Playa Las Lajas, Panama

A few clammy bus rides (and most of the day later) and Jason, Pip and I found ourselves on the opposite coast of Panama to Bocas del Toro, at a beach called Playa Las Lajas. We chose our destination en-route and it was decided upon by the lack of bus services to anywhere else that evening. BUT it also seemed like a fun idea to go to another beach and if it was anything like Bocas it would be a place to party, swim, surf, beach it up, jungle it up and meet more interesting people.

It was nothing like Bocas.

Our 1 room, 1 bed

We found ourselves stranded by a bus in the dark night at a poor excuse for a bus shelter just outside a long road with a mildly exciting and promising sign reading 'WELCOME TO PLAYA LAS LAJAS' which we considered walking down before being warned it would take about 30mins to DRIVE down let alone amble with our backpacks around 10pm at night, not knowing where exactly we were going. So we took a taxi and requested that it take us to the nearest, cheap hostel. It wasn't near but at US$10 a night for a cabin for ALL THREE OF US it was irresistibly cheap! The ominous route there however was confusing. We were at the beach, apparently the most beautiful in the Chiriqui province of Panama and yet we saw nothing and noone. Just darkness, the odd tree, the muddy road and occasionally a deserted looking shack. It was VERY strange. And then we arrived at the cabins/hostel and an unreasonably pissed off hostel manager/owner "greeted" us and reluctantly showed us to our home for the next couple of days... a dingy, dark, damp cabin with only ONE double bed in the middle. It rained heavily that evening and so we cooked our own dinner, drank lots of red wine and then drunkenly attempted to make a fire with wet wood... for about an hour and were shamefully unsuccessful. The night ended with a drunken nightwalk/ nightstagger up the beach with one torchlight for visibility and no clue as to where we were going as we had never seen the beach in daylight. Plankton, crabs and shells seen only in the dim glow of our light made for an exciting walk.

The next day we walked up the 14km stretch of beach and discovered that it really is quite beautiful. The pacific ocean greeted us with warm, navy waves that gently folded into the black sand shore, very different from the East coast. As we walked along though, we discovered that Playa Las Lajas really is a ghostbeach. Dead! Noone in sight and lots of huts, restaurants, hostels etc just abandoned on the side of the beach. It didn't make sense to us and seemed like something out of a horror movie almost. However as we continued walking we discovered a small pub hut with about 5 (German) customers all watching the World Cup (Netherlands V Uruguay). It didn't make sense but the football and booze did. So Dutch Pip, Jason and I spent the afternoon getting drunk watching the World cup and rowdily supporting Netherlands to the other customers' disgust... and also taking swimming breaks in the ocean. Outstanding day!

That evening we made friends with and got more drunk with some handsome and lovely Argentinians who had landed at our cabins. Card games (Chancho va!), bottles of wine, torrential rain, boiled hot dogs later and a very merry Jason, Pip and me ended up switching cabins to another DRIER one... where we proceeded to roll about laughing and filming and joking for the rest of the night! ...Only to wake up to the psycho hostel owner getting really freaking angry at us for switching cabins, flicking us off and spitting "SOLO MAL USTEDES!" at us in the morning. Lovely.

We swiftly moved on from this middle-of-nowhere, beautiful hell and on to San Jose for all 3 of our flights back to our respective homes...

Bocas Del Toro, Panama

Whizzing through San Jose, the capital of Costa Rica, where I left my dear friend and travel companion Julio, I made the decision to venture in to Panama. This was as much of an economic decision as it was an explorative decision. Or so I thought...

Boat ride to Bocas

On my 12hour or so bus journey from San Jose to the archipelago of Bocas del Toro in Panama I met a delightful young man named Jason from Ohio with whom I spent my remaining time travelling. We arrived in beautiful Bocas, on the Caribbean coast and once again I was extremely happy to be greeted by the turqoise tranquility of this ocean. However we were first greeted with the main island of Bocas del Toro, Isla Colon. This is a fun, predominantly expat-run, hedonistic party island. Not quite the oasis of calm for end-of-travels reflection as I had expected! Bocas town on Isla Colon is also quite ugly...

