Silver Dollar Panqueques

              I've been moving.  From Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica to Bocas Del Toro, Panama to Panama City, Panama. Now in Panama city for three nights.  Three nights going on my fourth night.

Luna's Castle's Dining Area - One of the coolest hostels in Central America - Panama City, Panama

            After this trip I go home to the United States for a couple months. After a couple months I'm going to Spain and taking a month long course in teaching English in Barcelona. After the completion of the course I hope to stay in Spain with a job for 8 months or so. That number of months is highly questionable. My point here is, in one year I don't really know where I will be, but I like to have two things planned down the line. Two trips that is, at least until this crazy road I'm on has ended. A seed was planted in my head about taking a long touring bike trip after Spain, probably somewhere in USA and Canada . I don't know anything about biking, but it seems a pretty amazing thing to do, and anyways it's just an idea. Immediately have writing an email expressing my desire to do this to some friends I walked down the stairs of the giant mansion hostel I'm staying at and a guy comes riding into the hostel on his loaded up bike. He has been riding with his touring bike for 1.5 years. These are the coincidences in life that mean something to me. To me, these are signs.

We all have choices in this life. To go to work everyday. To buy a house, to take that trip, to buy that car. Why do you ultimately make those decisions? I'm quite sure you make those decisions based on a number of logical factors, all very logical of course, but I'm not sure all decisions need to be based on logic. This trip I'm on was because of a strange coincidence on my first trip to Mexico. A movie with a scene in it about traveling the world, which I had spoken about just before my trip was played on the first bus I got on in Mexico.

 My five month road trip around the States was basically decided because of my subscribtion to Backpacker magazine. I just became pissed reading about all the awesome hikes I could do all around the country and couldn't because I was in Connecticut. I'm getting off track here, but I like making sporadic decisions - major ones - based on something little like a coincidence or a feeling - major decisions are sometimes best made like that. My subconscience knows more about me than I do. If I tried to think about these things logically I'd just muddle it all up and wouldn't do anything. Yes, planning needs to be done consciencly, but the actually decision - go with the gut. So money willing - I'm on a bike some where in the world next summer/fall. Info or help on the subject is desperatly needed.

This trip has turned from five months into one week.  One week left of the greatest experience of my life.  Time is a funny thing.

Panama City from Casco Viejo 

Adios Nicaragua

I often don't really know how I get to where I want to go on travel day. In all honestly, when I get off a bus, if I even know where to get off the bus, I'm not always entirely sure of my next move. I never look forward to travel day. Central America doesn't make it easy, but it does make it cheap. Usually .50 cents to a couple dollars for a bus ride anywhere.

I left San Juan del Sur, my home for 10 days, and headed to Isla de Ometepe. It never ends up being terribly difficult to get to where I want to go, but I've just managed to learn to not care about knowing exactly how I need to get there. I needed to take a bus, a taxi, a boat, and another bus to make it to where I wanted to go. That much I did know, but how exactly to do that and where exactly the buses and taxis and boats were and how much they should cost were all mysteries, and generally always are. However, at the end of the day, I'm OK and I'm alive.

When I don't really know what to do I stand around like an idiot until a taxi driver or bus worker notices me. That's your best bet. You'll always be spotted, but you might get taken for a few extra dollars with that method. I used the "stand dumb" method to get to the port town of San Jorge, where the boat to Ometepe is. A taxi found me. I think I paid $2 more than I should have, but at least another dumb gringo was in the car and got beat with me.

Ometepe is crazy. From an aerial view it looks like a cell splitting into two right before cytokinesis (when they actually become two cells). The island is two volcanoes. Massive volcanoes coming straight up from close to sea level to 5,282 feet for the highest, active Volcan Concepcion, and 4,573 feet for the smaller non-active Volcan Madera. There are hundreds of tropical birds, lizards, and monkeys roaming the island. Lake Nicaragua (or Lake Cocibolca) where the volcano island sits is the 19th largest lake in the world and even has elusive fresh water sharks that managed to swim up a river from the Caribbean and effectively evolve to handle the freshwater. They were once abundant, but the Japanese some time ago made a shark-fin processing plant on the shores of the river and now there are very few sharks left. They are aggressive bull sharks known to attack fisherman and swimmers, so sadly, perhaps its for the best.

