself cardiovascularly). The trail passes through several kinds of forests with great views of the larger volcano, Concepcion, and there's a muddy lake at the top in a crater. The second day I took a bus to Ojo de Agua, a natural spring that was turned in to a swimming area. I tried to swim in the lake on the way back but it was pretty dirty and too shallow for hundreds of feet from the shore.

I'm now in San Juan del Sur on the southern Pacific coast. I've been hearing opposing opinions about this place for several months now so here I am to judge for myself. The beach looks nice? It's hot.

Al Norte

I'm back in Liberia, as a necessary stop on the way to Nicaragua. I left Jenny in Montezuma, waiting for a shuttle to the airport. It was great to see her--I can't believe it's been almost a year since I said goodbye to her in Coria. We spent a long time reliving our Spanish experiences, talking about some of the intolerable people we knew there, missing the food; we probably bored Emily to with it. The three of us went to Monteverde and Montezuma on the Nicoya Peninsula.

Monteverde was amazing. When I was trying to figure out what to do when Jenny came, she told me the only thing she really wanted to do was go on a zipline. We did a canopy tour which lasted about 3 hours and consisted of 14 ziplines and a Tarzan swing. I was pretty terrified before we began (heights not being a personal strength) because I had no idea what to expect. We had picked the tour at random the night before, bleary-eyed after 5 hours on the bus (as I am at the current moment--what's new?). We got in to these ridiculous harnesses and helmets-- yeah, that's right, safety is ridiculous-- and worked our way up slowly, starting on small lines. The longest one was 750 meters long, spanning an entire valley. The wind is so strong up there and the whole experience is surreal, gliding (swinging, flying?) so high above everything. The scariest thing was the Tarzan swing. I didn't know what it was before we started the tour, and Jenny knew what it was but didn't know it was going to be on the tour, or we may have chosen differently. It's just a huge swing, where you jump (drop, plummet) from a platform and free fall before swinging impossibly far (and, in my case, coming very close to a tree). I'm not quite sure how I managed to step off the platform but the swinging itself was so much fun and I'm certain I had a -eating grin on my face. It sounded painful while others were doing it (screams, not of but of pain) but I think it was just the guys that had problems there (hah!).

That afternoon we went to the Monteverde National Preserve. We did a whirlwind tour of the area and unfortunately didn't see very much wildlife because we didn't go in the morning (no quetzals, alas) but the trees there are incredible. They're so tall and everything is so green. The weather was beautiful--ironic, that I finally have good weather in a cloud forest.

Next day we went to Montezuma on the Nicoya Peninsula, spectacular beach. Best one I've seen yet.

Tomorrow to Nicaragua!

Guanacaste

I am in Liberia, Guanacaste; it is entirely different from any other part of Costa Rica I've seen yet. It's dry, incredibly sunny (as the guy at the hotel said: "por la mañana, hace sol; por la tarde, hace sol; por la noche, hace sol), hot. Not at all jungly or humid like the rest of the places I've been. And there are sabaneros (cowboys) everywhere! Herding horses down the street, riding through town. It's very interesting. I've always had an aversion to cowboys (Marlboro man, anyone?) but I really enjoy seeing these ones around--especially because they're actually doing something and aren't just hicks wearing cowboy hats spitting tobacco.

The landscape is beautiful. It's very stark but so green near the rivers. Today I went to the Parque Nacional Santa Rosa and saw a tropical dry forest with the tree of the region, the Guanacaste. The budding/flowering season is completely different from our own ("spring" doesn't mean flowers or leaves necessarily) as some trees lose their leaves during the summer, the dry season, to conserve water. Thus the budding happens in winter, or the rainy season. It's strange to see leafless trees everywhere while it's so hot and sunny.

Yesterday I went to the Parque Nacional Rincón de la Vieja (Corner of the Old Woman, literally). It was amazing: by far my favorite park in Costa Rica. It has fumaroles, mud pots, steaming, sulfurous pits of boiling water. The landscape is striking, with some of the strangest trees I've ever seen. All against a backdrop of tall ridges and impossibly blue sky. I hiked to the Catarata Escondida (Hidden waterfall) and for most of the hike I believed that it couldn't exist because there was no water anywhere and it seemed simply impossible. But I found it, it was possible, and there was an incredible view into the valley below where the water fell several hundred feet beneath me.

