Nicaragua: Day 4

This morning in San Juan del Sur, I woke up with a different view. White flowy curtains pulled closed block the morning light and cool air-conditioning blasts our apartment-style suite at Orquidea del Sur. Andi is still asleep beside me at 5:45am, so I quietly slide open the glass doors and sneak out onto the patio. A tray of coffee and creamer awaits me on the table - nice! I pour myself a cup and settle on a lounge chair by the infinity pool. There are worse ways to start the day, that's for sure.

 

Andi joins me a bit later, and together we wake up slowly under a blanket of sunshine. It's going to be a hot day in San Juan del Sur today, I can feel it. This time of year is considered Nicaragua's "summer" dry season. It rarely rains and temperatures reach 90-100 degrees by mid-day. Orquidea's property manager, Joanne, said this area of Nicaragua is experiencing a two-year drought, so native plants and animals like the popular howler monkeys are suffering. It's easy to see why in the dry, dusty fields surrounding town.

Andi and I eventually make our way upstairs for breakfast. We find a table set for two on the outdoor patio and a friendly, eager-to-please server named Eddie waiting with water and juice. He provides us with a list of breakfast offerings included in the daily rate accommodation, and Andi and I both select a typical American-style breakfast -- two eggs, toast, one pancake and slices of bacon. A while later, Joanne joins us to discuss our plans for the day.

Andi pre-arranged reservations on a catamaran excursion departing San Juan del Sur later that afternoon, so we decide to spend the morning by the pool at Orquidea del Sur. Once again, we have the whole place to ourselves. It's quiet, serene and the perfect place to get away from it all.

One of Orquidea's drivers named Francisco agreed to take us into San Juan del Sur around 11:00am. Francisco is positively one of the most genuine people I've ever met, and tries his very best to make Andi and I feel comfortable during our descent into town. He doesn't speak English, so we have a bit of trouble communicating. Andi asks Francisco to drop us off at Barrio Restaurant for lunch, and pick us up again in the same spot around 6:30pm that evening. "Cinco-treinta," he says as we pile out of the truck. Meanwhile, I count to myself in Spanish and tell Andi in a panic, "Crap! Cinco means five. We told Francisco the wrong time!" Assuredly, Andi says it'll be fine. "I gave him the hand signals." Great, Francisco probably thinks we're American idiots.

Barrio is the place Andi selected for lunch, and it's a colorful and trendy restaurant. Town is abuzz with more people than I saw the day before; many who look like they've just awoken from a late night of partying. (It's Noon, by the way. Andi and I have been up for hours.)

We find a table in the back of the restaurant with a cool breeze circulating around us. Andi orders a hibiscus iced tea and I have a strawberry fruit smoothie. I think Tory was onto something the last time we traveled to Costa Rica; my smoothie tastes delicious. Together, Andi and I sit and people-watch; this restaurant is a great place to soak in the sights of town. We decide to split the special of the day for lunch, grilled sea bass with pineapple salsa and rice, and a chicken avocado wrap with fries.

 

I'm experiencing that vacation high only felt after a few responsibility-free days in a new place. The sun is shining, and Andi and I are about to set sail on the Pacific Ocean. Life is good.

We wandered around town for the next 20 minutes or so before our boat is set to depart from the fishing pier. Where are all those beach peddlers selling cashews now? I'm desperate to fill our backpack with snacks before we head back up the mountain later this evening. No luck; we can't seem to find a little store for the life of us, but we do see many brightly-colored restaurants and coffee shops.

Hot and sweaty from our walk around town, Andi and I eventually make our way to the fishing pier. There's at least 20 young beach bums hanging out on the steps of the casino where we're told to meet the catamaran leader. Ugh, is my first impression. I don't know why I'm so annoyed by these hip, cooler-than-me kids but I am. Mostly, it makes me feel old and frumpy.

Together, our crew of 22 people walks down to the fishing pier and puts on over-sized life jackets. In smaller groups, we take turns riding in a dingy to the bigger catamaran anchored in the bay. "Remember that time I booked us on a booze cruise," Andi says with a nervous laugh as we hop aboard the boat. "Screw it," I tell him. "We're on a beautiful boat in Nicaragua, kid-free, and we've got no one to impress. Let's have a great time." From that moment on, I shook off my insecurities and decided to enjoy our day together on the water. While the big group of twenty-somethings crowded themselves on the front of the boat, Andi and I found ourselves a quiet spot in the back. Together, we drank mai-tai's and soaked up the sunshine.

