Matagalpa (pictured, with Alia), in Nicaragua's northern highlands, was the next stop on our trip. A two hour mini-bus ride from Leon, Matagalpa sits at an altitude of approximately 680 metres, giving it a much cooler and hospitatable climate.
The cooler mountain air combined with some German knowhow (they really do seem to know EVERYTHING) last century combined to make this area the centre of Nicaraguan coffee and cocao growing country. Unfortunately earlier than expected rains last year meant all the coffee had already been picked, so there was no point visiting any of the coffee farms, a key objective of our trip there. We did manage to see the coffee bean drying process as we entered the town (beans laid out on large plastic sheets), and we also enjoyed a full dose of the sensuous aroma of the beans being dried in nearby factories. It was like living in an open-air cafe, minus the cafe-latte sipping set staring at their latops and Macbooks.
The mountains surrounding Matagalpa gave it a pleasant aesthetic, and much of our time there was simply spent wandering around its streets and a few of its museums, incluiding the home of leading Sandanista resistence fighter Carlos Fonseca. Politics remains important to many people here, particularly with an election due in November this year.
Matagalpa gave us a small taste of what authentic Nicaragua is like. Whilst considered a slightly well-off town due to the revenues gleaned from coffee and cocao, it remains down to earth and honest. A night having a beer and a meal at one of the local establishments hightlighted this, with plenty of locals, from older men in cowboy hats through to twenty-somethings in trendy garb, all there doing the same. Numerous guitar-carrying men would wander around each restaurant table, offering to play any one of the seemingly endless list of Nicaraguan classics, songs which appeared to speak of loves lost or gained, or of passions ignited by patriotism. Or were they singing about pickup trucks, women and dogs? Couldn't really tell but I just chose to imagine the former. Either way, their music, often accompanied by a deep and melodic voice, formed a soothing background to the happy chatter emanating from the numerous patrons kicking back with un litro de Tona (beer) or a NIca libre (rum and coke).
While we were in Matagalpa we took a chicken bus an hour north to the small town of Jinotega. There isn't too much to see or do in Jinotega itself but the hour or so bus ride through the mountains made the trip worth it. 
Much of the original jungle remains intact in these parts, largely due to the coffee crop requiring a canopy under which to grow. The bus ambled up the recently improved road, through tiny villages and past humble abodes, with well-tended farms jutting in on the steep slopes amongst the tall trees. When the tree canopy parted there were stunning views to the west and north, where distant volanoes still managed to loom large.
Much of the original jungle remains intact in these parts, largely due to the coffee crop requiring a canopy under which to grow. The bus ambled up the recently improved road, through tiny villages and past humble abodes, with well-tended farms jutting in on the steep slopes amongst the tall trees. When the tree canopy parted there were stunning views to the west and north, where distant volanoes still managed to loom large.From Matagalpa we took an express chicken bus (yep, this little chicken really flew) to the central town of Masaya, where we ended up staying for three nights. Masaya itself sits above a large laguna of the same name, with the water filling the cone of an extinct volcano. Whilst the views looking away from Masaya were impressive, the sights within the city itself weren't overly charming. Yes, it had some relatively nice churches and plazas, and the main market (the city is famed for its artisans) was pleasant, yet for the most part the city reminded me of how lucky we were to be from Australia. There was plenty of poverty on display, and if I were a vet I would have felt compeled to euthanize the entire dog population, so bad was their health.
The town's main calling card is the volcano of the same name, which sits in a national park loacted 10km outside of town. An active volcano, Alia and I decided to visit the sulphur-spewing cone on a night tour in the hope of seeing lava. And even though we were to see just the reflection of lava (the lava was 90 metres below the su
rface, although its glow was easily visible through a hole inside the cavenous cone) it remains a highlight of our trip. We also managed to walk through a lava tube, and to partially enter a cave filled with bats that circled just centimeters from us.
rface, although its glow was easily visible through a hole inside the cavenous cone) it remains a highlight of our trip. We also managed to walk through a lava tube, and to partially enter a cave filled with bats that circled just centimeters from us.Next stop on our trip was the colonial town of Granada, the country's showpiece. After a short chicken bus from Masaya we were greeted by a tranquil and well-groomed town. Churches dominate the small skyline, as does the nearby Volcan Mombacho which we had already glimpsed the night before from atop Volcan Masaya. The town sits adjacent to the 8000 sq km Lake Cocibolca and overall retains a stately feel to many of its streets. The main square is stunning, the town's main cathedral on one side, the other three sides bursti
ng with the yellows and whites of well-maintained homes, restaurants and shops. Its market area remained rough and ready, although if anything that just ensured Granada hadn't become too big for its rustic boots.
ng with the yellows and whites of well-maintained homes, restaurants and shops. Its market area remained rough and ready, although if anything that just ensured Granada hadn't become too big for its rustic boots.A highlight was the nearby town of Catarina, from where you can soak up an impressive view of Laguna Apoyo (another large extinct volcano cone filled with crystal clear water which sits between the towns of Masaya and Granada), Volcan Mombacho and Granada. An easy day trip from Granada, both the view and quaint town of Catarina made it time well spent. We both enjoyed Granada but found we had had our fill of colonial towns, so any chance to get out of town was taken with relish.
San Juan Del Sur, a small town set amongst the rolling hills of Nicaragua's southern Pacific coast, would absorb the next nine days of our trip. Much of this time wasn't spent undertaking the usual pursuits in these parts, these being surfing and drinking (not necessarily in that order). Instead, we studied Spanish for seven days (four hours each day) at the excellent Spanish Ya school, under the guidance of the excellent teacher Juanita. I would rate this school higher than the one we studied at in San Pedro, if only due to Juanita - she pushed us harder, but never to the point that you couldn't understand what was being taught, and she maintained a good balance of speaking versus writing. It was the first time that I felt within sight (OK, a distant sighting, but a sighting none the less) of one day conversing fluently in Spanish. Yes, we both still stutter when speaking Spanish, and we can't have overly indepth conversations with locals, but we know quite a deal more now than when we set foot in Mexico in December.