I had large ambitions of climbing one of the volcanoes for my birthday on May 18th, but the weather right now is ridiculously hot and humid. I didn't think spending 10 hours climbing up and down a volcano, dripping sweat, getting muddy, with no clean clothes to put on sounded like a great birthday present. Also, Lonely Planet mentions "deaths are common while climbing the volcano". Dieing wouldn't have been an ideal way to spend a birthday either. So instead, I did the next stupid choice and rented a motor bike. Errr....scooter. I tried to rent a motor bike. My friend with me at the time was quite confident I could just "pick it up", but after bucking and staling in my first few tries, the owner of the bike scratched that idea. Even on my 27th birthday I apparently don't have enough man in me for a proper motor cycle. But the scooter was really cute! For whatever reason the guy renting us the scooter and motor bike for my friend didn't mention that more than half the island is dirt road. Not just dirt road, but hilly, rocky, ridiculously terrible dirt roads. Absolutely no place for a shitty little scooter to be. Oh well.

The entire right "cell" is dirt, rocky, hilly road. My scooter was getting destroyed. First the real view mirrors began to loosen and just spin around as I bumped up and over ruts and rocks. Up and down steep hills. Then the floor mat padding cracked and came loose.

Some where on the second island we came to a park where there was meant to be a waterfall a few kilometers up a side road. We were asked if we wanted to walk the 4 km up or ride the bikes 3 km and just have to walk 1 more. Easy answer, we'll ride the bikes. However, the guy at the entrance failed to say the roads where at a 40 degree angle and switch backing up dirt track for 3 km (I have to say it was paved and beautiful in the beginning). My bike couldn't handle it. Multiple times I almost spun out and crashed, finally I did. With the gas all the way down the bike wasn't moving and I fell on my side and burned my ankle on the muffler. Tobias was way ahead cruising nicely on his motor bike. I was drenched in nervous sweat, thinking now how am I going to get down this? My confidence in riding was all but shattered. Tobias realized I was missing and came and took me up the final stretch and I left my bike on the side of the road. We hiked the final kilometer and guess what we found? Nothing. It's just the start of the rain season, thus no waterfall. So not only did the jackass at the bottom fail to say I might have some trouble with that shitty little scooter, he conveniently didn't mention that the waterfall we are going to see actually doesn't exist. Welcome to Central America. It never changes.

I was scared to death to go down and as soon as I tried I started skidding all over the place and nearly lost it into the woods. Luckily, even though Tobias is only 19, he seems to have more balls than me and we switched bikes for the descent. I just kept the motor bike off and held the brakes the whole way. It handled much better than my shit scooter and Tobias made it down fine.

We had the bikes for nearly 10 hours. About 5 of them over dirt roads. My bike, though not broken, was flapping plastic on both sides from all the jostling. We road past pigs rolling in mud, multiple chickens crossing the road, I think just to get to the other side, horses chased us down, at one point a stampede of cows blocked our path. The one right in front of me blocking my escape started peeing, where upon every other cow thought it was a good time to pee. That was pretty cool. Guys and girls carrying sticks and logs and bags on their heads. Lots of kids and adults on mountain bikes just living. This place is crazy. The whole time though I'm thinking about this bike that is falling apart underneath me and how much extra it's going to cost me when I bring it back in this condition. I hate this quality about me. Worrying about things I have no control over. It's so dumb. It effectively ruined the final part of my day because it's all I was thinking about. And you know what? I didn't have to pay any money extra. The guy didn't even give a care. I've managed to stop worrying about what I cannot control on travel days, but I still have work to do. Travel days always manage to work themselves out and so will other days. And so what if I had to pay extra for the bike? Why waste my time thinking and worrying over it? Dumb and dumber.

I did a bomber travel day today...from Ometepe to cross the Costa Rica border, my 7th walk across border crossing on this trip. No problems. Boarded a bus and am spending the night in the capital city of San Jose. Pretty much thinking of breezing through this country since I need to come back to fly out anyways. So tomorrow heading straight to the Caribbean, close to Panama where I'll get some reggae vibes for a couple days before heading to my last Central American country. No worries Matt, everything is gonna be alright...

Hombre Solitario

For the first two days in a city its like being a freshman. You graduate to a new grade every other night. I was a senior in Leon. When you're a senior you know all the ins and outs - of course I'm no expert of the city - I've been there only seven days, but in terms of a traveler I know all that needs to be known. I know new people that arrive at the hostel. I know how to close the door to the bathroom that's slightly off its hinge so you can have your private time after the morning coffee and where to find the only good knife in the kitchen. It starts to feel a bit like home. I can walk to the market with my eyes closed and I know the cheapest and best places to eat. In the beginning of this trip I generally only became a sophomore in the cities I visited, but now I've come to appreciate the perks of being a senior. It's not always worth attaining senior status and it's not always possible, but it's a great way to travel. 35 times now I've started over as a freshman in a new city and I've only become a senior three times. Twice in Nicaragua. All these countries are cheap, but Nicaragua might be up there as the cheapest. Plus, since its mango (.45 cents for a whole fruit of juicy heaven) and avocado season (.23 cents for creamy smoothness which makes your knees wobble and cave in pleasure) there's really no reason I should leave for a long long time.