I really like this region but the heat is very intense and there are so many biting bugs so it seems good to leave soon. I'm meeting Jenny at the airport in a few days and I can't wait!

Cascanueces

Back in San José. It's strange to be back here after 2 months. I guess I should count myself lucky for not having to come back here sooner as it's the main transportation hub in the country. A lot has happened in the last week or so. I made it to Punta Mona with little mishap--well, less than would be expected on a hike through the jungle with unmarked trails with our entire packs in ankle- and calf-deep mud with a map drawn by someone who had attempted it, gotten lost, and was later told the way by someone else. After about 2 hours of hiking through muddy, mosquito-infested trails, Emily and I came upon a farm. It didn't really seem like the right place, but I assumed that there weren't very many residences out there. I asked the guy working on a shed, "¿Dónde estamos?" to which he replied "Punta Mona", sealing any doubts I had about the place. He seemed a little agitated by our presence and asked us to wait down on the beach for the dueños to come back in about an hour. So we went down to the beach, skinny dipped for awhile, ate our "lunch" (oreos, crackers, peanut butter) and climbed back up to the farm. The same guy came back and seemed even more agitated. After a long series of awkward questions, we finally determined we were in the wrong place and that the farm we were searching for was farther down the trail. When asked the location of something, who gives the geographical feature? I found it hilarious but the guy didn't even crack a smile. He pointed us down the trail. Another hour of slogging through mud, but even deeper, wetter, stickier. At one point Emily's shoes were sucked into the mud and she had to a) balance rather gracefully to avoid tumbling over with the weight of her bag and b) walk in her socks in the mud to extract her shoes (with several loud sucking sounds). This was also hilarious and I did my best to avoid that area. We finally arrived in Punta Mona (the actual organic farm, not the geographical feature which we had been hiking on already for several hours).

I spent two days at Punta Mona, during which it rained on and off the entiretime. I had a great time, though. It's an organic farm which is sustainable and mostly self-reliant. Basically, a commune of a bunch of hippies from the US and Canada who wanted to escape our sociopoliticaleconomic system. Communal, vegetarian meals (absolutely amazing) with produce from the farm, yoga at 6am on an open wooden platform from which you can hear the jungle, the ocean, the rain, the birds, the howler monkeys. I would have stayed longer but the weather was terrible and I was getting tired of staring out at the beautiful Caribbean through a sheet of rain. The hike out was less eventful, took about half the time because they lent us rubber boots. It would have been impossible otherwise because of the (even) increased mud from several days of constant rain. I saw many red dart frogs on the trail.

I spent two nights in Puerto Viejo, hoping that the weather would clear. One day was mostly sunny with several unannounced downpours. I did manage a bit of beach time. That night, the last night there, I was awoken at 2am to painfully loud reggaeton and lots of shouting. I was a bit disoriented and it took a few minutes to realize that there was a man outside shouting about how he had a right to do what he wanted in his own home, etc. I went out to the balcony to see what the fuss was and everyone from the hostal was out there too. Some guy (stoned? as the Norwegian girls suggested because they had never seen someone high before; drunk, more likely) was outside at the entrance of the hostal yelling and shaking the bars while several of the ticos staying at the hostal were trying to reason with him (I have no idea where the owners were: not where they should have been, caring for their hostal). We were all peering down the stairs when there was a gunshot. Mass exodus of gringos and europeos back to the dorm room. We all got in bed, absolutely shocked and completely unsure of what to do. Not that there was much to do besides stay in the dorm room and listen to his music. A little while later, some dumb American staying in a different room went out to the balcony and threw a bottle at his house, hitting the tin roof and making a really loud noise. The music stopped and we all waited to see what would happen. The guy retaliated by throwing several things (bottles?) at our tin roof. Loud, but not that scary as they were obviously not gun shots. Obvious to me but the two Norwegian girls ran to my side of the room and threw themselves under my bed and the one next to it. Eventually some women outside started arguing with the man and he turned the music off. The Norwegian girls climbed out and went to bed. All nine of us in the dorm left the next morning.