The "Drivin' Me Crazy" catamaran sailed north around San Juan del Sur and eventually made its way to Playa Blanca, a calm private beach perfect for swimming. Once the boat anchored in the bay, the boat host encouraged everyone to jump off and swim to shore for the afternoon. The plan was to stay anchored for two hours before a sunset cruise back to San Juan del Sur.

With an open bar flowing, the party boat was hoppin'. "Let's swim to the beach," Andi said, and jumped into the water before I could argue. The great thing about my husband is that he forces me to try things I wouldn't normally do ... like jump off a catamaran in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. I know how to swim, but I wouldn't call myself a strong swimmer. I realized about half-way into our swim that the actual distance to the beach was twice as far as it seemed. Body, don't fail me now!

I stumbled onto shore, huffing and puffing, as Andi breezily pulled sunglasses from a pocket of his board shorts. "Cool, right?" he asked, nonchalantly. "Yeah, super cool," cough-cough. The beach bums from our boat approached shore with beers in their hands and pool noodles tucked underneath their arms. "There were pool noodles?!" I said to Andi, exasperated.

We sunned ourselves in the sand and eventually struck up conversation with some of the people from our boat. They were from Northern California, and actually really nice people. I told myself to chill out a bit, and put a smile on my face. "Ready to swim back?" Andi asked. I jokingly (okay, not so jokingly) told him to time the waves of the surf waves. "If I don't make it back, I love you," I said to Andi.

We swim back to the boat, and I make it - barely. "I don't think you realize how how close I was to drowning," I tell Andi when we're safely back on the boat with beers in our hands. "Really? I guess you were sputtering a little bit at the end there," Andi responds. We find a spot to sit at the front of the boat and soak in the sun. The rest of the party slowly piles back on the boat, and I continue to be amazed how inebriated people can be so skilled at swimming. The boat host sets out chips, guacamole and ceviche for everyone, and we all kick back to enjoy the view.

    
At dusk, the boat pulls into the harbor and we all pile into the small dinghy back to shore. Francisco is waiting for us at the restaurant and takes us back to Orquidea del Sur. During the 20-minute drive back to our bed + breakfast, we're stopped at a Nicaraguan Army check-point. We're literally on a dimly-lit dark road, and I'm surprised to see anyone. We haven't seen another car for miles. The officers and Francisco converse in Spanish, and I think he's telling them we're guests at the hotel. The officers ask to see our passports, which Andi fortunately had in his backpack, and send us on our way. Later, the resort owner told us the Nicaraguan army does random check-points like that looking for illegal Cuban immigrants. I'm not sure if that's true, or not ...

Anyway, now safely back at Orquidea, Andi and I each take a quick shower to clean up and then enjoy a private, peaceful dinner underneath the stars. Tonight, we feast on dorado and grilled vegetables with a vanilla sundae for dessert. It's the perfect ending to a busy day on the water. Tomorrow will be our last full day in Nicaragua.        

Nicaragua: Day 3

I woke up before the sun on the morning of Day 3, Andi still sound asleep beside me. Quietly, I grabbed my computer and crept through the large swinging doors to our private veranda at Morgan's Rock to take in the peaceful sunrise over Playa Ocotal. Though soon, several pesky mosquito bites (and recent world news headlines about the Zika virus) had me scrambling indoors to watch the day begin from the comforts of our bed.

Our bungalow at Morgan's Rock is by far one of the most luxurious places I've ever stayed. Looking around the room leaves me breathless; the attention to detail and the craftsmanship using local, sustainable woods is beautiful. In addition, the service has been excellent. Andi and I have been waited on hand and foot by friendly, English-speaking staff pleased to make our stay as enjoyable as possible. For once, it's me who gets to sit and enjoy breakfast while someone fetches me a glass of water. I'm starting to realize Tory and Aden don't have it so bad at home.

I've learned I can order whatever I'd like to eat, whether or not it's printed on the menu. Not in an American high-maintenance double shot sugar-free caramel macchiato, soy milk, no whip kind-of way; more like, two eggs, bacon, a side of fresh fruit and toast with pineapple jam is literally my jam.

