Afternote on packing

WARNING: LIST IS NOT COMPLETE

While it's still fresh in my mind I thought it might be useful for the future trips (which there WILL be, lots of...I have to keep telling myself to keep my spirits up) and maybe for someone else too to go through my packing list and see what was useful and what I'd do differently.

Clothes:

• 1 pair of black trousers/shorts with legs that zip off (VERY useful)
• 1 pair of comfy beige cotton trousers (great)
• 1 pair of "respectable" looking dark green linen trousers (looked great before the trip but not so good un-ironed, so wouldn't take with me again)
• 1 pair of black under-the-knee-cotton "capris" (great)
• 1 yellow dress (not very dressy, used a couple of times, could've done without it)
• 1 green vest top (great, could've done with another one as well)
• 1 red sleeveless summer top (great)
• 1 normal t-shirt (ditto)
• 1 yellow cotton short-sleeved shirt (my favourite)
• 1 dark blue "baggy" cotton t-shirt (great for bus journeys and hiding the money belt)
• 1 turquoise cotton shirt with collar and long sleeves (cheap make, lost its shape after 1st washing so didn't use much)
• 1 "going-out" polka dot sleeveless top (which took no room in the bag and was allowed for that reason only!)
• 1 green soft cotton kaftan-style long sleeved top (great until it got ripped in laundry)
• 1 snuggly purple hoodie (my only 'jacket' and it was priceless)
• 4 pairs of underpants (I'd take more next time, they really don't take much room and it's a pain to keep having to wash them all the time)
• 1 pair of good-quality hiking socks (moisture-absorbent, worked a treat)
• 2 pairs of normal black socks (1 pair would've been enough, only used on the flights!)
• Hat (priceless)
• Silk pyjama trousers + old T-shirt for sleeping in (good choice)
• Worn black jumper that is thin (i.e. doesn't take much room) but still warm (used a couple of times at night plus on airplanes and was grateful for it)
  
• Hiking boots/trainers (fab)
• Flip-flops (made a mistake of taking a brand new pair with me which ended up rubbing my feet so badly I had to throw them away and buy another pair)
• Soft leather black ballerinas (fab)
• Pack-away rain jacket (came in handy too)
• Short sleeved rash-vest for surfing (next time I'd take a long sleeved one to protect from the sun)
• Surfing shorts
  
• Bikini
• Swimming costume
  

Equipment

• Mosquito net (used 3 times, would take again and made me wonder why they are not more widely used in Finland???)
• Sleeping bag liner (more a luxury item, not really needed but sometimes it was nice to have my own 'sheets' when the hostel ones looked a bit manky)
• Inflatable travel pillow (good for the bus journeys)
  
• Dry-fast towel (what a great invention)
• Water-bottle (plastic ones are just as good. I lost mine and didn't miss it)
• Head-torch (best thing EVER)
• Padlock (used both for luggage and hostel lockers, a MUST)
• Fits-all-doors-lock (didn't use once)
• 1 money-belt (good, used mainly on bus journeys to keep in money, passport and cards)
• 1 neck-wallet (bad, as so bulky it's way obvious to make any difference - ended up never using it)
• 1 purse (for keeping spending money in)
• 1 pink document wallet (came free with Marie Claire a few years ago) - good for storing flight details, travel cheques, travel insurance papers, hostel booking forms etc
• Camera
  
• Sturdy camera case
  
• spare battery (one of my better ideas!)
  
• spare memory card (was definitely needed)
  
• USB memory card reader (such a useful little thing)
  
• camera battery charger
  
• old mobile phone (which didn't work at all in Central America)
• phone charger
• adapter
• mini sewing kit (was needed when my bag burst)
• 
  
• 
  

Books and publications

• Lonely Planet Costa Rica (next time would go for another brand of travel guide - found LP a bit rubbish)
• Lonely Planet Nicaragua & El Salvador
• LP New York encounter (has the worst & most inaccurate maps ever)
• The Island by Victoria Hislop (ok, but nothing speacial really)
• Jaguar Smile by Salman Rushdie (still haven't started it...)
• The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo (started about 3 years ago and once again failed to finish it...)
• The Notebook by Eeva (which I sadly lost a week into the journey)
• Research International pocket diary (waste of space, although I used the world map in it once to point out Finland)
  
