Nicaragua, Nicaraguita Part 3: Home, Home on Ometepe

From Corn Islands we drove to Ometepe Island, a land mass comprised of two twin volcanos centred in Lake Nicaragua, the largest lake in Central America. The way the volcanoes dominate the land reminds me of the Petit Prince, on his planet. Although he had three, not two, volcanos. 

Cue the tunes. You have two choices for this post. For traditionalists, there's Ometepe by a Enrique Mijia Godoy. For those who like the National, there's Hard to Find, because a visitor and National fan wrote in the comments that they listened to this sone every night while walking the island's dark streets returning to their hostel after working on their farm co-op. 

Reader's choice.

Here's a rundown of our visit to the tune of Home, Home on Ometepe ...

1. Where a ride's always waiting...

To get to Ometepe you take a pretty rough ferry. But first, you need to buy a ticket. At your first visit to the kiosk, you will be told there are no spots on the ferry. So you will return an hour later and one will have opened up. Or not. Just come back in another hour. If it is a really busy weekend (as it was for us), you'll likely have to take the late ferry and navigate Ometepe's pitch-black roads in the dark.

But despite any setbacks, you will, eventually, get here. 

And you will be very happy.

VannyBoBanny boarded on the ferry, ready for departure.

2. And the stallions are playing...

One thing to know about Ometepe, beyond it not having street lights, is that there are very few fences. So while you drive around the one ring road that loops around the island, you will need to be on watch not only for dawdling hippie tourists, but also for horses running wild, chickens making for the other side, and slow but deliberate cattle walking the yellow line.

Cow in the middle of the road.

Fun fact: when we asked our host, Fernando, why there are so many horses loose on the island, he said that locals use them in the winter, but let them loose to graze all summer to keep costs down. None of the horses are branded because if the police find them loose, they'll capture them and fine the owner. But only if they can identify the owner. Horses are cheap (supplied via government program), but Nicaraguan fines are reportedly not. So the horses are for all intents and purposes, free for the summer until they're pulled into work when needed.

3. Where sunset's the place to be...

Fernando's place, Valle des Volcanes, had a two-story cabana that was at the time rented by a Canadian family. Outside was a large field for our van, a volleyball net, several discarded balls from the Canadian children, as well as the requisite six or so dogs. One of the dogs belonged to the Canadians, a son of a local dog. When the Canadian dog got depressed, Fernando was worried he was sick, but the Canadians just said he missed his mom. So as soon as they fetched her from her local owner to visit, the puppy recovered. True story.

There was a garden in the back where you could see the monkeys fight over the mangos, and peer into a kiddy pool filled with water and lily pads in the hopes of seeing the tilapia fish Fernando was raising (he'd received them courtesy of another government program). 

In the shared kitchen, there was always an endless supply of plantains from the garden, which Ferdinando would boil up to eat with his beans, rice and Nicaraguan cheese. 

(Aside: When we asked a Nicaraguan what type of cheese it was, she shrugged and said that in Nicaragua, there are no types, just cheese - whatever happens to have come out of the cheese making process that morning.)

Our first night at Fernando's, we made way too much naan, so decided to share with Fernando. We were fast friends after that. 

That yeast worked a naan miracle in the Nicaraguan heat

Fernando and I in his colourful kitchen

The van in Fernando's lot

The two best things about our camping spot? First, Fernando. Second, we had a one minute commute to the best dock on the island for seeing the sunset. I know you've seen a lot of those in these posts but this one I swear is worth seeing. Truly lives up to the hype.

Tourists (mostly European) gather on the dock for sunset.

4. And the sharks once roamed free ...

The island's two volcanoes form a figure eight-shaped landmass, and between them runs a maze of shallow swampy channel home to rare water birds and freshwater fish. We rented local kayaks and set out to navigate our way between the swampy greenery that looked rather like overripe cabbages.

Heron

Leading the exposition

The route through swampy mess

There once were sharks here too, Fernando told me. Only there were so many that they ended up eating too many fish, which left not enough food to support the island. So Nicaragua made a deal with Japan. They could fish Ometepe's sharks for shark's fin soup - provided they built a wee bit of much-needed road infrastructure. (Our van thanks you, Japan!) 

But the lake is big, but not ocean big, and so it didn't take long for the efficient Japanese fisher folk to run out of sharks. Rumours are that there are still a few around, and a google search confirms  that Lake Nicaragua is the only lake in the world with freshwater bull sharks. So there's likely truth to Fernando's tale.

As for the roads the Japanese built, they're doing pretty well. Plus this fish appear to be back (we crossed a few local fisher nets in our travels). So I suppose Nicaragua got a good deal out of that one.

Kayaking towards Conception volcano.

Stork in the waters.

Some heron-like bird.

And a surprise iguana!

A man, a beer and a volcano.

Shore leave.

5. Where the climb up is steep ...

Our third day on the island, Fernando confessed - he'd never climbed one of the two main volcano hikes - the Volcan Maderas - even though he'd lived here for years. He'd done Volcan Conception - the one you see in all the photos, a steep climb with unrelenting sun (and whose peak had been covered by clouds since we'd arrived). But he'd never done the inland jungle walk up to the smaller Maderas with its famous crater lake.

