Yesterday morning I’m on the bus, dozing, when I’m woken up by horrible screaming from the back. Full of images of every scary movie, I turn around. There’s a guy in the back with a pig in his lap. The pig doesn’t like busses, and is telling the man so. Why is the pig on the bus? My Spanish has gotten better but doesn’t begin to approach a conversation that starts with, “Sir, why is there a pig?”, so it will remain one of the mysteries of Nicaragua.
When we parted in Ometepe, I exchanged emails with a friend I’d made there in case we ended up heading to any of the same places. A few days later it turned out that he was headed to Popoyo beach, which is next to Guasacate. When I was on my way to San Juan Del Sur a couple weeks before, I met a guy from San Diego who lives in Guasacate and who’d told me that Popoyo was the best spot in Nicaragua. It was on my list, so my Ometepe friend and I met up in Southern Nicaragua and started the adventure of getting there. After fending off an army of taxi drivers, we got on the right bus where a Canadian nurse with a lot to say about everything helped us find the right place to get off. We were on a road that looked like it could easily lead to nowhere, and at times like that it’s great to have a travel buddy: A local teenager toook us on a shortcut around some salt pools: And finally we ended up at a postcard-perfect beach at the end of the world: In this quiet town with ocean-water taps, the detox of American life finally broke. I had come to Nicaragua with no plan, a desperation for passport stamps, and no clear idea what I wanted to do with my future, hoping that it would be a place to reset so I could make better choices. It has been exactly that. New travel plans already in the works. Check back soon! Love you, Adam