It’s late at night and dark except for the light of the moon. I’m floating in a kayak in a estuary near a small village in Nicaragua that is well off the tourist trail. I have no phone, and I can neither hear nor see either Alex or our guide.
I realise that I’m totally alone, with no means of rescuing myself, in an unfamiliar country in an unfamiliar kayak.
I don’t panic however because I’m at peace in this beautiful place. The stars are shining, there is an occasional firefly and every time I dip my paddle in the water the disturbance causes a bioluminescence that briefly illuminates the water around me.
I also know that because of the darkness Alex and the guide can’t be too far ahead and if I just paddle onwards for a minute or so, hopefully I’ll be able to catch a sound of their paddles.
I’m the most relaxed that I’ve been on this trip and, although it took a while, I have now firmly fallen in love with Nicaragua
How did it come to this?
After Leon we set out for Rancho Esperanza on the Pacific Coast of Nicaragua. This a place that we would never have gone to because it was well out of our way, except that we had a recommendation from the German girls Lara and Lena, who we met on the bus from Costa Rica to Nicaragua. They had been in touch, they’d found this cool spot, with almost no tourists, run by a young American guy, and staffed by a team of friendly Nicas (local term for Nicaraguans) who made great food, and made the few guests feel at home.
This is the reason that we don’t plan more than a few days in advance as it gives us the ability to change our plans at will.
The night before we left Leon we booked four nights in Rancho Esperanza. The trip would be a complex one. First we had to catch a minibus from Leon to Chinandega. This was the easy bit and when we arrived in the bus station a man immediately asked if we were going to Managua (the capital) and when we responded with “vamos a ir a Chinandega” he pointed us to the correct bus.
In Chinandega we had to catch one of the four daily buses to Jiquilillo, and if we missed the next one it would be a 4 hour wait, so as soon as we arrived in Chinandega we jumped straight into a taxi and asked for El Mercadito, the location that the buses for Chinandega leave from.
The taxi dropped us off on a street in the middle of a market. When I say market I mean total chaos, people everywhere buying and selling, dogs, children, fresh produce on the street, smells (most of which aren’t great), and although we know we still have plenty of time until the bus comes I’m reluctant to take off my bag as the street is filthy.
A local confirms both that we’re in the right place for the bus, and that he’s also waiting for it, despite there being absolutely no sign that this is a bus stop. Sure enough, 30 minutes later an old American school bus pulls around the corner and stops next to us. The first problem we notice is that it already looks very full, and the second is that everyone waiting is now pushing towards one of the doors, despite the fact that people are at the same time trying to get off. We join the hustle for the back door and eventually clamber into the bus, finding a space for our rucksacks at the back. There are plenty of free seats vacated by people getting off, but we quickly realise that they all have something on them and are on fact reserved by a passenger who’s got off the bus to buy refreshments. Why anyone would get off the bus to buy refreshments I have no idea, as the chaos is only added to by many many merchants who have boarded the bus to sell their wares. At least ten people forced their way down the bus selling cold drinks, plus the same again with a variety of food, both local specialities and slices of pizza sold from massive pizza boxes carried over their heads. This wasn’t all though as someone passed us selling jewelery, watches, towels, and at one point I think household chemicals including bleach. Unfortunately because of the aforementioned reserved seats we were stuck standing in the aisle so every single one of these people had to push past us. Luckily after a few minutes people started re-boarding the bus and a kind lady who was also stuck standing found a seat for Alex. A few minutes a later a rather large lady boarded and offered me the remainder of the bench seat next to her, which it turned out was on top of the wheel. I climbed in, hugged my small bag to my chest and hoped that nobody stole our now unguarded backpacks before we started moving.
Fifteen minutes after it’s scheduled departure, with what seemed like most of the contents of the market loaded onto the roof, we set off on our journey, not quickly though because, despite the bus being standing room only, we stopped every hundred metres or so to collect more people.
A few minutes into our journey a young women with a baby boarded and I caught her eye and offered her my seat which she gladly accepted. Before you give me too much credit for this altruistic deed however remember that I was crammed on top of a wheel arch sharing a bench seat designed for two primary school children with a rather overweight woman. Did I mention that the window next to me was jammed shut?
For the next couple of hours I stood in the aisle. Technically I stood but if I had have fallen there was nowhere to fall as the entire aisle was both full of people. At regular intervals yet more people joined the bus to sell more food and drinks just in case you’d changed your mind in the last minute. We had of course changed our minds in the heat and I bought bottles of “Big Cola” for Alex and I for $0.50 each.
Once we left the city things did speed up somewhat and, as we got closer to our destination, the bus started to stop more frequently for people to leave, departing each stop with one or two people surrounded by mountains of shopping, how they get it home from there I’ll never know.
From the luxury of her seat Alex was keeping an eye on progress and when were were a couple of minutes away from our destination we pushed our way to the back of the bus and got off a couple of hundred metres away from our destination.
When we arrived at Rancho Esperanza we were greeted by Graham, a young Californian, who is currently running the place alongside Ana the chef, her husband Ever, and the cleaner Francisco. Although they’d recently had a large group we were for now the only ones there.