We also had a few swims whilst in San Juan Del Sur, a dip in the ocean a refreshing change from the heat of Masaya and Granada. And 
with our relatively modern and comfortable three-bedroom apartment including a shared kitchen, living area and balcony, we also enjoyed the company of various fellow-travellers. Although San Juan Del Sur is a gringo town if ever there was one, it retains a dignified and graceful air - the gringos haven't destroyed the place. Maybe that's due to the large number of returees from North America who live here, people who have a vested interest in keeping the place 'small' and quiet. Of course, life in one of the youth hostels may have yielded a different opinion but for the most part we didn't experience too much evidence of gringos partying excessively. Or did this old bastard just go to bed too early? Well, I did have Spanish in the morning...
with our relatively modern and comfortable three-bedroom apartment including a shared kitchen, living area and balcony, we also enjoyed the company of various fellow-travellers. Although San Juan Del Sur is a gringo town if ever there was one, it retains a dignified and graceful air - the gringos haven't destroyed the place. Maybe that's due to the large number of returees from North America who live here, people who have a vested interest in keeping the place 'small' and quiet. Of course, life in one of the youth hostels may have yielded a different opinion but for the most part we didn't experience too much evidence of gringos partying excessively. Or did this old bastard just go to bed too early? Well, I did have Spanish in the morning...From San Juan Del Sur we then headed an hour or so east to La Isla Ometepe, an island set in Lake Cocibolca. What makes this island special is the two volcanoes - one active, one not - at either end. Volcan Concepcion, the active volcano, is 1600 metres high and, reportedly, has the most perfectly shaped cone of any volcano in Central America (a Nicaraguan told me that so please take that with a grain of salt). At the other end is the 1400 metre Volcan Maderas, on whose jungle covered flank we spent our first night. But before we even set foot on the island we faced the full fury of Lake Cocibolca's surprisingly large swell - in a rather pathetic excuse for a ferry. I think a rowboat in the middle of the Pacific Ocean would have had a smoother run; our boat was swept up and down the lake's large waves like a toy. Occasionally the residue of a large wave would wash over us as we clung to our seats, which were unfortunately located on the side the wind and swell were coming from (we wondered why those two seats were still free when we boarded). At one point I was seriously plotting out my route past the 40 or so other passengers to get one of the only seven lifevests on board, stowed in the vessel's ceiling - with my height I thought that at least gave me a better than average chance of beating most of the (short) locals to one. And hopefully two, as the first would, of course, be for my dear wife Alia.
Ometepe, home to just 30,000 people, is a wonderfully tranquil and natural island, largely made up of farms and natural forests/jungle. We spent our first night at a farm cooperative
that also operates a hostel - Finca Magdalena. The view from the Finca of Volcan Concepion (see picture)was wonderful, particularly at sunset, and adding to its appeal are the 2000 year-old (or thereabouts) rock pictographs that lay on its property. We decided against climbing either of the volcanoes, both of which are apparently grueling ascents (and descents) - plenty of heat, mud and wind (on the tree-less top of Concepion).
that also operates a hostel - Finca Magdalena. The view from the Finca of Volcan Concepion (see picture)was wonderful, particularly at sunset, and adding to its appeal are the 2000 year-old (or thereabouts) rock pictographs that lay on its property. We decided against climbing either of the volcanoes, both of which are apparently grueling ascents (and descents) - plenty of heat, mud and wind (on the tree-less top of Concepion). We departed Finca Magdalena after one night (whilst it was a great spot for views, the accomodation, in an old barn, wasn't the best) and walked the 5km to 6km to where we are located now, in a small and basic 'hotel' (really just two buildings with three rooms in each) literally on the eastern shoreline of the island. With its own small beach we can take a swim in the lake's warm waters, and we were close enough to walk the three kms to Ojo de Agua (eye of water), a mineral-infused natural water spring set amongst a stunning jungle setting. We enjoyed the day there yesterday (Mond
ay), lazing about and jumping into the sparkling blue waters every so often. We've tended to walk here on the island, as the bus service along its often rocky roads is sparse, and because we haven't been able to walk with as much freedom elsewhere in Central Americ as we're constantly warned about the potential of being mugged. With our hotel here in between towns, the walks from the restaurants we've eaten at for dinner back to here have been a tad edgy - walking into a black void with only the howling winds and waves thumping into shore as our company - yet the stars are amazing, perhaps the clearest I've seem them on the entire trip. Suffice to say it's a quick walk though, as we don't risk hanging around too long.
ay), lazing about and jumping into the sparkling blue waters every so often. We've tended to walk here on the island, as the bus service along its often rocky roads is sparse, and because we haven't been able to walk with as much freedom elsewhere in Central Americ as we're constantly warned about the potential of being mugged. With our hotel here in between towns, the walks from the restaurants we've eaten at for dinner back to here have been a tad edgy - walking into a black void with only the howling winds and waves thumping into shore as our company - yet the stars are amazing, perhaps the clearest I've seem them on the entire trip. Suffice to say it's a quick walk though, as we don't risk hanging around too long.We have one more night on the island before we take an eight-hour bus trip from the nearby town of Rivas to the capital of Costa Rica, San Jose. We spend the night in San Jose (this Wednesday) before taking yet another long (14 hour) bus trip to Panama City, from where we catch a flight this Sunday to Peru. I'll update you once there; in the meantime, take care, and thanks for reading.