Nevertheless, never one to shy from an opportunity to party, I was able to have something of a rager here on this island with Jason and a bunch of other people I met there. A seriously wild night out involving dancing and drinking like a maniac and behaviour akin to a lad-on-tour, 2 days later I knew I had to move on. Isla Colon was a really fun place and its attraction for tourists is very evident. But after my intensely Latin American and Spanish-speaking journey so far, it did not seem right to suddenly feel like I was a Brit-in-Thailand, raping the island. It was just too debauched and coked-up. I consider Isla Colon as a part of the umbrella genre of travelling of Posh Backpacking. Despite Panama being one of the cheaper countries of Central America, everything in Bocas was expensive - the hostels were on average $10 a night! However did come with air-con(!) A far cry from my sweaty crotch cabin in a jungle days. Luxury backpacking at its finest.

Whilst there, instead of indulging ourselves in the expensive island tours offered, Jason and I decided to do things old school and spent our time on Isla Colon walking and exploring. One of my favourite days involved us walking about 30km all day to the small beaches on the island; Playa Bluff and Playa Paunch etc... A sudden, heavy and unrelenting rainstorm meant an unwilling trip to a cafe for prolonged consumption of ice-cream with kahlua... and tequila shots.

Once we rinsed Isla Colon of all the fun we could handle, we decided to see another side to the archipelago. And so, on we went to another isolated, quiet, deserted but absolutely stunning island of Bocas named Isla Bastimentos. THIS was how I expected Bocas del Toro to be! White, pristine, empty beaches... Rolling calm waters, ABSOLUTELY empty, jungle surrounds... it was really our own desert island. And for the first time in a long time I felt as though I was somewhere where really, VERY few people have been before. We stayed in a new and very chilled hostel called Bocas Bound and it was situated about a 5mins jungle walk away from the famous Red Frog Beach and the COMPLETELY EMPTY (and therefore by default, a nudist beach for me(!) Playa Tortuga.) This was paradise, reinforced by the presence of my lovely companions. We all spent the next couple of days seriously chilling out on the beach and in the tranquility of the jungle together... Except for the Fourth of July when the American amongst us (dear Jason!) decided we MUST celebrate Independence Day by "bbq-ing meat, drinking lots of booze and blowing shit up." Well apart from the last one, we accomplished the other two... particularly the second and I enjoyed my first ever Fourth of July celebration immensely!

The next day, with our heads bowed down low in mild shame for previous night's antics, we all left the island... Belgian Helen to Costa Rica, Dutch Rian and Slovenian Ursa to Panama city and Jason, Pip and myself to... we had no idea..........

Playa del Coco, Costa Rica

From Ometepe, Nicaragua Julio and myself scooted flashy-fast to Costa Rica for some pura vida! Our last few days chilling together (possibly forever) so we figured blissed-out, chilled-out Costa Rica would be an apt place to spend these delicate moments. Here we landed on the north western pacific coast, a beach called Playa del Coco of which we had heard great things. A touristy but popular-for-a-reason spot I was informed. But if I am being honest I was informed non too wisely? Playa del Coco was uninspirational.

It was extremely evident that we were in Costa Rica for how similar to America everything was. Signs in English, English-speaking locals, foreigners everywhere, Western cuisine, expensive everything, tourist traps... I'm not racist but there were too many pink shrimp. The beach itself too, was not so impressive. Had I been a surfer I'm sure I would have appreciated it more due to the high waves; enjoyed watching the body boarders and suchlike. Also, my impression of Coco was no doubt slightly tarnished due to the heavy rain that welcomed us off the bus and teased us on and off like a tart for our days there.

Pura vida

Fortunately we took it upon ourselves to explore the area further and hiked 13miles away to a tiny, virgin beach called Ocotal. This was far more beautiful, pristine and empty and conformed to my standards of tranquil nature vibes... that is, despite the waves brutally lashing us about. We had the beach to ourselves and unlike Playa del Coco, Ocotal easily did Costa Rica proud for our first impression!