We’d actually arrived quite early and while we waited for our Casita to be ready we helped Graham repaint the sign for the rancho.
Once the Casita was ready we headed over to check in. Our Casita was raised on stilts and, as the only guests so far that day, we got the one closest to the beach. It was a simple wooden construction with the bedroom upstairs and underneath a small block with a compost toilet, a sink and shower.
We were only 20 metres from the sea, so after unpacking we walked over a wall of stones that are preventing coastal erosion, and looked at the beach. It was the middle of the highest tide so the water was all the way up to the stones, however further down the coast was more of a beach so we walked along the beach until we came across somewhere we could buy a beer. We sat drinking our beer as the sun set and afterwards returned to home for dinner. Ana, the chef at Rancho Esperanza, cooks one thing each night for dinner and tonight it was Gallo Pinto (rice and beans) with fresh fish for Alex and a potato and vegetable mash for me. It sounds simple but she really knows how to use her spices, and it was one of the most delicious things I’ve eaten in Central America.
It had rained the previous night and as I walked back to the Casita I noticed crabs everywhere, so many in fact that I had to use my torch to avoid standing on them as although most would scatter as I approached, a few would stay completely still. I lay on the hammock under our Casita and staying completely still the crabs re-emerged and covered the ground. It was a fascinating and slightly creepy experience, making us quite glad we were sleeping on stilts!
Although it was hot, our Casita had a light breeze passing through and we drifted off to sleep to the sound of the ocean, safely in our mosquito/crab net!
Unfortunately it was an early wake up the next day as the property next door had a collection of cockerels, loudly saluting the dawn. Breakfast was delicious and we had a relaxed day. During the late afternoon we decided to walk into the sea to cool off. While the waves didn’t look too bad they were surprisingly tall and unfortunately one broke over my head taking my hat and sunglasses. The hat floats and Alex was able to retrieve it, but the sea was cloudy and my sunglasses were long gone. Unfortunately they’re prescription so will be hard to replace while travelling without stopping in one place for a while, so I’m just going to have to live without them for the last month.
Keen not to dwell on my lost glasses we took a walk up the coast and on the way back stopped at a small shop (known as pulperías) to buy beers. We watched the sunset once again with a beer in hand and went for an early dinner before our evening Kayak trip.
Ramón arrived to collect us on his motorbike and the three of us (yes on one motorbike) rode slowly down to the next community to where we’d pick up the kayaks. After a short walk through a farm we arrived at a building where we found proper sea kayaks, the best I’ve seen on this trip, and helped Ramón to carry them down to the water.
Ramón gave us an introductory talk, showed us some local wildlife including something known as a sea scorpion, and we pushed the kayaks off into the estuary in complete darkness.
We paddled up the estuary as the receding tide pushed against us stopping occasionally to listen to the sounds of nature in complete silence. It was during one of these periods that I drifted off and lost Alex and Ramón, which is where I started this story.
Luckily they weren’t too far ahead, listening carefully I was able to find them and we paddled together up the widest part of the estuary and into a narrower channel. At one point we were surrounded by jumping fish and the bioluminescence varied from weaker to sometimes being a constant presence either side of the kayak, activated purely by the kayak cutting through the water. After what felt like 1-2 hours of paddling we stopped, listened to the clams feeding in the mangroves and then started floating back the way we’d come. Thanks to the tide we didn’t need to paddle, floating back at a surprisingly fast pace. An hour or so later, as we floated the last few hundred metres back to where we started I could feel myself falling asleep as it was so peaceful. We took the kayaks out of the water and Ramón gave us a lift back to Rancho Esperanza.
It was 23:30 by the time we arrived back, and we quickly fell asleep.
Our second day was a relaxed affair with a late breakfast following by two cooking classes hosted by Ana the chef. The first was tortilla making, something we’ve done at home with reasonable results, however we thought that a lesson from an expert would help us to get both a feel for the correct consistency of the masa as well as some tips for the cooking. We were also surprised to see no tortilla press and, once the masa was ready, we were taught how to press the tortillas by hand, making a perfect circle.
Once the tortillas were ready we went out to the fire to carefully place them on a cast iron plate sitting on the fire. My tortillas were perfectly round and I got the cooking technique down on the first attempt leading Ana to declare me a professional. Alex took at little longer, with Ana making a few repairs along the way, but by the end of the class we were both first class students.
After a short break we returned to the kitchen to make a typical Nicaraguan cheese. The method was simple with milk curdled with the help of a rennet tablet, and then the curds collected and pressed by hand with a liberal amount of salt added. It was a simple cheese and not too dissimilar from making paneer or ricotta, but it reminded us both how much we enjoy cooking and we vowed to find some time for it when we return home.
After the class we shared our produce with the staff and while we ate, used our best Spanish to talk to the Nicas about life in Jiquilillo, including their experience of Covid. The town of Jiquilillo really only has two industries, fishing and tourism, and from what we saw even several years after Covid there is still very limited tourism and no escape from pretty extreme poverty.