  

The Streets of New York

Granada - New York - London

I wake up in the middle of the night and realise that this is it, my journey had come to an end. I take my bag and close the door behind me. The little pool is glittering in the moonlight, no-one else is up yet. In the distance, I can hear loud snoring. It's the night guard who was supposed to make sure I was up. That's one thing I've definitely learned here: never trust the hostel's 'wake-up call' system...
There's me and another lady waiting for the airport shuttle to pick us up at 4am. She's an old acquaintance of mine, we already met in Ometepe where we shared a taxi once before. I'm so used to bumping into the same people now that it doesn't really surprise me anymore.
Five past four, no sign of the shuttle. Normally I wouldn't think anything of it, but bow I'm getting very nervous. We don't have a lot of time to wait. If it doesn't show up, there's no alternative either at this time of night.
I go to wake up the guard, and manage to express my worries to him. He shrugs, and says to give it 10 minutes.
10 minutes later, still no shuttle. It's now 4.15am. The American lady wants the night guard to do something about it. Of course, he doesn't speak English and doesn't have a clue what she wants him to do. Luckily I'm practically fluent in Spanish by now: Senor, telefono paxeos, por favor. Aeropuerto, (hand signing for an airplane taking off), a la seis!
He makes a phone call. It's on it's way. And soon we hear the brakes shrieking outside. The driver looks embarrassed. He's determined to make up for the lost time, and what follows is one of the most exciting car journeys ever. Me and the American lady are hanging on to the seats with both hands, as the driver shoots down the highway. As there's hardly any traffic, he makes the most out of it. We pass a few horse drawn carriages, nearly knocking one of them down. There are lots of people on the side of the highway waiting for a bus, or just someone to pick them up. There are more and more of shacks built on the roadside as we approach Managua, the capital of Nicaragua. It's a very poor town, often cited as one of the most dangerous in the world. I remember reading about regular robberies on the road leading to the airport. Well, there's no way anyone will be able to stop this car, that's for sure!

We make it to the airport in plenty of time. As soon as I step inside the terminal building, I leave Nicaragua behind and step to the world of an anonymous, spotlessly white airport, that could be anywhere in the world. It's hard to believe that just a few hundred metres away there are people living in so much poverty, and here the cheapest thing on the duty-free is a Toblerone bar costing $2.50. That would probably buy a week's worth of food to a family. I feel guilty when I buy that Toblerone bar and some Cuban cigars ($5) with the last of my cordobas. I wish I'd thrown the money out of the window on the way to the airport.

I don't like this world of spotlessly clean white tiles, people in suits and elevator music. I miss the hustle and bustle of the streets in Granada. I sit down near my gate and feel an overwhelming sense of sadness. I have to find a ladies room and have a little cry. I can't help the tears. I don't want to go. I'm not ready yet. I sob away in the toilet cubicle when I hear a few people walking in. Ok, I have to pick myself up now. I wait for them to leave so I can wash my face but it turns out that they're two air hostesses who've come to the ladies to gossip and to do their make-up. About 20 minutes later, they're still there and I'm still in the cubicle too embarrassed to come out now. The situation is getting rather comic, and at least I'm not crying anymore.

I can't wait for much longer if i want to make it to this flight. In the end, I have to come out. They give me some strange looks, which in all honesty I deserve.

I watch the dry land, the mountains and the lakes disappear in the distance, until I'm in the clouds.

I change planes in the George Bush International airport at Houston, Texas. Welcome to the United Sates of America, a friendly immigration offer tells me in a broad Texas accent. I get images of him in a cowboy hat riding a horse in an oilfield (yes I obviously watched too much Dallas when I was little).

Soon I'm standing in the middle of Manhattan, feeling completely surreal. I hang on to Minni's sleeve while Tero confidently navigates the streets, and I'm happy I'm with people who will do all the thinking for me until I've recovered. People everywhere. The lights of the Times Square make me blind, and London's own little Piccadilly suddenly seems laughably small in comparison. This is more like Tokyo.

Talk about a culture shock.

But it's strangely cool. Also strangely familiar. We've all been in New York already, though the countless films and TV series set there. And it really is like in the films. The taxis are yellow, although more polished than the ones I remember from the Taxi Driver.