Ometepe

On the way to Ometepe

After indulging in the gorgeous Pacific beaches of San Juan del Sur, Julio and I went to the famous Isla de Ometepe, an island located East of San Juan in the Lake of Nicaragua and home to the ancient petroglyphs. The crossing to the island reminded me of one of my favourite places I have visited on my travels, Lago Atitlan in Guatemala. Ometepe Island was just astonishingly bigger.

Upon arrival to the Island at Moyogalpa we had to take another bus all the way to the other side of the island to a small village called Balgue where we had chosen to stay for a particular coffee plantation located there. The coffee plantation, Finca Magdalena had extended its capabilities to accommodate backpackers and was popular for its extensive panoramic view over Lago Nicaragua. An arduous, rocky, seriously vomit-inducing bus journey followed by a 1.5km uphill hike later and we had found our way to the finca hostel. And indeed, we discovered that the whispers were true and the lofty finca had stunning views of the island's two volcanoes, Maderas and Concepcion.

Coffee plantation where we stayed

Whilst in Ometepe, Julio climbed the difficult Maderas whilst I chose to explore the flatter parts of the island and bussed across Ometepe, venturing in to other villages. Altagracia is Ometepe's second most important town (the first being messy Moyogalpa) and here I walked about absolutely gawped at by the locals as it is not a frequently-visited tourist spot. It is a small, quiet place with church, square, clinic and school but not much more. The people are astonishingly smiley and this was the first place in Nicaragua that I believe I was paying Nica prices for food, transport and internet. Santo Domingo, a town on Ometepe is one of the more popular places on the island for backpackers and tourists. It possesses the most beautiful beaches of the island with black sand and eerily still freshwater. An intensely magnificent and meditative place to relax, I exploited my afternoon there thoroughly and experienced a very refreshing clarity of mind.

View of Lago Nicaragua

Although my visit to Ometepe was brief, I loved the island! The people were humble and friendly, the nature wild and colourful and the still quiet mystical.

X

San Juan del Sur

So after Granada I was only going to spend a few days at the Nicaraguan Pacific coast, a particular beach called San Juan del Sur. However, as is usually the case with me and beaches I was massively sucked in and ended up being there over a week. I stayed in a little hut, high up above the ocean where I could hear the waves (and the rainy season´s plummeting rain) crashing all over us. It was gorgeous. If a little pee-inducing.

Each day myself and Julio would relax on the main beach there... that is, until a dirt spill rendered the ocean brown, unswimmable and pretty frickin' gross. Then we took to making the trek a half hour North to a deserted few beaches called Maderas where it was completely unspoilt and seriously virgin. Nearly our own beach. We spent our time being flung about in the violent waves like children, escaping the sea every so often with enough salt water swallowed to spit out our own little ocean. Getting in touch with my inner child is so liberating and it felt incredibly self-revolutionary to discover that I still knew how to "play." On one of my favourite days we went on a fishing trip at sunset and I loved it so much. Very therapeutic and meditative and rocking gently on the waves felt so calming and natural. With my beginner´s luck, I caught six tasty fish! Was only able to keep two red snappers, which we then had cooked up for us and ate for one of the most delicious meals I´ve ever been fortunate enough to consume.

San Juan is quite ¨gringo¨, ridden with bars, shops and restaurants with dollar prices (but a bit cheaper) and american tastes. It is a lot of fun though and not as touristy as I had expected... Locals abound everywhere and mix well with the foreigners. Good community vibe as I saw in Granada. More foreigners there than usual as SURVIVOR are filming their 22nd season on one of the nearby beaches and with their 300-strong film crew, the place spilled with crew members getting drunk on their days off.

Loved San Juan, happy happy days
x

Nica Nica Nicaragua!

And finally here I am in Nicaragua, I have been here for the past two weeks now and have absolutely loved it! For many years I had dreamed of coming to the exotic and rarely mentioned country and so far it has been everything and more than I expected it to be! I began my exploration in the colonial city of Granada. I had been told in Antigua, Guatemala to expect a similar city. Although I knew this meant it would be very beautiful, I also feared that it might mean the city would be overrun with Westerners speaking English everywhere and tourist shops, tour operators, tourist prices as is Antigua. However I was delighted to discover a very different kind of colonial city. One that is more authentically Nicaraguan.

