Success is to be measured, not so much by the position that one has reached in life, but by the obstacles which he has overcome.
— Author Unknown
Saturday, September 22, 2012 (DAY 202 -205)
6am 6am and I am once again ready to feel the rigorous of travel. This time I will be headed to Nicaragua’s oldest colonial city of Granada. Founded in 1524 by Francisco Hernández de Córdoba, and whose name bears the currency of the country, it is known as the most popular tourist destination in the country and rests on the northwestern shoreline of Lake Nicaragua. While this affords an opportunity to visit a new destination, it is not all leisure as The Surfing Donkey is sending me to promote the hostel as part of my volunteer duties and is a welcomed trip to explore more of this beautiful country. Thankfully they have both setup free accommodations at the Bearded Monkey hostel as well as covered the costs for my transportation, which is less than $5 USD for the roundtrip journey, I have been anxious to see this well preserved architectural city. After a quick shower and a double check of my rucksack, I head down to the familiar bus depot next to the mercado and climb aboard the colorful bus. After more than an hour of waiting stationary in my seat, the driver takes his seat and fires up the engine and we are on our way to Rivas. It’s funny how I’ve become accustomed to the inconsistency or lack thereof in scheduled timing, but have taken it with stride as part of the experience of the culture that is Central America. The chicken bus from SJDS to Rivas costs only C$15 ($0.65 USD) and due to the frequency of the stops the trips lasts about an hour. Pulling in to the chaotic bus terminal of Rivas there is the typical groups of women selling everything from fruits and nuts to plates of food and cold drinks. Few minutes pass before I locate the bus with the words GRANADA written on the front among the six other buses that are parked with destinations for Managua and Peñas Blancas. Once again there is an hour wait before we back out of the crowded terminal, but thankfully I have brought a book to pass the time. Winding and dodging other buses, taxis, pedestrians, even single-driven horse buggies we make it to the outskirts of town and are soon on a paved road-heading north. The two-hour ride is another minimal cost of C$30 ($1.30 USD) in the effective mass transportation system used by locals and backpackers alike, and the lush countryside and rolling hills allow my thoughts to wander in this excessive freedom that has become a new chapter in my life, and I can’t help but smile at the places I am fortunate enough to visit.
6am 6am and I am once again ready to feel the rigorous of travel. This time I will be headed to Nicaragua’s oldest colonial city of Granada. Founded in 1524 by Francisco Hernández de Córdoba, and whose name bears the currency of the country, it is known as the most popular tourist destination in the country and rests on the northwestern shoreline of Lake Nicaragua. While this affords an opportunity to visit a new destination, it is not all leisure as The Surfing Donkey is sending me to promote the hostel as part of my volunteer duties and is a welcomed trip to explore more of this beautiful country. Thankfully they have both setup free accommodations at the Bearded Monkey hostel as well as covered the costs for my transportation, which is less than $5 USD for the roundtrip journey, I have been anxious to see this well preserved architectural city. After a quick shower and a double check of my rucksack, I head down to the familiar bus depot next to the mercado and climb aboard the colorful bus. After more than an hour of waiting stationary in my seat, the driver takes his seat and fires up the engine and we are on our way to Rivas. It’s funny how I’ve become accustomed to the inconsistency or lack thereof in scheduled timing, but have taken it with stride as part of the experience of the culture that is Central America. The chicken bus from SJDS to Rivas costs only C$15 ($0.65 USD) and due to the frequency of the stops the trips lasts about an hour. Pulling in to the chaotic bus terminal of Rivas there is the typical groups of women selling everything from fruits and nuts to plates of food and cold drinks. Few minutes pass before I locate the bus with the words GRANADA written on the front among the six other buses that are parked with destinations for Managua and Peñas Blancas. Once again there is an hour wait before we back out of the crowded terminal, but thankfully I have brought a book to pass the time. Winding and dodging other buses, taxis, pedestrians, even single-driven horse buggies we make it to the outskirts of town and are soon on a paved road-heading north. The two-hour ride is another minimal cost of C$30 ($1.30 USD) in the effective mass transportation system used by locals and backpackers alike, and the lush countryside and rolling hills allow my thoughts to wander in this excessive freedom that has become a new chapter in my life, and I can’t help but smile at the places I am fortunate enough to visit.