There is steam rising from the ventilators on the streets, and there are amusing 'no standing anytime' signs everywhere. The buildings have fire escapes in the outside, etc, etc. And then there are the skyscrapers, that make Canary Wharf feel like a joke.



It doesn't take long for me to get back to my old consumer/fun-minded self, and as I'm knocking back Manhattans in a bar a few hours later, Nicaragua seems a distant memory.

Except that I'm finding it difficult to get rid of the habit of throwing the toilet paper in the bin next to the toilet. It took me a long time and a few blocked toilets to get the hang of it in Central America, and now that I'm finally doing it automatically I have to try hard to forget it again...

New York was amazing, but three days didn't do it justice. I saw Moma, Central park, wandered the streets and visited the bars and restaurants of Greenwich Village, Meatpackers distict, Willamsburgh. Spent a lot of time in the Moma shop. Saw a lot of orthodox jews. I never made it to Brooklyn Bridge, nor the Empire state building, nor the Statue of Liberty. Oh well, there's always the next time.



The depression started sinking in as soon as we touched ground in Gatwick. It could be worse, it could be worse, I kept chanting. I live in London. London is cool as well. It's not as cool as New York, fair enough, but there are worse places I could be returning to.

Still, it's never exactly fun when the holiday is over and one has to get back to reality. When you have to think about the 'normal' things in life again, such as BT bills and cleaning rotas and food shopping and work and college and the future beyond the next two days.

Maybe I'll start a London blog, and pretend that I'm still on holiday. I need to fall in love with my home city again. I could make my life a one big adventure.

Watch this space.

Adios

Granada - Laguna de Apoyo - Masaya

I´m now averaging about 10 hours of sleep a night. I fall asleep within 5 minutes of going to bed. It doesn´t matter if it´s hot, or if there´s a little bit of noise. I sleep like a baby, and it´s great. I´m sure it´s all a direct result of no stress whatsoever. Life is good when the hardest choice you´ve got to make is what to have for breakfast and which new place to discover next.

Granada is beautiful. It´s an old colonial town, and some parts of the city have been fully restored, lots of colourful buildings. But the buildings bearing the full signs of the past few centuries - all the earthquakes and the civil war - are the the best.

Inside the buildings, there are shops that sell everything you don´t need, and some very dodgy looking hot dog places. People go on about their daily life, children sleep under the display tables while their moms gossip with the ladies from the other stalls. At some parts of the city the pavement is so crowded with sellers that you have to walk on the main road, and try tyo avoid the cars, the motorbikes and the horses. It seems like horse-drawn carriages are still the main mode of transport for many Nicaraguans. If only it wasn´t that damn hot, you could walk around for hours and hours just letting it slowly sink in. But it IS damn hot, probably in the high 30s C...

I escaped the heat in the afternoon by packing a light overnight bag and taking the shuttle to a lagoon nearby. It´s a lake formed inside an old crater, and what a stunning place it was. I stayed in a gorgeous house called the Crater´s Edge, run by a lovely Canadian woman called Ann.

Straight away I took a dip in the lake. They have a cool little floating dock, and a bar right by the water. The dinner was served at 6.30pm under the stars, and I noticed that the only other people staying there were three couples. Ann lit the candles on the tables, it was so romantic - I´d gate-crashed a honeymoon heaven. Fucking fantastic. Two of the couples swiftly sat on their own tables. I was just about to reach to my Lonely Planet for some company, when Christi and Greg appeared and sat down on my table. Aah bless them! They were a really cool couple from New York and not even on a honeymoon. We drank the night away and I got lots of good tips for my New York trip. Things always seem to work out ok.

In the morning I woke up with the sun. One of the walls in the room I was sleeping in was open and it had a view to the lake, so I saw there was something special happening and got up and walked down the stairs to the lake. It´s not often that I get up at sunrise, but it´s more than worth it. The lake was even more beautiful than in the daylight, and I could hear the wildlife in the jungle going wild. (Wildlife going wild? Must think of a better metaphore...)

The moment passed quickly, and I went back to bed, and slept for another couple of hours, got up for a lovely three-course breakfast (fresh fruit for a starter, bread, eggs, cheese and salad for a main, and two types of home-made cake for a pudding, flushed down with three cups of coffee).

