The Carribean Coast of Nicaragua

We left Leon about a week ago to make the long journey up to the Corn Islands off of Nicaragua´s Moskito Coast in the Carribean.

This was no easy task. We left Leon Saturday afternoon, and 4 buses, 1 boats, and 2 days later we were on the Carribean coast, in the port city of Bluefields. Then we got on a boat that we thought was taking us to the Corn Islands. This was not the case. We arrived at Bluff, a nothing port town with one resteraunt and one hotel. At least the hotel was pretty cheap. We walked around the entire town and the beach in about the hour. The most exciting thing that happened was meeting a drug addict turned evangelist on the beach who tried desperately to convert Tori. Stew was a lost cause, apparently. He did tell us that the town was supposed to become a major port for the Soviets, but this was undermined by a hurricane and a counterrevolution. Thus, the town has nothing. Oh well, it wasn´t too bad for a night.

The next morning we returned to Bluefields to try to get to the Corn Islands once more. This time, we got more accurate information about how to get there, though we had to wait around a day for a boat. Damn Bluff. Bluefields was interesting in that it´s a city totally different from any other central american city we´ve seen thus far. Most people speak english with an island twang - weird grammar, strange vocabulary, and words from other langauges are liberally mixed in. Spanish was much easier to communicate in than English, which was wacko. Finally, we weren´t gringos, just ¨whitey.¨ Also, no one serves tortillas with meals on the Carribean coast. This came as a quite a shock to us, but thankfully tortillas were replaced by tostones: deep fried salty plantains. They rule. In fact, they own tortillas.

After two boring days waiting on the coast trying to get to the Corn Islands, we caught a boat to Big Corn Island. We woke at 6 to get in line for tickets at 7 so we could sail on the 9 a.m. boat. Sometime after 8 they started selling tickets and it was about then that it started to rain. I guess that´s Island time for you. Only the rain shows up consistently. The boat ride was uneventful, unless you count thunder storms in a tiny shaky craft in the middle of the sea eventful. We felt like sissies for feeling so miserable, until we realized the coast guard officers on the ship were puking. Then we felt like badasses. To be fair, half our nausea may have been caused by Gustavo Leyton. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k7vwBoiZea0&feature=related We watched this for an hour of the six hour hellcruise. Around hour two, we decided to fly back to Managua. One good thing about the trip was that we met some great people and bonded. Gustaf and Anna, our new best friends from Sweden, made the trip very enjoyable and along with John and Kim from Chicago joined forces to reap the Corn Islands.

We decided to stay on Big Corn after the ride, which turned out to be something of a mistake. It was still pouring rain, so we grabbed a pizza and a beer with the Swedes. By the time we got to a hotel, Stew´s bag was soaked and smelled like a wet dog that had been skunked. and then left in an unplugged refrigerator. Tori smelled a little bit better. Everything on Big Corn was super expensive, so we made macaroni and cheese on our stove before retiring at 8.

The next day we woke to rain again. Tori said ¨This is a miserable island.¨ Then the sun came out and we all had fun playing in the beach. Tori took back her maldigas. We made stew with Anna and Gustaf before heading out to Little Corn on a much shorter and very fun panga or sweet little motor boat that jumps four feet out of the water and smacks your rear like a frat boy at initiation. Little Corn doesn´t get rain as much, because it is better than Big COrn. It is also cheaper and prettier and allegedly has better scuba diving. Which is also cheaper.

We shared a room with Gustaf and Anna at Hotel Sunshine, owned and operated by Dustin the Redneck Texan, a title he proudly bears. The hotel was cheap and great, though the mysterious smell in the bathroom confounded all. We suspect this was what caused the swedes to get a cabana on the other side of the island, five minutes away. Maybe it was the snoring.

There is basically nothing to do on Little Corn, which is great. We spent the mornings swimming and reading in the sun, hiked in the afternoon rain, cooked meals in our hotels rockin kitchen, played pool and drank cheap beers at our hotel, talked with travelers about other great destinations, considered diving but rejected it because we are cheap and wanted to save money for our plane tickets to buypass brownfields. We did go snorkeling one day with the swedes and had a great time. It was pouring rain, which is pretty cool to see from below the water. If you´re wet, you´re wet. It´s an old Pollock family proverb that ¨water is wet.¨

One night, we went out to a Cuban restaurant for a great dinner. There is no ATM, so we pulled the ¨friendTM¨move where you pay for everyone elses meal and make them pay you in cash. This works well until the rain takes out the credit card machine and they won´t let you leave the island till you leave them a check and everyone is thoroughly confused about the payment. Actually, it worked well enough even then because we got a great meal and had enough money to leave. And may have gotten a free meal. By the way, Bank of America, we definitely did not write a check on this island.

Today we flew to Managua (way too much money but way better than getting back on that boat or the 9 hour overnight bus tour through theft town) and three hours after leaving Little Corn, we were in Granada. It is like a prettier rainbow version of Antigua on a lake. We´ll investigate this further tomorrow. For now, dinner.