It's been easy to eat healthy on this trip with fruit and vegetables readily available. I appreciate Morgan's Rock having purified drinking water available around the property and in our bungalow. Not only is it annoying to buy and transport mass amounts of bottled water, but it's also wasteful. Having fresh water available has helped us stay hydrated in the hot Nicaraguan sun.

Check-out time at Morgan's Rock is 11:00am, so Andi and I headed back to our bungalow to plan the remainder of our day. A quick email exchange with the owner of the next bed + breakfast we plan to stay at has us packing our things to catch the hotel shuttle for San Juan del Sur. The driver from Orquidea del Sur agreed to meet us in town to grab our backpack so we didn't have to lug it around while we explored the area.

The 20-minute ride from Morgan's Rock hacienda to the town of San Juan del Sur was as a bumpy one. I'd forgotten how set back in the dry, arid jungle we'd been and even the comforts of an air-conditioned van couldn't keep car sickness at bay. By the time we reached town, I felt hot and nauseous. I urged Andi to pick a spot for us to sit so I could catch my breath, and he selected Restaurant Josseline right on the beach. We grabbed a table overlooking the ocean and ordered two strawberry banana smoothies to take in our first del Sur experience.

A few sips of my refreshing fruit smoothie, and I felt back to normal. During our time in the restaurant, Andi and I couldn't help but overhear (and be quickly annoyed by) a large group of meat-heads from the Jersey Shore seated next to us. Aghast, I wondered what locals think of the American population when they witness foul-mouthed baboons like these guys. I'd never felt so thankful to be staying in peaceful resorts outside city limits. 

Andi paid our bill, and we decided to walk around San Juan del Sur for a bit. We passed dozens of bodegas, cafes and hostels, as well as a beautiful old church in the town square. I love people watching in these colorful community gathering spaces.

Eventually, Andi and I found ourselves back down by the water. Gusty ocean winds worked to un-glue sweaty t-shirts from our backs as we took in the scenic view of fishing boats in the bay. San Juan del Sur's strong breeze is both a blessing and a curse. Without it, the dusty air would hang motionless around us making the heat unbearable. Every once in a while though, it causes Andi and I to wince as strong winds force sand to pelt our bodies like tiny paint balls.

Nicaragua has some of the best beaches in the world, and San Juan del Sur specifically is known as a popular surfing destination. In town, Andi and I feel like un-cool older cousins to most of the young, sun-kissed beach bums hanging around. San Juan del Sur's beach vibe seems less toursity than popular Costa Rican destinations we've visited.

We decided to have lunch in town before venturing to our new bed + breakfast, Orquidea del Sur, selecting an ocean-front table at one of the nicer seafood restaurants in town called El Timon. The moment we're seated, beach peddlers approach our table selling cheap sunglasses, cashews, woven hammocks and pottery. "Chica! Chica!" they shout toward me, displaying their merchandise. I try my best to avoid eye-contact; I just want to enjoy my mojito and the view!

Neither of us are very hungry but we have an hour to kill before Orquidea's driver comes to pick us up, so Andi and I decide to share the surfer's plate of grilled shrimp, fish and chicken with a side of vegetables. The waiter also brings complimentary fried plantains to snack on during our meal.

About 20 look-alike servers are working in the restaurant, but our particular waiter is nowhere to be found. Andi and I continue to be preyed on by beach peddlers while we wait for our check. One young boy approaches our table and slides a flower made from plant leaves onto the table. "For you," he says in perfect English. I can't help smile and hand him a $20 Nicaraguan Cordoba (equivalent to less than $1 USD) for his thoughtful gesture. "Uh-oh, blood in the water," Andi smirks. We pay our tab and leave as quickly as possible.  

Outside the restaurant, Orquidea's driver is waiting to pick us up. His name is Julio and he tells us he's been working at the resort for 7 years. We chat with him about the area during our 20 minute ride into the Nicaraguan hills. The dirt road grows increasingly steeper and bumpier the farther we drive outside of town. Higher our white Toyota Hilex climbs until we finally reach a black iron gate and a welcome sign for Orquidea del Sur. Three big dogs howl at us from the drive-way.

