San Juan del Sur

The ferry from Ometepe to San Jorge, then a cab to San Juan del Sur. Our cab driver didn’t know where the place was, and neither did we. After asking a few people in San Juan del Sur, we discovered we were actually staying in Playa Madera, down a crazy road. The cabbie tried to rip us off, I negotiated down and he dropped us off at the bottom of a wicked hill that sucked to walk up with all our stuff.

We stayed at a really cute place, Buena Vista Surf Club, in what B nicknamed “the bat maternity ward” or “the bat cave” because he said it smelled like bats. I could smell nothing in our cute thatched roof “tree house” but we both did have some weird itching, swelling of the lips (so hard to kiss!).

The beach was a steep hike down that hill, which was so awful mainly because the gravel was loose and it was quite easy to slip. We were beat after our traveling, so we chilled on the absolutely amazing deck and watched the sun set and read. I lent B “The Count of Monte Cristo” which I had devoured before meeting him, and he couldn’t put it down. I was glad he liked it, but I realize Dumas has his attention until he’s done with it. Right now, I am sure B is reading it.

BVSC had a communal dinner, which was filled with quite yummy food and conversation. After dinner, we chilled a bit more, then headed to our treehouse. We slept good as the howler monkeys were fairly quiet that night.

I woke up early and went running with one of the other girls in another treehouse. We ran on the beach and struggled with the steep hills as well. After, B and I did yoga with a yoga teacher on the deck – the deck with a view of the waves, the sky, trees. It was one of the prettiest places I’ve ever done yoga. I kept looking during asanas at the waves, which helped steady my balance many times.

BVSC had a communal breakfast, which was outstanding. I preferred it to the dinner. They served pancakes, scrambled eggs, fruit, yogurt, granola, toast, cereal, and other things, and yes, we ate them all. After breakfast, we decided to rest a little before heading to the beach.

I ended up having a wicked scary asthma attack. My breathing did not feel good for hours, so I sadly decided not to surf (esp after my bad time surfing in Malpais/Santa Teresa). We chilled out for a bit until I felt strong enough, then we headed down to the beach. We swam, read, walked and B taught me abt tidal pools. We watched hermit crabs run around the sand – they’re so cute.

Another communal dinner, reading, writing, another night of sleep in the Bat Cave. The morning repeated itself: running (this time, alone on the beach), yoga on the rooftop deck, communal breakfast. I rented a board and headed out to the waves. Feeling nervous, I mostly played in the whitewater, which was fun but I prefer the real waves. B and I talked abt why I’m so scared now and he recommended maybe I take another lesson (even though I know how to surf) to rebuild my confidence. I think I will, or else see if a good friend will help me out (like Shawn!). We ate lunch on the beach, with yes, 6 drinks for the two of us. I was tipsy only for a little bit.

“Are they watering these drinks down or have we developed an immunity to Flor de Cana?” B wondered.

Sadly, I told him I think we were building up an immunity. My tolerance for alcohol has skyrocketed. What I drink now without feeling anything would have me very, very drunk a few months ago.

After an outdoor shower and a little more reading, B and I hopped in a cab to Managua. Our cab driver was really nice, and stopped for me at a grocery store (I wanted to try to find the often-elusive delicious Trits, two sugar cookies with a thin layer of chocolate sauce, ice cream, and whipped cream around the edges), and I got us all ice cream in Masaya.