I could so get used to this, I thought, when I dived into the warm but refreshing volcanic lake afterwards.

But it as all good things, it had to come to an end. At midday, me and the New Yorkers caught a chicken bus to Masaya, a town famous for its artisan market about 45 mins away.

I shopped until I dropped, then had a faboulous veggie burrito in the best Mexican restaurant in Nicaragua (according to the bible). It was yummy, and I finished the whole grande burrito. Can´t say the same about the strange drink that I ordered, having slightly gotten lost in translation.

Exhausted from the shopping, eating and the heat, we caught a taxi back to Granada and Oasis again. I took another quick walk around the town, and thought about my approaching departure. I didn´t really want to leave yet. There´s still so much to see. But one thing is for (almost) sure - those places will wait for me. I say almost, as Nicaragua gets distroyed every now and then by earthquakes, so there´s always that little chance that a place won´t be there anymore when I come back.

My time here is up, for now. New York is waiting - if I make it to my early flight in the morning that is - have to get up at 3.45am. I´m just going to have one more beer and lie down in a hammock, while I still can. Actually, that should be possible back home as well, in theory. I bought a gorgeous hammock today, now just need to think where the hell to hang it in London.

Adios, Central America. You´ve been very kind to me. No robbings, no killings, lots of lovely people and bizarre experiences, one very uneven tan, a thousand memories.

Hasta luego.

How to climb a volcano

San Juan Del Sur – Isla de Ometepe (Nicaragua) - Granada

On Friday night there was a big party at the hostel . In the morning two guys were kicked out for breaking the rules, dismissing the night guard’s pleads for silence and keeping everyone awake. I slept through all of it. Poor Will and Claire didn’t, and they had to get up early to catch a bus to Ometepe. I didn’t go with them as I wanted to take my time and do laundry etc, before heading to Ometepe.

I walked around the town, there was some kind of art fair in the park and live music. And random monkey people.

I got a 15-min neck & shoulder massage for 60 cordobas - that´s about 3 dollars. It did the trick. I had some lunch before catching a local bus to Rivas. So one of those ex-American yellow school buses again (or "Canadian Blue Bird", as it says on the bus) . I need to take a photo at some point... It´s always such a painful experience that a photos are the last thing in my mind when I´m on board! And did I mention that such thing as gentlemen or manners really don´t exist here when it comes to fighting for space in the bus? Young men are quite happy to sit down and let the old ladies to stand, people don´t queue, they push, and slapping seems to be generally accepted as a means of making room. Then there are the sellers who get on at every stop, push their way up and down the aisle trying to sell ice, sweets and lots of unrecognisable food items as well as other crap. Fair enough, they need to make their living somehow, but it´s hard not to think that if the bus is jam packed as it is, please don´t even think about it!!! ...There are separate shuttles for tourists but they cost about 15 times more. Local buses are so cheap here. The 2-hour journey to Rivas was 15 or 20 cordobas I think - so less than 2 dollars.

Rivas was a horrible place. I got off the bus, realised that I didn´t actually have a clue how to get to the next point. The bus station was chaotic, dirty, noisy - not a sort of place I wanted to spend too much time on my own. I couldn´t spot any other gringos around, nor taxis. Oops. Finally someone approached me. "Taxi? taxi?" Obviously not licensed, but I did what a responsible traveller would never dream of doing and just hopped on.

Luckily he didn´t rob me and I got to San Jorge, where I had to catch a ferry to Ometepe, in less than 10 minutes. He did brutally over-charge me, but it was still less than a taxi driver would charge for starting the engine in London.

Ometepe looked beautiful in the distance.


On the ferry journey I was reading a local newspaper in English, and learned a bit more about the Finland-Nicaragua relationships.


It was an hour´s ferry journey, and I finally stepped on the volcanic soil of Ometepe at about 5 o´clock in the afternoon (there was some waiting around as the motor was broken). I ´d sort of made a plan to go to a certain place on the island, but my plans changed again at the last minute as I was talking to an American woman who lives on the Island. I decided to head to a backpacker resort called Hacienda Merida on the southern part of the island, and was very fortunate to share a taxi with three others so it wasn´t too expensive.

Ometepe is an island in the middle of Lake Nicaragua consisting of two volcanoes, shaped like the number 8. The ferry arrived on the top left side of the upper loop, and I stayed on the left hand side of the lower loop.