Leon is a beautiful city in northwest Nicaragua. The many old churches are the main tourist attraction in town and lord knows (at least he should), that one CAN see entirely too many churches. The Spanish did an amazing job of spreading Christianity in the 1500 and 1600's. They built thousands of churches in every city from Mexico on down to Nicaragua. Every colonial city has five or six. Unfortunately Nicaragua, along with all of Central America also lies adjacent to the volcanic "Ring of Fire" and destroys many of the churches every hundred years or so. A sign from God saying "Stop building churches...please".

There is one very young volcano (150 years old) known as Cerro Negro (Black Hill) where some genius thought up the idea to hike to the top with a sled and have someone at the bottom with a speed gun. The record holder (87 km/hr - 55 mph) was an Israeli girl who didn't speak or understand English very well. She nodded all cute and Jewish as the instructions for slowing down and stopping where explained, but she had no clue. She lifted her feet on the board (what you use to slow down) and just bombed down the sandy, pebbly 30 - 45 degree slope of the 200 meter decent down the volcano. She set the record and as a consolation price crashed close to the bottom and received 20 stitches in her forehead. I would be setting no records. We were told once you hit 60 km/hr you have about a 60% chance of crashing. I hit about 55 km/hr. If I had another chance it's possible I would have gone to that illusive 60 km/hr - a Dr. Evil scar down my face might be good peacock for picking up girls.

From Leon I left Norway, the guy I'd been traveling with for almost a month. I gotta face it...I'm a Lonely Man traveler. I like to be Lonely Man in restaurants with my Lonely Man book and Lonely Man journal. I like to walk the streets as a Lonely Man with my Lonely Planet. I like my Lonely alone time with my book and my Lonely alone time on the bus. The truth is, there is Lonely Men all over the place - less common, but still possible to find is the Lonely Woman. One day Lonely Man will meet Lonely Woman - but this Lonely Man is perfectly happy with his Lonely self. Don't take this the wrong way - Lonely Man is not lonely. It's just the term for solo travelers eating solo in restaurants and walking solo through town. Sometimes, that's me and most of the time, that is how I love it. It's possible that gets me a few notches closer to Loser Man, but at least I'm Happy Man.

After Leon (and a couple days of beach time on the north pacific coast) I headed as Lonely Man to Granada in southern Nicaragua. Leon and Granada are both wonderful little cities, but sweaty balls hot. So hot its difficult to function in the day time. Granada sits right on the edge of the worlds 19th largest lake - Lago de Nicaragua is one name it goes by. The heat was boiling my brain and thus I only became a sophomore in Granada before severely needing some beach time.

San Juan del Sur is nestled in a little cove on the Pacific ocean. Its lovely and despite the still ever present heat there is always a nice breeze rolling through the streets. Perhaps the best thing about San Juan del Sur is the women. Not only the beautiful dark skinned, dark haired local beauties walking around, but only the cutest foreigners seem to swing through here. My only problem is I talk to the beautiful German who reminds me of the hot Nazi in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade only for her to drop the "my boyfriend...." line two hours in to great conversation or I talk to the sexy Costa Rican only for Ripple Pecks to walk over with his shirt off and steal her away. Then I think I'm doing pretty good with a cute local before I learn she's a prostitute from Managua. So it goes...

I took 20 more hours of Spanish lessons, 2 hours a day for 10 days, I got a 5 time pass to the local gym, and took surf lessons while in San Juan. I even got to be an extra in a movie being shot by Paramount Pictures in the five star hotel up on the hill over looking the entire city and ocean. It wasn't as cool as it sounds, but I did get free 5 Hour Energy's and EmergenC packets. The movie is a comedy called "Destination Wedding". I got to be one of the guests at the wedding. When the movie comes out I'll probably be the blurry out of focus bald dude. Be sure to peep it. We were there for 8 hours to in reality probably not actually be in the movie at all. So it goes...

I'm leaving San Juan del Sur on Monday the 16th after 12 days here. I have slightly more than 3 weeks left. I won't be a senior in a city again on this trip. I'm going to be moving quickly. One more stop in Nicaragua (the volcanic island Ometepe in Lago de Nicaragua) then I hope to see some of Costa Rica and Panama before my flight home from San Jose, Costa Rica. With luck and proper planning I'll make it as far as Panama City where the grass is green and girls are pretty.

Hombre Solitario hits the road manana and goes back to being a freshman...So it goes...