NIcaragua Day 7

Our last day in Nicaragua was fraught with decisions. What to do? Some wanted to go to the beach, others wanted to go to Granada. One guide. So, we left early enough to do both!


First stop, the beach (Pacific side). Much like Ocean City, our local beach here in the States, the beach is lined with businesses vying for tourists' attention. Quite unlike our local area, billboards do not line the main road to the shore; instead, men come running from everywhere (on foot and on bike) to greet you and offer to escort you to the best restaurant on the beach. Restaurant, in this sense however, is a grass covered pavilion where you can stow your gear, hit the beach, and all of the food and souvenir vendors come to you. In droves.


My morning was spent debating religion over local rum and cokes. Others went down by the shore and sunbathed. A few, the comic-relief team, rented surf boards and headed out to catch some waves. They quickly learned, however, why they were the only ones out there. While looking out to sea for the next great ride, they lost track of how quickly they were heading away from shore. Fortunately, one of them is a life guard in Ocean City. As soon as he realized they were caught in the swiftest rip tide he had ever experienced, he focused their efforts on keeping parallel to shore until they reached a break and could head in. Tired, exhausted, and honestly kind of freaked, they collapsed under the pavilion. This pretty much signaled it was time to move on to our next destination, Granada.


The beach to Granada seemed like a three-hour ride. It was our day off, so I didn't bother with a watch. But we drove east, heading up into the rolling hills. The roads were in fantastic condition, and Nicaragua has a lush, green landscape. We passed through small towns and villages aplenty. Men working in fields, kids playing football [soccer], and people walking everywhere. We saw two processions: one was a wedding party trekking down the side of the road. The second was the population of a small village walking in celebratory costumes led by a priest and altar boys: a celebration of the their saint's birthday.

The road through Granada to Lake Nicaragua was packed with a Saturday market. It reminded me of Cairo. Children and dogs running everywhere, stalls of produce, cheap clothing and household necessities spilling out into the roadway, mules and horses milling about, and baskets everywhere — piled along the road, stacked on rooftops and women's heads. But the time we finally turned off the thoroughfare, I was surprised we hadn't taken on extra passengers or a chicken or two.

Our turn-off brought us onto a wide road through a much quieter part of the city. Tropical trees and low stone buidlings lined the cobbled street. From here, we reached the park providing access to the boats which ferry people around the islands dotting the lake.


Lake Nicaragua is the second largest lake in Latin America (after Lake Titicaca) and has the distinction of hosting the planet's only population of freshwater sharks, as well as a host of incongruous aquatic life. Geologists think it was once a bay of the Pacific Ocean, which over time was enclosed from periodic lava flows.


An archipelago of islands dots the lake in the Granada vicinity. Many are just large enough for an average home. Some have large, luxury estates. Others have a few humble dwellings with fishing boats tied up along the banks. And then one tiny mound of land is appropriately named Monkey Island.


Our destination was a small island restaurant. A covered pavilion with an assortment of tables took up about a third of the island. Two modest infinity pools, homes of the family who owned the restaurant, and the kitchen area made up the rest. Fishing boats anchored behind the kitchen rocked gently against the banks, waiting to get the next day's fresh catch.


The food was a wonderful mix of cultural favorites. Freshly caught fish was displayed for selection by those ordering seafood. The relaxing atmosphere ended abruptly, however, when darkness began to fall, ushered in with deepening clouds. Fearing an on-coming storm, our boat captain raced back to the Granada shore. Um, yes. Raced. Totally exhilarating!