By the time I got to Merida it was already pitch black. I was feeling very tired and was happy to pay a couple of dollars extra for my own room - well it was a dorm but no-one else was staying there. Actually it looked like no-one else had been staying there for a very long time - it was a bit dusty and there were quite a few spider webs scattered around. No surprising really, as the building was kind of half-open and we were in the middle of a jungle. I had a shower anyway, and as I came out of the shower I spotted a huge hairy spider under my bed. Or it could´ve been a scorpion. What ever it was, I didn´t like the look of it AT ALL, and I´m not usually that fussed about the creepy crawlies. Suddenly the thought of being alone in this room for the whole night didn´t seem that attractive anymore, and it didn´t take me long to downgrade to a shared dorm with about 10 other people.

After dinner it was time to decide what to do on the following day. There are a few things to do on the island, one of which is hiking a volcano (one of which is active). One of the volcanos (Conception) takes at least 10 hours to get on the top, and the other one (Maderas) less than half of that. But it´s very hot (think 40 degrees C) and very steep, and according to the book tourists die on the climbs every year. So climbing a volcano was one of the activities I´d already decided definitely NOT to do.

So don´t ask my why and how, but within 15 minutes I´d signed up for a volcano hike. The "easier" one though (Volcano Maderas). What the hell. If I was to die here, at least climbing a volcano would be a cooler way to go than being bitten by a tarantula.

There were a few people at the camp who´d done the climb that day, and the girls I spoke to said it was the worst thing they´d done in their lives, and it was just madness. Apparently at first it´s very hot, then you get to the cloudforest where it´s a bit cooler but it´s full of insects and you get covered in ticks. It gets very muddy and towards thew end you need to use all four limbs to climb up the steep wall, to reach the top, from where there is no view whatsoever - it´s all covered in clouds. Hmmm...

It was five of us doing the climb, so we psyched each other up and got up at 6.30 in the morning to get ready. We had a nutritionally balanced breakfast of porridge, granola, fruit and coffee and packed our bags with snacks and water. We had two guides booked, and off we went.

The path was very rocky, and the ground was dry. We started the incline, and it had started to get hot already. I was chatting to a Swedish girl Sofia. My right foot slipped under the rocks, and I fell. Nothing bad, nothing serious - if only there hadn´t been a barbed fence to keep the cattle away on the side of the path. As I fell, I instinctively reached out my right hand, and hit the fence. Autch. There was a bit of blood. It hurt. I could see a deep cut on the right hand, just under a finger.

That was the end of my volcano climb.

I was in a shock a little bit and felt dizzy. After sitting down for a few minutes and talking to the guides I decided to turn back. It wasn´t even a huge cut, but I needed two fully functioning hands for the climb, and it just wasn´t going to happen now. Hand wrapped in tissue paper, I turned back and returned to the camp.

I felt shit. Someone kindly cleaned the cut and bandaged it, and I started to think of alternative things to do. But I didn´t want to do anything else. I wanted to climb a volcano!

From my hammock I watched a couple of boys packing their bags. They were going to hire a sailing boat to take them to the mainland, but they needed one more person to be able to do it. I couldn´t leave yet, surely not - I´d only been on the island for less than 20 hours. But I was over Ometepe by now. I was graving civilization. Sailing out straight to San Jorge with two blokes seemed like a much more attractive option than waiting until the morning to make my own way - a 3 hour bus journey followed by the ferry.

I ran to pack my bags. Cheerio, Ometepe and your stupid volcanos!

It was to be a three-hour sail to the mainland. A three-hour sail on a beautiful, hot sunny day sounded like the best idea I´d ever had. I had this picture in my head of sunbathing on the deck, feeling free as a bird.



I´d always loved sailing. I´d never been sea sick in my life.

There´s a first time for everything.

It was a small boat, and a very big lake which had bull sharks in it. The boat was rocking quite a bit. I´d just had a cheese sandwich, and as the boat nearly capsized a couple of times (or at least it looked like it) my stomach started turning.

I went to lie down in the cabin, and didn´t get up until we reached San Jorge.

Oh well. We made it to Rivas and me and one of the guys continued to Granada from there. It was another hot, sweaty and bumpy school bus ride, standing up for 1, 5 h, but was so happy to be on solid ground again and felt great.