Inside Andi and I are greeted by the warm hospitality of Joanne, the property owner, and her staff. We enjoy a refreshing glass of water while taking in our new digs. The lush, green gardens are beautiful. Orquidea del Sur is the retirement dream of Canadian Expats Joanne and her husband Robert. They built the five bedroom bed + breakfast seven years ago, and work to support the local community by serving as a training grounds for young, 13+ year-old Nicaraguan men in the tourism industry. This is the first real job for many, and Orquidea works to teach their employees customer service skills and the English language. Orquidea's one requirement is their employees remain in school, which is against the local trend. Local children, Joanne informed us, typically quit school and begin working to contribute to their families - or start having babies of their own - around age 13. 

Joanne takes Andi and I a tour of the property, eventually leading us to our apartment-style suite. Inside we find an air-conditioned bedroom with a kitchenette and a sizeable bathroom. 

All I've thought about since laying eyes on the gorgeous infinity pool is plunging myself right into it, so Andi and I grab our Kindles and head there straight away. There's no else at the pool -- or anyone else on the property, for that matter -- so we have the entire place to ourselves. We spend the next few hours bouncing between comfortable lounge chairs, the refreshing pool and the shaded hammock hanging under a thatched gazebo.

 
Later, Andi and I decided to walk down to the beach to watch the sunset. Joanne told us to say "playa" to the house dogs and they'd lead the way. Down the steep dirt switchback we walked, half-chuckling / half-panicking we'd have to trek back up to the top on foot. I joked there was still time to turn around and watch the sunset from the pool, knowing all the while my husband is never the type to shy away from an adventure.

Would we ever make it to the beach? We began to wonder, but eventually the road opened up to the breathtaking site of the sun setting over the Pacific Ocean.

 

Once again, Andi and I had the entire stretch of beach to ourselves. We watched the perfectly round sun drop below the water and hundreds of tiny hermit crabs migrate along the golden-colored sand. The sound of roosters crowing, along with the crash of ocean waves, filled our ears. We'd better get a move on Andi and I thought, before all the sunlight disappears and we're left navigating the steep dirt road in the darkness.

Andi and I were dripping in sweat at the end of our hike. Good thing we had no one to impress, and nowhere else to be for dinner. We walked through the big wrought iron gates and discovered a table set for two underneath the stars. What a sight! I felt like we were in a movie.

Before we'd left for the beach, one of the wait staff asked Andi and I what we'd like for dinner that evening. There's no set dinner menu at Orquidea, so Andi requested lobster and I asked for grilled chicken and vegetables (again). The house chef, Joanne and Robert's daughter Sara, did not disappoint. Our plates were filled with delicious food.  
 

 
For dessert, Andi and I moved to comfy chairs on the patio and split a vanilla sundae with sprinkles on top. The air temperature dropped into the mid-80's with a cool breeze swirling around us. Our day ended as peacefully as it began.

Paradise!

Nicaragua: Day 2

Andi and I had one objective on our first full day in Nicaragua: to disconnect and enjoy. Really, it would be challenging to do anything else as the warm ocean breeze and crashing waves signaled the start of a perfect day.

My internal alarm clock is set for 5:45am no matter if I'm on mom-duty or not, so I quietly rolled out of bed as not to wake Andi and tip-toed to my computer waiting on the desk. For the next hour or so, I wrote about our travel adventures and took in the beautiful view around me. I've never seen Andi sleep as much as he has on this trip. I think he might be catching up from months and months of missed time. With nowhere to be, I let him rest and enjoyed the rare peace and quiet.

Around 7:30am, Andi and I got dressed and walked down to Morgan's Rock restaurant for breakfast. Getting there requires descending (in this case) the hillside via many, many sets of stairs. It's not so bad until I remember what comes down must go back up. Achieving my daily Fitbit goal for stairs is no sweat in this place. Our walk to breakfast also takes us over a scenic hanging bridge with views of the Pacific Ocean. There is another route but it requires taking, you guessed it, more stairs.

You'd think we would've encountered the restaurant's breakfast rush, but Andi and I were two of only a few guests there. Solitude is one of the things we've discovered we like most about this hacienda; with 15 bungalows on property, there's hardly anyone else anywhere we want to be. It feels like our own private paradise.

Over breakfast we sipped La Cumplida coffee, grown on La Cumplida Farm. The owner of the Morgan's Rock eco-lodge also owns and operates this coffee plantation in the northern part of Nicaragua. Andi and I each ordered meat and vegetable omelets, served with the typical plate of homemade corn tortillas and rice and beans. We also shared fresh fruit, yogurt and to-die-for lemon muffins. Yum!

