After hours on all sorts of different transport, he eventually reached Granada. A quint colonial town resting on the banks of Lake Nicaragua. The city was once home to the notorious William Walker from America. Will's, an early version of the modern day mercenary, had the bright idea of taking over the ENTIRE Central America from his Granada base. He actually managed to become president of Nicaragua before his ultimate demise & execution by the Honduran goverment in 1860.
He had been on the road for 5 weeks now. By choice, he had always enjoyed the solitude of the open road. However, when the opportunity for relaxing with fellow vagabonds presented itself, he decided to accept. Although we travel to disappear, the thought of engaging in things familiar can prove to much of a temptation. As Oscar Wilde put it, 'I can resist everything, except temptation'. He had long held the theory that travelling in groups would weigh him down, inhibit his natural inclination to dissolve into the local fabric. He allowed himself just this once to swerve of his chosen path, just once he promised himself. So he followed the herd, & silently allowed himself to enjoy the ease & simplicity. Granada was worth the 3 days spent, he even got some Spanish classes under the belt. He knew that although he's Spanish was good, good may be a strong term in this instance, having a better understanding & larger vocabulary would only benefit him in the long run. San Juan del Sur was the next stop. Only 1hr from Granada & situated on the Pacific coast line, San Juan had gained a reputation for making travellers change there schedules due to staying longer than they planned. Many conversations would inevitably include, 'I came for 3 days & I stayed for 3 weeks.' With her care free anything goes lifestyle, I could see why that line was mentioned constantly. Her beach, although not much, reflected the mood of the guests. Warm, welcoming, hot. With boats moored in the bay & cafe's lining the waterfront, it would have been an insult not to take it all in. Even Jesus was in presence. Situated above the town, he was pointing to something. What exactly, we don't know. Maybe he was warning people too go, before it was to late. Too late, to stop themselves from falling in love with this place. And we all know, never fall in love on the Jersey Shore. Many did, 'we came for 3 days & stayed for 3 weeks.' The hostel Pacha Mama would be his home for the next few days. Those days felt more like a constant dream. Images of watching the breaking dawn on nameless beaches with crazy Australians, giving refuge to homeless traveller's, catching rides in overloaded jeeps & going days without running water. It all seemed to have been blended together, like his favourite smoothie he would enjoy every morning at the beach front restraurant. Another name he had forgotten. It was the only one that had water. He had started to indulge himself in the comforts of others. He even went on a island trip with his new companions. Ometepe, derived from the Nahuatl words ome (two) & tepetl (mountain), is the largest volcanic island inside a fresh water lake. With his new companions in toe, they hired scooters to explore this hour glass of an island. They would eat up the road on there new steel hogs. They even wore bandanas to complete there motor gang attire. This first night found them arrive at a hostel that had mosquito's intent on eating them alive. They decided that even if it meant driving in the dark for a while, they would find safer harbor. With a new day & some good food had, they set off to see what the island had to offer. Besides the volcanoes, the islands long stretches of open flat roads allowed for the bikes to be opened up. He felt as if he were taking part in the 'Isle of Man' TT race. Not quite Giacomo Agostini, but he could dream. With wind sweaping his face & local farm life wandering around, he was in his element. He even put on some music. Freedom at that point, had never felt so good. Little did he know, this would be one of the last times he would be able to listen to music. He wouldn't stay long though, 2 nights was all he allowed. The reputation of San Juan was no false one. He found himself going back for one last night. Only one he promised. The night in question also coincided with a beach fiesta. The entire place had come alive, even for San Juan. He thought of New Year's eve when he was young. Parents & there kids all just out to enjoy the night. There smiles were infectious. He had regained his focus though & would keep his promise. He had broken a bigger promise though. Never go back to a place. Never. His experience should have shown. He lied to himself in believing that going back, even for one night would be ok. Things are never the same, once you leave a place you should never return. Having this romantic idea that things will continue as if you had never left is for fools. When travelling, it's best to have fleeting moments of pure pleasure. Trying to chase down that feeling will prove a fruitless exercise. And so it would prove. It wasn't the same, not even close. The circus he had entered was uncanningly similar, but also uncanningly strange & unfamiliar. His fleeting moment had come & gone, as he should have done. Silly boy indeed. The border to Costa Rica beckoned. Costa Rica was always going to be an expensive excursion. As he crossed the border, little did he know just how expensive it would be.
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