hostel hospitality

Nicaragua is by the far the most backpacker friendly country I have ever been to. In every city we´ve traveled to, there have been cheap and helpful hostels, where we have met tons of nice, like minded, young travelers. The vibe amongst hostel-stayers is really quite unique. Unlike many other non-Western countries, the foreigners actually acknowledge each other's presence and say hello in the streets, offer travel advice, etc. It feels like we are all apart of an adventure and positivity seeking community, temporal although it may be. The notion that this solidarity amongst traveling youths may travel home with us in some capacity is so inspiring in reassuring.

The roughing it attitude of most of the travelers seems to be catching on. Mel and I are taking the cheapest routes possible, because the struggle to stay cheap is just so much more fun. We´ve stopped going to restaurants for all our meals and just buy fruit off the streets and make peanut butter sanwhiches. I do believe a stark low point in the trip has been trying to make sandwhices using a bic pen as a knife...whatever gets you by.

After the second day of surfing, my body just about closed down operations. This sport is so exhausting! And my arms are frustratingly short so getting the paddle speed it takes to really catch teh waves was difficult indeed. Not to mention that Mel ended up with a bruise the size of a frisbee on her stomach.

So we headed off for Isla Omotepe, or the island of two volcanos. Volcanos Concepcion and Maderas stand next to eachother on the same teeny island. Becuase Conception, the larger of the two is still active, fumes spew out the top creating a constant cloud flow around its opening. And if you are close enough, you can actually see the fumes slowly creeping out and away. Truly, its one of the most amazing natural wonders I have ever seen. We ended up hiking up Maderas, which is much more managable at 1,400 meters. Well I say manageable, but by the end of it my legs were a quivering mess and my exhaustion made me feel some kind of stoned.

I had considered myself predestined to be a great hiker, being a New Yoker and all...False. I initially was getting incredibly frustrated with the whole process and wanted to turn back. But applying some brethwork and meditation brought me up and down that mountain and I couldn´t be more greatful. It was so incredibly redwarding to get to that viwing point after all that hard work.

Our hostel on Isla Omotepe is also a farm, where they grow organic coffee. There are a bunch of Western volunteers working on the farm in exhcange for hammoks and meals. Interestingly, I found most of the volunteers were Americans, whereas in San Juan most people were just traveling and were more frequently from Europe or Canada.