We checked into hostel Oasis and I treated myself to my own room with a big, comfy double bed. The hostel was AMAZING. It truly was a little oasis.


I had a quick dip in the cute little pool they had and bumped into a couple of Dutch girls from SJDS. We went out for dinner (pizza, not my choice but it still tasted damn good, and did I mention the ice cold beer?)

Sampled some local rum with a bunch of Dutch people, and slowly but surely I started to get a feeling that I´d had a very lucky escape. Maybe one day I´ll climb a volcano, but it wasn´t my time just yet.

Surfing, beach, surfing, bruises

San Juan Del Sur

Two beach days behind.

Surfing here is amazing. Just picture this. A bus picks you up from the hostel at 10am and takes you to the Maderas beach.


It´s a very bumpy ride of about half an hour, but so worth it. There you can hire boards for 5 USD. It´s a beautiful beach break and it only takes about 10 seconds to get to the break - none of that walking for miles with a heavy board... The waves are about 2-3 foot, lovely waves, some surfers in water but never too crowded. When you feel like a break, there´s a "bar" on the beach selling cold beer and other drinks for 40p each, and the catch of the day grilled and served with rice, salad and fried plantains for $5. Or a bag of roasted cashew nuts for 10p.


There are lots of little crabs running around on the beach, and it makes very good entertainment. Ok, it´s a bit windy, the sand is blowing to your face occassionally, and the sand gets very hot at midday so it´s a bit painful to walk on it, but still, it´s pretty much a paradise.


aahh... but all this comes with a cost. That is, now after two full days on the beach and "surfing" , I look like I´ve been severely beaten up. Thursday was a very good day surfing wise, the waves were nice and gentle, lots of good long rides. I was using a 9ft longboard at the beginning and then changed to a 7"7 NSP (my all time favourite!!) and it was FUN! Friday was a lot rougher, and I made a mistake of taking the big and heavy longboard which definitely wasn´t a good choice for the massive and fairly choppy waves. After a few near-death experiences I gave up the longboard and changed back to the NSP, but the damage was done... I should really take a picture of my legs as they´re definitely a sight on their own right!

I´ve been hanging out with Claire and Will and some Dutch girls, it´s been really nice and chilled out. Bumped into the American bloke from my few days in San Jose, he invited us to a pool party at this fancy hotel on the hill. We went, and left very quickly after one drink. That place was just wrong! It just didn´t belong here. Not a 5 star resort like that, full of annoying drunken Americans, in the middle of so much poverty.

It´s funny how I keep bumping into the same people in random places... The three Aussies I was hanging out with in Puerto Viejo went gliding past me in a canoe in Tortuguero, and then we met again in Monteverde, on a ticket counter. When we departed in Puerto Viejo, everyone´s plans were still up in the air, so it was pure coincidence that we happened to go to all the same places... It was really nice to catch up again.

I´ve been so good when it comes to partying... well, I haven´t, at all. I´ve been such a little old lady on this trip. I get so tired by 9pm that staying up, not to mention going out, is completely out of question! Last night Sara the Dutch girl (she´s really sweet and just 19!) made us dinner and we shared a bottle of wine. I was up until 10pm, which is probably my record... I´m so sad. But I´ve been sleeping like a baby, 9 or 10 hours a night usually, regardless of the noise around me.

Leaving SJDS today, heading to Isla de Opetepe. My sunburnt face and bruised legs will thank me for that. I think another day on the beach would´ve killed me!

Arrival in Nicaragua

Monteverde, CR - San Juan Del Sur, Nicaragua

Wednesday morning. The night guard at the hostel I´d bribed to give me a wake up call at 4am never showed. Luckily, this time I woke up for the alarm clock (after a night of very patchy sleep) and made it to the 4.30am bus. It took 2 hours to make the 40 km or so trip to the highway, as the bus stopped every 5 mins and the road was, to put it mildly, absolutely shite. Me and two other travellers (an English couple) got dropped off at La Irma, and watched the bus that the two others were supposed to get go straight past. This was the earlier Nica Bus that I didn´t get a ticket for when I´d bought it on the previous day, so I knew I had to wait for an hour for the next one, but these poor guys were not impressed, especially as the guy who sold us the bus tickets in Monteverde swore that the bus would definitely stop there and even wait for us if we weren´t there yet.

