Final Word Nicaragua 2013

Ok for real The End...
In all things there must come an end. 
Our holiday to Nicaragua was very pleasant and full of memories. Food we ate, people we met, walking along the beach mindlessly. The final day on Little Corn was sad. We parted ways with our new found friends both local and foreigners. The friends we made will live on in time through the greatest friend space to hit the cyber waves, Facebook.

We hung out settled up our bill and swung in hammocks until it was time for our wooden cart to carry our bags back to the dock. Now remember getting to a destination can often times be better than getting from it minus perhaps a bumpy nauseous ride on an island boat. Our departing Corn Island lived up to this.

We all arrived as told an hour before the panga was due to leave, purchasing out passage. About 20 minutes late, the panga arrived an attempted to get 80 people on a 50 person panga boat. They squeeze us in like sardines, 5 to a bench seat meant for 4, some people actually sitting on each other's laps. After squeezing 68 of us on the panga the others left on the dock, whose bags had already been loaded were to to wait for the next boat. A tall islander ran around shouting "don't worry". Trust me the look on the passengers faces were not short of panic let alone worry.

We pulled away from the dock and headed south along the shore to a small house with a 20' boat, handed off some fuel and a bottle of oil and they followed us back to the dock, loaded the remaining passengers and we all set out. The second panga following closely to us despite the 15' swells that often stopped it dead in is tracks. A 35 minute ride in the blazing sun and humid heat with little in the way of cooling spray was an experience in endurance, trial by sun fire.

The next leg was the La Costena plane ride from Big Corn to Managua. Upon arriving at the gate we were given a boarding card and sat down to wait. A moment later the desk agent asked for us to produce our confirmation for this flight. Turns out I had booked up back on the Dec 6, 2014. Oops. Of course the flight was over booked and yet they continued to check in new passengers, mostly locals.

Boarding time came and Chris, Gandi and I all made out way through security clutching tightly to our boarding passes. We were getting on that plane. No one said a word. They called to board out flight boarding passes 1-18, then Bluehills passengers and shut the doors. About 12 of us remained in the boarding area looking helpless at each other. We were told they were bringing another plane and it would be about 15 minutes. Faith must play a hand at this point and sure enough 20 minutes later a small Cessna plate arrive. This was a planned action all along. Our bags for each passenger held over was waiting to be loaded on this new flight.

We arrived after a very comfortable plane ride playing dodge with the thunder heads billowing up from the stratus below us. It was like flying in a cotton candy machine. Once we crossed over to land I could see how beautiful and vastly vacant Nicaragua was. Dotted with hills and rain forests, small communities sprung up huddled closely to the hillsides and small deforested areas. Further inland the hills gave way to vast flatlands that looked like a patchwork quilt of farming areas and homes. Next, as we came closer to the Pacific coast the flatlands were shattered but huge volcanoes rising above the valley floors. As we flew into the sunset these monoliths were bathed in a soft hues of tropical reds and sand colored mauves.

Over all our trip was everything we could've dreamed for and much more. Gandaulf got to experience a whole new way of life, digging, surfing, and becoming an honorary Corn Dog for a week. We got out disconnect and thought empty thoughts and worried about nothing. To the Little Corn Islands and Nicaragua, we will be back to lavish in your simplicity and bathe in the tranquility that is Nicaragua.

December 6, 2014 Little Corn Island, Nicaragua

Final installment?
Contemplating One's Navel
Three or four days in we finally became accustomed to the pace of island life. The cares and concerns melt away. The birds begin to speak, you start naming the golden orb spider residing in the palm tree outside your door. Even Gandaulf lazed away the hours, covered in sand and happy to have not seen or been in a car for days. The sea air penetrates every inch of your being and heals all that once ailed you. You can spends hours reading a book hanging in a hammock, staring at the waves, sand and sunlight glinting off the surface and thinking of nothing. Listen to the wind flapping the palm fronds and be at peace with all around you.