Nothing so eventful here in San José. Yesterday I went to the Museo de Arte y Diseño Contemporáneo where I stumbled upon a "summer festival" and so got to see the National Symphonic Orchestra last night for free. I haven't seen an orchestra in years and this one was really good. They played about 9 pieces, among them 2 from the Nutcracker (Cascanueces--is it Christmas?), 2 from Harry Potter (yeah, I don't get it either), and several Costa Rican songs during which everyone around me cheered and shouted a bunch.

I'm happy to be out of the rain and looking forward to impending trips to Arenal, Monteverde, Irazú, Liberia.

2 water taxis, 4 buses and 3 border crossings

I'm back in Costa Rica after 2 water taxis, 3 buses and 3 border crossings (as the title suggests--I'm waiting for the 4th bus currently) today. Three times across the border because on the first trip across the rickety bridge there was no one on the Panamanian side whose job seemed to be stamping passports. So the jerk official on the Costa Rican side made me return to Panama for a stamp (this time with a line pointing to the obscure office), thus making me cross that stupid bridge between the two countries three times. It's obviously old and has oddly placed planks and is filled with people, so the multiple crossings made the whole situation even more annoying. I'm coming from Isla Bastimentos in Bocas del Toro, which is highly preferable to Isla Colón, the main island there. It's so strange to go from absolute tourist trap (albeit with excellent Indian food) with 40 hotels to an island with no cars or roads where the nightlife is nonexistent and the "street" is quiet by 9pm. There was a consensus among all the travellers on Bastimentos as to how horrible Bocas Town on Isla Colón was. A bunch of 20-year-olds Americans who can't drink at home so they come here to form little cliques in the hostal. Very strange. I also had some amazing food on Bastimentos. There's a Thai restaurant run by an American man and Thai woman up this slippery, muddy slope into the jungle. It was delicious--as I had been lacking Thai food for 2 months now. I also had some of the best fish of my life: red snapper with a "Caribbean sauce". I don't even know: riquísimo. I met some pretty cool people there, too. Three Texans who had graduated from UT Austin (Texas, I know, scary but) who basically convinced me to go to that university instead of the one in Montreal. I am just kidding but I've had great luck with finding out about possible grad schools while I've been here. Saw a British guy I'd met a couple weeks ago in Boca Brava. Three hilarious Germans who are in Panama studying bugs and other creep critters who taught an enthralled audience about various tropical diseases we had never heard of (Chagas disease, anyone?) and how long we could go before we lost a limb or our life after various types of snakes bit us. The mating habits of small, introduced lizards. The weather wasn't great and the beaches weren't very accessible but I really enjoyed myself.

So, back in expensive Costa Rica. It's going to be a shock, I'm sure. Getting used to this currency again... I'm going to miss Panama. I loved the country and especially some of the food. Ceviche (also found in CR), hojaldres (fried dough which sounds kinda gross but excellent), rice and beans with coconut milk (also CR I think), various type of fresh juices (superior to CR), that "Caribbean sauce". I wish I could have spent more time here and gone further south/east. I'm excited to be back here too; tomorrow Emily and I will attempt to hike in to Punta Mona, something of a communal organic farm where someone we met a long time ago now is staying. I do hope we don't get bitten by a terciopelo or get lost in the jungle!

Por fin.. ¡el caribe!