After an hour and a half´s wait, we saw another Nica bus approaching, and literally jumped on the road to wave. It stopped, and some 4 hours later we were on the other side of the border. It definitely wasn´t the luxury bus that we´d been sold tickets for, but at least it got us to Nicaragua. I had a nice lady sitting next to me, from Bolivia, who worked in Nicaragua for the Danish embassy. She spoke really good English and it was nice to chat to someone "local" in depth. She painted a very depressing picture of Nicaragua though and mentioned that Finland gives them a lot of money, but nothing ever improves because of the corrupted government. So stop wasting your money on Nicaragua, suomalaiset. :-)

Crossing the border wasn´t a massive hassle as a guy from the bus sorted it out for us. All we had to do was to work out how to get to San Juan Del Sur, which was all of ours final destination. Luckily there was an American guy on the bus who lived near SJDS and helped us all to get off the bus at the right junction and then catch the local bus. Now THAT was a proper local bus. It was basically an old American school bus, one of those yellow ones, that have seats measured for children. Not that we got seats though. The heat was getting unbearable, but just seeing all the smiling school children getting on and off made it worthwhile. I kept reminding myself that this was still better than Northern line in the summer. At least there were some people smiling!

San Juan Del Sur is a smallish town on the Pacific coast of Nicaragua, supposed to be good surfing. We checked out about 5 different hostels in town (they were all horrible) before settling for dorm beds in Casa Ora, which was the best of a bad bunch. I was still with Will and Claire, the English couple. The rest of the day was a bit hazy as I was so tired from getting up at 4am. It felt like I was suffering from a jet lag, even though there was neither a jet nor a lag involved in my journey. At one point I left my money belt with all my money, passport and credit cards lying on my bed as I went out. Luckily Will spotted it in time. At that point I decided that a siesta was probably a good idea.

The heat in San Juan Del Sur was just something else. Coming from cool Monteverde, it was especially hard to adjust to. In Costa Rica is was green everywhere even though it was supposed to be the dry season there as well, but as soon as we crossed the border everything went dry, dusty and yellow. The wealth differences between the two countries are really noticeable, and I think I had a bit of a culture shock. The first couple of hours here, I hated Nicaragua. It was a bit like crossing the border from Finland to Russia - those of you who´ve done it will know what I mean.

In the evening we went to get some dinner at one of the restaurants on the beach. We just caught the sunset, and all of a sudden I fell in love with Nicaragua.


I had lobster at the restaurant, washed down with a glass of vino blanca, which came to about 6 pounds. It´s generally really cheap here. A beer in a shop costs 37p, and in a restaurant about 70p. Main courses are usually about 2-3 pounds. The dorm bed cost 6 dollars.

It was an early night for me again, and I passed out within seconds of climbing to my upper bunk bed.

Touristy moments in Monteverde

San Jose - Monteverde

Saturday night in San Jose. I had my most expensive dinner to date: Pizza Hut delivery service. It was 9.30pm when I realised I was starving and it was the only place that was still doing deliveries. It cost me 8 quid. I so am living the high life here.

On Sunday morning I was still undecided on which way to head. I had several options: To take the scenic route to Nicaragua via San Carlos and do the 10h ferry crossing lake Nicaragua to Granada, but as the boat only goes twice a week I would've been very restricted with my schedule. This was what I's been planning to do all along, but the longer I've been on the road the more I've realised that plans are made for changing. I stlll wanted to see the Pacific side of Costa Rica as well, but at the last minute I decided to hop on a bus to Monteverde, 5h bus ride north of San Jose in the mountains. Before I left I went for a drink with Jorge, a Mexican guy from the hostel. We ended up in an Irish pub, and I made him to order fish and chips. Very Costa Rican!

Is there anywhere on this planet that wouldn't have an Irish pub?

Unexpectedly, I really enjoyed the bus ride, even though the bus was nowhere near as comfortable as the one I took to Puerto Viejo. The scenery was great, and I had a lovely ice cream at the roadside service station. Coming up to Monteverde there was the most amazing sunset.