So he put on his motorcycle boots and we set off.

Ivan, Fernando and I at the trailhead.

It was steep, like every volcano. And there was a lot of swearing because I kept hitting my head on the trees that had fallen over the path. (There are clearly some disadvantage to the sun-sheltering trees for those of us lacking spatial awareness.) Plus many VERY slippery mud patches, which proved particularly precarious on our way down. And so, so, so much mud.

The most dangerous part, though, was the capuchin monkeys. We ran into them on our way up the hill. Like all the monkeys here, they tried to scare us away by waving tree branches at us. Only one monkey hadn't realized just how big a branch he'd grabbed and threw a massive branch the size of Ivan's thigh out of the trees. It landed with a crash only inches in front of Fernando. 

"I think even the monkey was surprised at that one," he said.  

"I don't think he meant to hurt you," I said.

Fernando didn't look so sure.

View of the island from the path.

Giant cane toad on our path.

View roughly halfway up.

To get a sense of the narrow passages.

And the mud. I was covered with it.

Just one of many tunnels.

The reward! The crater lake as viewed from the peak. 

We made it to the top where two women from Argentina were looking down at the lake eating refried bean paste on baked corn crackers - a delicious if revolting-looking snack. Then we headed down and a full four hours later made it back to Fernando's place.

6. And paradise and pests hide in the deep ...

I felt the hike in my calves the next day, and so Ivan and I went to relax in the island's cool, freshwater pools, Ojo de Agua (translates to eye of the water).

To be honest, I wasn't expecting much at first. To get there you had to go past many gringo-styled, healthy, hippy smoothie shops offering organic, artisanal chocolate and yoga before you got to the entrance. Once inside the resort, the change rooms were full of tiny, relentless flies that kept settling on any wet skin they could find, layering like coal dust. 

But once you got to the pools - paradise. 

Ojo de Agua

The adult pool surrounded by giant trees.

Coolest, freshest water we'd experienced in Nicaragua.

The natural spring water was cool, refreshing and clean, rimmed with natural rocks. As we swam, we were surrounded by giant trees dripping elegant laces of moss, and all you could hear (beyond the splash of tourists) were birds and the gentle thrum of cicadas.

That was a peaceful end to our trip to Ometepe, and almost the last of our adventures in Nicaragua. But not quite. 

We had one more treat waiting in store for us before we left ...

Ivan eating Nicaraguan street food called Quesillo (little cheese), a corn tortilla wrapped around cheese and onions pickled in black vinegar, topped with sour cream.

7. And the border's patrolled by crazy cows all day !

We decided to spend the night near the border before attempting crossing, as we'd been told it was a bit of a marathon to cross into Costa Rica. 

So, after getting questioned by a teenage soldier with an automatic rifle on his shoulder, we arrived at a small ecolodge called Blue Morpho that accepted overnight stays in vans. 

Inspection by our teenage soldier.

When we arrived, there seemed no one at home, so we walked up the steep drive to a hilltop house where we met the caretaker, Joseph. He seemed concerned, and kept asking us in Spanish if we'd happened to see a cow. I thought I was mishearing him, but he soon assured me I was not.

Entering Blue Morph ecolodge

"Vaca loca", he explained, "crazy cow". Then he told us to wait up by the house while he lured his attack cow into her pen.

We couldn't see the raging cow anywhere. So we took some seats near the lodge and watched Joseph search the property, calling and clucking to lure the beast. Then Ivan, hearing a noise, turned around to look behind us. And there she was -  Vaca Loca - peering her head around the side of the building. 

You never saw two grown adults duck for cover so fast in your life.

The cow did not attack, however. She sauntered down the drive and barely made a noise as she was penned. But her pen was just behind where we were parked, and all through the afternoon she kept giving us stink eye, just chewing and staring and chewing some more, never moving her gaze from us or our van.

.

Vaca Loca

The most amazing part of Blue Morpho, though, was waking from an afternoon nap to watch a band of howler monkeys do gymnastics in the forest of trees just over our van. 

Howler monkey

And another

Can you spot them all? Ivan has a video I'll post to Instagram once I catch up.

Local bird with the coolest feather on its head.

Blue Morph at sunset.

That night, we ate a dinner prepared by Joseph. We requested chicken, not beef. (Definitely not having cow after an afternoon being stared at by Vaca Loca)

Our meal prepared by Joseph and family.

A plate of perfectly cooked vegetables and chicken breast with mashed potatoes arrived at our beautifully set table. It was the best meal we had in Nicaragua, no word of a lie - except perhaps the one prepared in Corn Island. Cannot recommend the local chefs enough in this country, and suggest you visit Blue Morph if ever you're in town - and don't have an intense fear of cows.

The next day it was up early for coffee, a pep talk, and a paper and passport check. then we were off to the infamous Nicaraguan-Costa-Rican border. 

Leaving Nicaragua

Meet you there next post!