Granada is ALIVE and in the best possible way. The streets are packed with families and family businesses all constantly interacting, trading and laughing together. There seems to be a very strong sense of community. The numerous market stalls (indoor and outdoor) just outside our hostel were so colourful and bustling, with fresh smells (of both the delicious and the grim varieties) filling the Granadan air. The people look strong and resilient and I found them to be nothing but curious and friendly (if a little difficult to understand in accent.) They dress more modern than the rest of Central America and walk with a tougher swagger. I appreciated this. We spent our few days there walking about the pretty streets and visiting the Lago de Nicaragua where the city is based. Pretty vistas surround Granada - hills and volcanoes alike. There is a good sense of burgeoning art, supported by the awesome building Casa de los Tres Mundos - an arts and culture centre very much carving its way as the heart of the city.

Nearby is the town filled with famous artesania markets called Masaya. One day we took a bus there and walked around all the impressive handicrafts and creative fashions. It is a market for locals rather than tourists. Had I more space in my heaving backpack, no doubt I would have invested in the Nicaraguan produce here. Overall, I really liked Granada and it was a spectacular introduction for me to Nicaragua which is already proving to be a gritty, authentic vision of Central America.

San Salvador

Birds Eye View

Julio and I left Antigua and went to Guatemala City for our transfer to San Salvador. However in rather typical Guatemalan fashion there was hassle upon the exit of the country. When we arrived in Guatemala the Borders official ¨forgot¨ to stamp our passports and so essentially we were in the country illegally. We went to Immigration to see what could be done and were told that we could either go through official procedures and seek out a lawyer to do some paperwork for us and then wait up to three weeks (which of course, neither of us have) for the legal declaration of our arrival in Guatemala to be made so that we could leave the country (!)... OR we could pay the ¨fine¨ and leave swiftly the same day...

So we spent the night in rather grim Guatemala city, went back to Immigration the next morning and paid our BRIBE and got our stamp. Before our bus left we had time so we visited the ENORMOUS and SCARILY REAL sinkhole in the middle of the city. Cordoned off with high metal fencing, it was still very much visible and I can confidently confirm that it really is a black hole to the underground of HELL, taking buildings with it. We were in awe. But deeply troubled at the same time. How the world cannot be up in arms about this issue shocks me to the core. If this is not an indicator that we need to tune our lives into nature again then I seriously think humanity is doomed.

At the mall

...But then on to El Salvador! With the country using US dollars as currency and with my scarily diminishing funds, we resolved to not spend much time in the country and instead use it as a passage for Nicaragua... And so we only spent three nights there. Whilst I am certain that the country has more to see and do, San Salvador itself seems quite void of its own authentic culture. Ridden with shopping malls and American fastfood joints, it really is a centre of commerce, business and growing wealth. From the three days I saw it, I got the distinct impression that El Salvaor has picked itself up rather quickly despite its recent end to her civil war (1992.) No doubt that vivid memories are fresh in the peoples' psyches though and the fact that there seemed little distinct El Salvadoran tradition in the capital was likely due to the war stamping out such cultures. Although on the surface thinks seemed peachy and prosperous, I couldn't help feel sad for San Salvador for perhaps not being El Salvador but instead another generic American city.

So for the couple of days we were there, we did what San Salvador had to offer us - we ate pizza and ice-cream and watched no fewer than two Hollywood films (Robin Hood and ahem, Fame) and a stage play. Can´t remember the title but it was a highly entertaining one-man comedy about the differences between the sexes... all in Spanish. Not sure if its tribute to my improving language skills or the fact that the differences remain the same internationally and I could therefore recogise them, but I understood pretty much everything and was in hysterics throughout. San Salvador knows good theatre.

So after a few (relatively) expensive days in sexy San Salvador, it was on to Nicaragua... The colonial city of Granada to be precise.

Paz x