Arriving in a new and unfamiliar place is an uncanny warm feeling that tends to be welcomed by travelers. It is the sense of adventure of a place that has yet to be explored, yet to be experienced. After parking in a dirt lot next to the mercado, I begin the walk down a narrow pathway that has various vendors all crammed next to one another as potential buyers pass in both directions. Always walking with a purpose–almost a sense of urgency, whether that be in Chicago, New York City, or Granada, I have learned to make all efforts to be preyed upon as an easy target. After navigating my way through the busy market and down the main road where all manner of vehicles come within inches of touching you, I look upward and notice the steeple of a church and duck down the side street. The massive gothic style Cathedral that occupies half a city block in both directions rests on the corner of the street. Looking upward to admire the bell tower, I walk up the concrete steps to the plaza and decide to readjust my bearings. As I am doing this I am approached by another backpacker, Andreas from Austria, that happened to be on the same bus but was sitting in the back and so noticing one another was difficult. After a brief conversation we decided to locate the hostel together. Three blocks down from the church and we arrive at the spacious Bearded Monkey. The entrance is a narrow doorway that leads down a short hallway to the reception desk and the first thing that draws your attention is the open courtyard that is full of plant life reaching for the sky. Being led to one of the dorms, the room has fifteen-foot high ceilings with five bunk beds that are spread along each of the walls and has an open area in the middle of the room. As a backpacker, the hottest commodity in a dorm is the highly valued bottom bunk where thankfully there are two available and Andreas and I quickly lay our claim. Taking quick showers before heading out to explore Granada, we stroll down to the lake stopping at an empty restaurant to enjoy a cold drink in the heat. Circling back around to the city center, the plaza is alive with plenty of activity and music. Feeling a bit famished as the time is just past 3pm we find a small Mexican restaurant to enjoy a meal that is anything from what you would expect genuine Mexican meal to be as we are given a single tortilla with small portions of ensalada and of course, gallo pintos. Returning to the hostel to relax from our walk I begin finishing my book before I am fast asleep. Waking up to darkness and sounds of conversation outside the dorm, I venture out and meet two more travelers, George from Germany and Killian from Ireland. After the typical greetings we all decide to find a place for dinner and since Killian is the only one of the four of us that has been in Granada for more than five hours, he leads us to one of his favorite spots, which of course is Irish. The night winds down as we are joined by an English couple and I feel outnumbered by the Europeans, but the laughs and diverse topics continue before heading back to the hostel where I am exhausted and am asleep before my head hits the pillow.
The luxury of sleeping in a bed that doesn’t feel as though I am awaking on a pile of rocks as I do in my bed back in SJDS, the time is 9:30am when I crawl out of bed. Walking out of the dorm I’m greeted by Andreas, who gives a friendly good morning. Little time passes before George is also up and around and we decide to indulge in the advertised all-you-can-eat breakfast at the Chocomuseo. As we begin to head out we are also joined by two girls from Germany that are volunteering with a special needs school in Managua, which gives us a bit to talk about. Highly disappointed with the breakfast that is sub par with cold hard hash brown potatoes, cold pinto gallo, and a limited selection of items that include chocolate for being a chocolate museum, none of us are pleased with the $6 USD purchase, but attempt to make the most of it. As I sat there attempting to get my moneys worth, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the incredible all-you-can-breakfast in San Pedro La Laguna that was a proper brekkie with all of the fixings for only $5 USD and was discovered with Lindsay and Maf. As most of us were catching buses leaving in all directions, the goodbyes were quick and brief and I soon found myself on a bus headed south to Rivas before transferring to SJDS. This is the second journey back to the Pacific beach town and I couldn’t help but feel as though I was coming home. Arriving just before sunset, it was the end of another great night in SJDS.
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