After breakfast, Andi and I walked down to the beach where we had the entire stretch of sand to ourselves. Laying on comfortable beach chairs under a thatch of straw seemed like the perfect way to spend our morning, but I was itching for a little adventure. Morgan's Rock offers free kayaks to use in the estuary on property, so Andi and I walked down the beach to check it out. A employee helped us drag a kayak down to the water and together, Andi and I paddled off into unknown territory. No worries about safety though, Andi had to get out and push our kayak a few times to prevent it from dragging on the river bottom.

The landscape was surely beautiful. When our arms grew tired of paddling, we headed back to the beach and parked ourselves under a canopy with overlooking views of the crescent-shaped bay. There we sat, or laid rather, until lunchtime.

In the span of one morning at the beach, I finished a book I've been slowing reading through for several months at home. What a wonderful gift to have the time to sit, relax and read. From my lounge chair, I also watched Andi tackle giant 6-foot waves with a boogie board.

Even under a protective awning, the hot sun was beating down on us so Andi and I decided to walk up to the restaurant for lunch around 1:00pm. He ordered a plate of mixed ceviche served with fried plantains, and I had a tropical tuna salad with fresh fruit and vegetables. It was the perfect light lunch to round out our day in the sun.

While placing our lunch order, Andi asked our waiter how his day was going. "Good," he said, "but tiring." He was working a double-shift that day. Our conversation made me think about how similar people are in all parts of the world. For us, life in Minnesota is stressful and chaotic. We live in a $350,000 house but dream of living in this Nicaraguan paradise. Our waiter works steps from the beautiful Pacific Ocean, but dreams of being somewhere else. The grass is always greener, as they say.

After lunch, Andi and I trekked back to our bungalow for an afternoon siesta. We showered away the sand, Andi napped (again!) and I did more reading and blogging.

Andi and I decided to ring in the evening with a sunset sail, so we arranged to have one of Morgan's Rock boat captains take us out on the water. Harvy, our tour guide, met us in the lobby around 4:30pm and happily greeted us with fresh mojitos to start our adventure. Andi and I then followed him to the end of the beach, all the while wondering how we'd manage to reach the boat anchored in the bay. The waves were at least 6-feet tall. Soon, a dinghy boat putzed toward shore carrying two seamen. They carefully timed the waves as they approached us and once they arrived, we hopped in the small boat and headed off toward the bigger vessel. "Seventy percent chance we're getting wet on this one," I told Andi unassuredly.

Eventually we made it onto the larger boat - surprisingly, our clothes still dry - and headed north to catch the sunset. Our very own private sunset cruise was a great bargain for $55 USD per person! Along the way, Harvy filled our ears with information about his family, the Nicaraguan landscape before us and the yet-to-be-built Nicaraguan Canal (similar to the Panama Canal) slated to plow right through this territory. Together with cocktails in hand and the wind in our hair, we witnessed an amazingly beautiful sunset.

At dusk, we high-tailed it to the bay and did the dinghy-reverse maneuver back onto dry land. No splash landings into the ocean - success! Andi and I thanked Harvy for his wonderful tour guide services and followed the lantern-lit path toward the restaurant for dinner.

This would be our last night at Morgan's Rock in San Juan del Sur. The next morning, we'll move to another bed + breakfast property on a different hillside overlooking the ocean. I feel conflicted, like we just settled in at Morgan's Rock, but as I look over the evening's dinner menu I know Andi and I will soon grow tired of our surroundings. It's better to move on while a feeling of endearment remains.

Andi and I agreed to go halvies on dinner; he ordered the chicken and broccoli lasagna I'd been drooling over but didn't want to order myself for fear of it being too rich and I ordered the safer chicken and mushroom stuffed bell pepper dish. As we shared our plates with one another, we reflected on our wonderful day together. 

The dinner menu was delicious, and the wine and rum tasted even better. Andi decided to up the ante with tres leche cake and pineapple sorbet to top off our evening. We ate every last bite before retiring to our bungalow in the jungle.

  

An absolutely perfect day in Nicaragua. I'm excited to see what experiences the remainder of this trip has in store for us.