After lunch Graham informed us of a shop in the next door property and gave us instructions which involved walking through the (open air) living/bedroom, which we duly did and purchased a couple of cokes for $0.50 each. On the walk back we walked past the cockerels which, depending on our understanding of the explanation, were possibly being bred for fighting. We also encountered a couple of pigs chained up in the garden eating through the rubbish. Returning the empty bottles 30 minutes later the owner tried to sign me up to the Jehovah’s witnesses, proof that their reach is universal!
Dinner that night was again communal and delicious. Thanks to many years of serving vegetarian tourists, Ana has at least four vegetarian options in her repertoire and all were proving to be delicious.
The next day was to be our last full day so we packed it full of activities. In the morning Ana’s husband Ever took us on a tour of the community where we observed for ourselves just how desperately poor Nicaragua, especially northern Nicaragua is. We started off by visiting the school of Lenamara, Ana and Ever’s daughter, they were on break and we were able to walk through and say hello to the children. It reminded me so much of the school I taught at in Botswana 23 years ago, except if anything poorer and more basic. This was an unwelcome reminder of how little things have changed for the poorest over this time.
After the school we visited the new community on the edge of town. Some of it has been built with the aid of a Canadian group and consists of simple concrete block houses, but parts consisted of simple open air shacks made of discard wood and metal. Ever explained how the community has a serious water problem with the well barely producing anything leaving the residents to buy non-potable water by the barrel and potable in small bottles.
After visiting this community we walked around an older and slightly richer community closer to town where Ever explained the differences, the private wells and that some of the nicer houses were built either from the proceeds of contraband, or by parents with children in the US who would send back money to help. We also visited another school which was empty as it only taught lessons in the afternoons, but had also been built by the Canadians using plastic bottles to reduce the amount of cement required.
As we walked back to Rancho Esperanza we reflected on how poor the area is, even more so than we’d realised having now seen deeper into the community.
Back at Rancho Esperanza we took on a task that we haven’t done at all on this trip, clothes washing! Without a washing machine all clothes washing is done by hand, so for the first time in many years we hand washed the week’s laundry. We had help from Lenamara, who Alex especially had become increasingly close to.
This just left one big activity for our last day and one of the main reasons we came here in the first place.
At 16:45 Ramón arrived with eight baby turtles who were ready for release. Before the actual release however Ramón explained his story:
Ramón, like everyone in the community, grew up eating turtle eggs which are a source of protein or income if you find the nest yourself and eat or sell the eggs. He told us how his mother told stories of in the past, up to 300 turtles arriving on the beach each night but in recent years this had dwindled to as little as eight. An American moved to town nine years ago and started a turtle conservation project with his retirement funds and, moved by his mother’s story, Ramón went to work assisting with the collection of eggs, hatching and eventual release of turtles. By releasing the turtles when they are slightly older, they should significantly increase the long term survival rate from as little as 1 in 1000. Unfortunately after 3 years of working in turtle conservation, rescuing hundreds of nests each year, the American died and the turtle conservation project died with him. Before this Ramón had been promoted to lead the day to day operations, but having no money to continue the project there was nothing he could do. The only way to rescue the turtles eggs was to either find them himself, or to pay people who found them to ensure they were rescued instead of being eaten. Ramón decided he needed to do something and he rescued his first nest, keeping them at his mothers house and hoping that she wouldn’t eat them. Luckily once they hatched his mother fell in love with the baby turtles and changed her ways. Ramon’s family was convinced and starting bringing him eggs, and very slowly he started to rescue and release turtles again. Ramón uses the money he gets from providing tours of the area and from turtle releases to continue to fund his conservation project and, six years later, is able to save around 50 nests a year. This is still a long way off the 160 they’d managed previously, but with up to 100 eggs in a nest hopefully enough to prevent further decline in turtle numbers in the long term.
After this story we took our eight baby turtles to the beach and carefully, wearing sterile gloves, we placed them on the sand and watched them slowly work their way towards the sea. While ungainly on land once caught by a wave they quickly swim off out to sea. One turtle didn’t appear to want to leave constantly turning and heading back to us but eventually we placed him closer to the sea and he joined the others.
After thanking Ramón we headed down the beach again and watched our last sunset in Jiquilillo with a beer. Later at dinner we said goodbye to Ana, Ever and Lenamara, getting hugs from all of them. Alex and Lenamara exchanged gifts, a colouring pen for Lenamara, and a sweet collection of plastic beads in return for Alex. Graham told us how much of a difference our dollars would make to their month, and we later wished goodbye to Graham who’d been our excellent host for the stay. We’d have loved to have stayed in Jiquilillo for a little longer, but with now only 3 weeks of the trip remaining and 2 countries (and a bit of Mexico) still to cover we had to get moving!
We got an early night in preparation for our trip to El Salvador.
At the beginning of the story I said that this was the place where I finally fell in love with Nicaragua, and it was the combination of spending time with a lovely Nicaraguan family and seeing the passion that drives Ramón in his turtle conservation that really made a difference. Unfortunately I’m pretty hardened to poverty and human suffering, having seen it in many countries across the world, but for the first time in a long time I came away wondering if there is anything I can do to continue to support Ramon’s attempts to ensure that turtles continue to visit Jiquilillo.