In our lives at home we cannot afford to breaks like this. Just sit and take in all the wonders around without getting distracted or caught up a flurry of thoughts that don't allow time to stop and wonder. It is a simple existence like this here on this island I hope to one day have as my daily grind. To feel at peace and a calmness that fixes itself deep inside. Being able to smell the roses, see the forest for the trees and contemplate, well, one's navel.

December 5, 2013 Little Corn Island, Nicaragua

Installment #4
West side Little Corn Island
There are 3 trails that lead across the island strategically spread for the transport of supplies from the dock to the various remote homes, businesses and hotels that rely on the cargo ship that arrives twice a week. Everything here on the island is transported, grown or harvested from the sea.

Today we ventured to the west side in hopes of calmer seas and perhaps some fishing spots. The air was hot and humid. The air thick with jungle smells and flowers. You could feel the humidity all around you and an uncontrollable sweat formed on our entire bodies. We could hear the sea and hastened our steps to find its cool relief.

Arriving on this side of the island you could tell this was the more developed side and a "bustling" center of commerce. There were a few restaurants, hotels and dive shops. The dock was the main hub of action with boats and pangas traveling from the Big Island. Locals pushing big wheeled wooden carts full of provisions brought on the cargo ship to their various destinations.

One main brick and concrete path, painted in various island colors strung this bustling center together. Children and tourists alike played in the water, a few families of fisherman threw their hand lines into the surf in hopes of catching dinner. We found a refuge and played with Gandaulf in the surf and cooled off ourselves. Time slowed and the daytime temperatures became tolerable. Relaxation overwhelmed our total beings and we were finally disconnected.

December 4, 2013 Little Corn Island, Nicaragua

Installment #3
We arrived at the airport and found a friendly, more than helpful taxi driver who whisked us away to the dock while telling us his whole life story. We were delivered to The Paradise Tours boat and ushered on board.

The Paradise is a 40' vessel with a forward deck with chairs mounted and an interior cabin also full of mounted bright green benches, bright green a key word here. We set out with 30 adults all excited to reach Little Corn until about 15 minutes into our trip. The seas became huge and the boat rolled wildly, pitching and tossing about wave to wave. Soon almost all passengers mirrored the benches they were trying to stay seated on. One by one a few passengers succumbed to the sea sickness gripping us all. Thirty minutes later we threw open the doors and windows and a burst of fresh air flushed out the stench of sickness and refreshed us all.

We were met by a porter from the hotel with a rudimentary wheel barrow in which we placed our bags and set off for a 15 minute hike, in the dark, across the island on a slick muddy path. About three quarters the way the heavens unleashed a downpour which at first was comical then became a bit uncomfortable as the path grew slicker and our headlamps illuminated only the huge raindrops falling in front of us instead of the path. We could see the lights of our destination ahead and we all broke out in a run to the shelter. Dripping wet and laughing at our fortune we were greeted warmly and hurried out of the rain.

Little Corn Beach and Bungalows
This little oasis on Little Corn island is an Eco Friendly, and dog friendly, set up of huts and cabanas built of simple materials and modest amenities. The roofs are made of corrugated steel, the walls sheets of plywood that fit together like old puzzle pieces. The floors are hand cut planks the furniture all islanders rendition of high end beach chairs and tables. Pillapas abound, probably to escape the all of the sudden down pours the island is accustomed to. They have a quite efficient rain water catchment system they use for showers, toilets and tap, not for drinking. The grounds are nicely manicured by islanders that work quietly like an army of ants in a sand garden. A true oasis on a one and a half mile spit of sand 50 miles out in the Caribbean Sea.

5am...the power to the island shuts down. The fan by our bed moving the humid air from the nights torrential down pours slowly stops rotating and we are awoken by the sun streaming through the window by our bed. It is much too early. I turn over and strip off the sheet, get comfortable and drift back off to sleep.

Thanksgiving 2013 Little Corn Island, Nicaragua

Installment #2
La Pyramide Hotel, Managua, Nicaragua 
We pulled up in front of a guarded gate and the driver hoped out. The security guard greeted us with a warm welcome, at least I think, and grabbed our bags and opened the gate. Inside was a dimly lit wonderland of odd shaped buildings. We were escorted into the office and the guard ran off and left us standing. Moments later he returned with a gentleman who spoke English and welcomed us.

