Isla de Ometepe in Lake Nicaragua

We made it to Ometepe Island and spent last night at Finca Magdalena.  It was good to leave San Juan del Sur as the surf was flattening out, the town was exhausted from New Years festivities and we had eaten at every restaurant.  The last morning we were there I got up early and went diving with the neighbor, he's a 22 year old kid who just seems to surf and go diving and i think his name was Samba.  He took me on a short hike up and over a hill to the east of town and down into a small, secluded beach area.  We snorkelled around looking for octopus and lobster.  After about half an hour we found some in a large bouldered area.  We had to dive down about 20 feet, then Samba would hook them with an aluminum spike he had made.  The lobster would come sailing out of the rock crevice and then he would catch it like he had been tossed a baseball.  If he didn't catch it in time the lobster would engage its tail and take off at an amazing rate of speed and hide in the rocks again.  Samba new all the holes and exits thoughand in a few minutes he caught 4 lobster.  We had been in the water over an hour at that point so we headed back to the hostel and grilled them immediately.  no butter or anything, and they were delicious.  Then Ang and i caught a collectivo taxi to Rivas and then another taxi in Rivas to San jorge where we caught a ferry to Ometepe.  The ferry took about an hour and was loaded to the gills with cars, produce, motorbikes and gringos.  I ended up sitting between a German and an Austrian on the way over.  Ther German was on a 4-week trip across Nicaragua, Costa Rica and ending in Panama and he had every day planned out on a spreadsheet.  Wahnsinn.  When we got to ometepe the boat was swarmed by kids who would crawl up the side and then dive off into the muddy waters of lake Nicaragua.  As we left the boat a swarm of taxi drivers and hotel owners met us, all talking at once while laborers staggered past us with the imported bags of produce.  We finally agreed to cross the island wiht a local who looked like a Hawaiian islander, dark flowing hair and the build of a hard working farmer.  He said he had a banana farm in addition to his taxi services.  Two Austrians from the boat joined us to split the cab fare.  We took off hurtling across the island on its newly paved road enroute to Balgue about 45 km away.  The taxi driver said the island is 95% born and raised islanders and he reckoned it was the safest place in all of Central America.  To our left was the volcano Concepcion, the top was shrouded in smoke and steam but it hasn't erupted for 50 years.



Concepcion, Ometepe Island



We dodged cows, horses, buses and bicycles in the 80 minute journey.  We were unable to dodge one dog though and we drove right over the top of him, you could hear him running underneath the truck, which was a beat up Landcruiser, and then he shot out the side and ran off into the woods.  This was too much for the Austrian couple who started screaming Stop! We have to see if he's ok!  The taxi driver just continued on until the woman yelled Estupido!  The taxi driver hit his brakes, stopped the car and in Spanish told them to get out, he wasn't stuped, the dog was.  i translated into German for them and said you can get out here or appologize to the driver.  Looking at the endless jungle in all directions they suddenly decided he wasn't so estupido and we continued on, but the driver was chapped.  We dropped the couple off and he asked what country they were from, I told him and feel quite certain Austrians and perhaps anyone speaking German will never ride in his cab again.

The last 6 kilometers of road were rocked and rutted and gave us a taste of what the road must have been like 8 years ago, before it was paved.  The driver said it used to take an entire day to crawl across the island.  Finca magdalena looks like an old plantation farm from south Carolina.  Big covered porches and tiny little rooms surrounded by jungle.  We're at the base of Maderas volcano which is so extinct there's a lake at the top, but I still don't trust it.  As dusk settled in we walked down the road to a restaraunt we had heard about, Cafe Campestre, and tucked into a delicious meat lasagna and a chicken pasta.  Amazing food and the salad was all grown on the island.  As the sun set the howler monkeys began to scream from the tree tops and I was thankful for my feeble little headlamp, and that they didn't throw their poo at us.