Stepping out of the bus I was greeted by cool, fresh mountain air. I was actually quite shocked by how cold it was. Well, it must have still been about 20 C at least, but it felt soooo cold compared to the San Jose heat. It`s amazing how quickly your body adjusts to the temperatures, even my body...

I checked into Pension Santa Elena, where I'd reserved a dorm bed earlier that day. Did a bit of socialising with some very nice and some less nice (i.e. very annoying) Americans, before crashing to my bed at about 10pm.

On Monday morning I got a bus up to the Santa Elena cloud forest. Cloud forests are what Monteverde is famous for. This place was a sleepy little Quaker settlement until the 70s, when the National Geographic did a piece about the cloud forests and suddenly everyone came flooding in. Well, the Yankees mainly, and now this place is practically North American. It`s definitely the most touristy place I`ve been to in Costa Rica so far, but luckily the forests still remain as beautiful as ever. They`re all protected and much like elsewhere in CR, made into national parks. This country is actually one big national park, apparently about a quarter of the whole country is protected.

Walking into the Santa Elena cloud forest was like stepping into a fairly tale.

It was truly magical, a huge, enchanted forest and I wouldn`t have been surprised if the trees had suddenly started talking to me. There were lots of old men with big hanging beards and a dancing girl.

I`ve never been much of a tree-hugger, but there were a few old fellas I really wanted to hug. (yes, I think I`m losing it...) I saw a couple of tapirs as well. After a 2-hour hike a was completely exhausted, as it was mainly uphill so it was physically hard.

In the afternoon I went to supermarket and bought some food for the first time in 2 weeks. I`d developed a massive craving for a cheese sandwhich whilst hiking and none of the ready made one seemed that appetising so I made my own. They have a cheese factory in town (now you see why I like this place so much) and I bought some local cheese, it was delicious.

I`d booked into a sunset hourseride and at 4pm we got taken to a rancho and I hopped on a very appropriately named horse, Tequila. He was beautiful, if a bit lazy, but it suited me fine as it was only my 4th time ever horse riding. It was only me, the guide and another girl and both of them were experienced riders so it was up to me to adjust quickly.... The guide was a bit mental (his friend who we bumped to rode standing up... I can only be glad he wasn`t my guide!) but it was kind of good for me as he really pushed me to my limits - he even made us to do a galloping competition. Three actually. The first time was really scary. I just hang on to Tequila for my poor life and prayed silently. The second time was really scary. The third time was really scary, but I loved it. I lost all three, and I blame lazy Tequila. Obviously nothing to do with the freaked out jockey (is that what they call them?). Coming up to 6pm the sun was setting over the mountains. It was just breathtaking.

I`d moved to my own room at the hostel and even had my own bathroom. The life of luxury! Had a great shower (I`ve had so many cold and horrible showers here that a good one is defnitely worth writing about...) and went out for a posh Italian dinner with Ellie the other girl I was riding with. My posh Italian dinner with a starter, main and a huge glass of wine came to 10 dollars. The plan was to go for a few drinks with the mental horse riding guide but by 8.30pm we were both ready to hit the pillow.

This morning I did a very long tour around an organic coffee plantation and mill. I now know all there is to know about coffee. And something that I`d been suspecting for a long time was confirmed, regarding Starbucks. I really hate their coffee, and think it tastes like shit. Well, as we were explained about the grade A and B coffee beans that gets separated I asked what happens to the brade B coffee. I`m sure you can guess the rest. So they buy the low quality coffee for pennies and sell it to you for a lot of money. You`ve been warned!

This is my Amelie moment digging into the barrel of freshly roasted coffee. Mmmmm....

I bought some lovely organic Monteverde coffee to take home so you`re all invited to sample it once I get back.

In the afternoon I finally gave in and did the famous canopy tour. That`s basically 12 ziplines over the cloud forest, REALLY high, some of them REALLY long, i.e. over 600m. I wasn`t going to do it initially (being all older and wiser after my disasterous bungee jump) but everyone I met kept raving about it. It was actully good fun, but I wouldn`t recommend it to anyone scared of heights...

I`m catching the bus at 4.30am in the morning to get to the highway, and then hop on to a connecting bus to Nicaragua. My time is CR is nearly over, but I`m looking forward to Nica a lot.

I`m so so worried that I`ll sleep in again... Wish me luck. Thanks for reading. x