Our room was interestingly shaped. It mirrored the side of the pyramid it was designed after. There were triangular windows on two walls and a small bathroom on the other. The room held 3 single beds and a small refrigerator that hummed all night.

Morning came too early as the sun rose at 5 am and streamed in through the triangular window. Gandaulf was sleeping soundly on the bottom of my bed and seemed dreamy in comfort. Chris was also sleeping soundly until a loud crash woke us all up from our slumbers and Chris' bed was lying on the floor at one end. The legs had broken off and the bed fell to the tile floor with a nightly crash. We all laughed and drifted back to sleep.

At around noon we drove off to the airport once more to start the second leg of our journey. We were to take a small jet prop plane to Big Corn Island, then board a "panga" or The Paradise tour boat and take a 45 minute ride to Little Corn Island, and our final destination.

Thanksgiving 2013 Nicaragua

Installment #1:

Welcome to destination Nicaragua. Our journey started out uneventful, first class tickets on Delta thanks only to frequent flier miles we had accumulated. Total for tickets $150/each. Salt Lake to Atlanta a quick stop over then on our way to Nicaragua. A slight delay then on our way.
We arrived at approx 10:45pm and quickly exited the plane and made our way through the customs area and into a little room that was about 10x10 grey and cold with a little man that spoke no English and continued to ask too many questions, all of which we answered with inquisitive looks and head nods. After a few stamps, exchanging paperwork and $14 we entered into Nicaragua with Gandaulf in tow, legal and now in search of our driver.The scene was a madhouse due to the late arrivals from the States. People clambering about some with signs that held people's names and destinations. After a half hour of searching and questions that fell on deaf ears we finally found our driver.
He hustled us and our backpacks off to his broken down taxi, hurried me and Gandaulf into the back seat and Chris sat up front. Off we went, disobeying every traffic signal and sign, heeding only to large trucks barreling down on us from the far lanes. Sitting in the back there were no handles on the windows and it was like swimming in a sea of noxious diesel fumes. By the time we got to the hotel my head was splitting and my stomach turning. The drive took about half an hour which was 30 minutes too long.

A Final Note: The Things You Need to Know But Probably Don't Want To

Whenever you travel in another country you must be prepared for the differences in culture and available creature comforts. Not just the trail, but the majority of the small towns and villages we visited had items not too pleasant for the pampered Gringo traveler. 


Of course drinking water from the tap is always a no no. 


TP in the toilets, also a no no. 


Running water in sinks to wash your hands, optional. 


Toilet seats, optional. TP, optional.

This hike was challenging to say the least. The facilities on the trail were unpleasant at best. It is amazing however, that in the middle of nowhere there can be flush toilets and running water at all. Amazing ingenuity. 


Each camp had a few areas of sorta flat pads for the tents we slept in. 


The tents themselves were mostly waterproof.


The altitude will kick your ass no matter how tough you think you are, or how hard you trained. 


The toilets were keyhole squat type that were the most disgusting things you can imagine. Personal hygiene is high priority or you will find yourselves ill with something you totally don't want in the middle of nowhere. 


The only exit off the trail IS the trail.


The Camino Inka was both rewarding and absolutely took every ounce of every fiber of my being to succeed. I knew when we set out to do this hike it would be challenging, but I really had no idea what we were in for. There were times when you just would give up because it was just too damn hard and you had nothing left. There were times of triumph when, after you gave up, something inside pushed you onto the next goal. Even if that goal was just 5 more steps, the next bush or landmark. Bottom line you only ever had two choices from the moment you set foot on the trail, to move forward, no matter how hard it was...or turn back and face the same path as continuing forward. Either way it was going to be hard as hell so suck it up sissy!


Would I do it again? HELL NO! What I saw can't be captured in pics. What I went through cant really be put into words. Let's just say if you ask me about seeing Machu Picchu, if that's really all what you want to do...take the damn train. — with Chris Williams.