Yes, finally, finally, finally I am on the Caribbean. Clear, clear water; white, white sand. I'm in Bocas del Toro, a province in northeastern Panama, on Isla Colón. I have yet to see much of the island (urgent laundry needs and evil freezing night bus from Panama City and epic journeys yesterday on bumping diabolically painted former US school buses). I spent part of Carnaval in Panama City; it's not extensively celebrated there but the city does block of part of a major road that is lined with food and beer vendors, blaring awful reggaeton in competition for one's business (how this is meant to attract anyone is a little beyond me), where little and not-so-little kids throw confetti and spray silly string in your face. Fun for awhile but old very quickly. Next I went to Portobelo, on the Caribbean coast. It was pretty awful to get there: in an effort to avoid Colón, I got off the stop before, Sabanitas, in order to catch the bus from Colón to Portobelo. Brilliant, if every other panameño hadn't also been trying to go from Sabanitas up the coast. After missing 2 buses by not shoving children out of the way fast enough--as everyone else seemed to be doing--I got on the bus. In the midst of a very intense argument between two women about the shoving, I believe. It quickly degenerated into personal insults about each other and their mothers, while everyone waited for them to calm down. The bus ride was fairly awful as it was one of the brightly painted former school buses, and me wearing my huge bag in the midst of a pushing crowd on a crammed bus. Eventually it cleared enough for me to set the millstone on the floor. I met some Canadians who were headed to Isla Grande, a little further up the coast. I arrived in Portobelo to trash everywhere and pounding reggaeton (f'ing everywhere) por todos lados. Emily and I had reserved a room but it was about 2 feet from the main square with the music and we had to shout even in the room. Fortunately, there was another hostal away from the music. Portobelo would probably be a nice place to visit not during Carnaval, with ruins from the colonial fort. We had planned to go to Isla Grande for the day but was told (mostly incorrectly) by a Swiss guy at the hostal that the last bus returned at 1pm. Decisions decisions: to return directly to Panama City or hope to find lodging on the isla. Swiss guy said go to the isla, which is what we ended up doing. Isla Grande was picturesque, with tons of Panamanian families on vacation. There were very few white people, the exact opposite of my current location. We met up with the Canadians, who all attend McGill University in Montreal, who all then convinced me not only to visit them there but also to attend grad school there. This entry is going nowhere fast so I hope to move on to a slightly less touristed island tomorrow, perhaps. I did not make a fool of myself during Carnaval, for the record.

Panama City

I am so glad the second farm fell through (I guess that's relatively accurate?)--I am enjoying Panama so completely. To think: I didn't even consider the possibility of coming here. I must admit, most of my preconceived ideas (disease and bug infested) about Panama come from partial truths about the construction of the Panama Canal and the many people who died of malaria and yellow fever during that period. Yeah, fully aware of how stupid that is. Anyway. I spent one night in David, the third largest city and dreadful, before heading to Boquete, near Volcan Baru in the mountains. It's a beautiful area and unfortunately couldn't really take advantage of all the hiking in the area due to misinformation from an absolutely insane hostal owner and a storm that closed a trail. Still, enjoyable. Walking the pouring rain, lots of hitching rides back to town. After that, the original plan had been to go directly to the Caribbean side to Bocas del Toro. However, as often happens, other places started to sound too good to miss. I went to Boca Brava, an island on the Pacific, for several days. I'd heard about it from about 6 different people who all told me just to show up, that I'd only have to sleep in a hammock for a max one night. Emily and I were so close to sleeping in hammocks (we even set up the mosquito net, makeshiftily) but luckily found someone with an extra double bed in his room. It was nice to be back on the coast, I hadn't realized how long I'd been inland (weeks and weeks and weeks!). Some of the best fish I've ever had, too, at the restaurant in the hostal. The plan had then been to go to Bocas del Toro, but so many people recommended Panama City, so here I am! Home of the canal, seen briefly from the bus. Carnaval starts on Friday, so I'm excited to see how Panama celebrates! (Hopefully not a repeat of last year, Badajoz...) I walked around the Casco Viejo today, the colonial part. Some areas are completely run down and some are filled with beautiful buildings. I went in the Teatro Nacional, and later returned for a "ballet show" which no one could (or would, perhaps) describe. Emily and I decided that it ought to be good no matter what it was, being in the National Theater, inaugurated in 1906 (!). Shit, it was a ballet recital for ages 2-18. It was terrible. And hilarious. Because, really? As Emily pointed out, this kind of event is hosted in a high school auditorium. Not a National Theater for $10! Not really worth it (in any way) but so funny.

Panama is much cheaper than Costa Rica in almost every regard (salvo transportation). It's really strange to be using the US dollar again, especially because our dead presidents are on the official currency of this country. Panama mints its own coins (balboas), although half seem to be American as well. It was strange to see an Oregon quarter.. so far from home. The money seems so much more real to me, as opposed to spending thousands of something for a meal. I've met a lot of people who are continuing on to Colombia from here. There is no passage overland (in theory, yes, but passing the Darien Gap between the two countries sounds suicidal--FARC, anyone?) so everyone either flies or goes by boat. As happens every time I travel, I want to go with. Go to Colombia and just continue south to see the penguins. Alas, I restrain myself and will reluctantly (hah!) return to Costa Rica via the Caribbean coast, travel for a few days with Jenny (!) and then head to Nicaragua. For a third currency in my wallet. I like it.