Friday 28 April 2017

Nicaragua


Shell and Sherpa and a big yellow ex-US school bus in the background.
Central America is where all the old American buses come to die.
I had intended to stay for 2-3 weeks in Nicaragua and was looking forward to what all the cyclists refer to as a super cheap and super friendly country. However I had spent a little bit longer than expected in Honduras so in the end cycled right through Nicaragua in less than a week. Here are some impressions from the road.

The roads in Nicaragua were largely good. And interestingly there was no litter on the roadside, a problem which plaques Guatemala, El Salvador and Honduras. Each day in Nicaragua I saw men in orange uniforms picking up rubbish along the roadside. 

Workers in the tobacco fields carrying large crates on their shoulders.
I have visited many countries in my life time but none where I saw tobacco growing in the fields. Suddenly this lush green healthy looking crop appeared on the roadside all around me and I didn't know what it was. That was until I saw some huge processing facilities. All US owned. All spanking new. This photo above reminded me of ants coming in and out of their ant hole carrying loads way beyond their own weight.
We are now at the end of the dry season. In May the rains will come.
Una maravilla. A big plate of tasty cooked food costs .75c in Nicaragua.
Gallo Pinto (rice and beans) mixed, salad, an empanada and some fried chicken.
The first time I tasted Gallo Pinto (mixed beans and rice) the national dish, was
from this street vendor.
In the blogpost I wrote about El Salvador I mentioned how strange it was to have come across so many individuals with kidney disease. If I remember correctly I had met 3 individuals during a short 2 week stay in El Salvador who were all on kidney dialyses. Leafing through the Guardian newspaper online recently I found this article. It's exactly the same story I heard from the locals. 
The most close-up picture I got of sugar cane being cut in the fields.
Roads were largely good until they weren't. When the shoulder
disappeared and became a big sandy hole. 
I laugh when I look at this photo below. As good friends of mine will know neither my bike nor my saddle are good friends of mine. My cross bar on my bike is too long which pushes my butt too far back and makes me have to stretch forward with my hands. And the nails on my leather Brooks B17 saddle stick into me and give me lovely red rashes which have now turned into hard calluses on my butt. And then these calluses peel and get all flaky. Lovely.

During this whole trip I have been wondering how I could smooth some nails into my leather saddle. So when I saw this shop on the roadside in Nicaragua I thought to myself that this might just be the perfect place. A shop selling leather saddles will surely be able to convert my bum-hurting-seat into some sort of a comfy armchair. Surely. And what do I do? Well I rode on by and thought well sure I'll stop in the next leather saddle shop. Except there was no next saddle shop. Doh.
I love this photo. It makes me feel like I'm living in a different century. 
Saskia
Crossing over the border from Honduras to Nicaragua I headed straight to the bomberos. And low and behold there tucked away in the corner behind a mighty big fire engine was a lovely little Mexican solo female cyclists. What a treat. We both jumped up and down for a bit and squealed in high pitched voices while working out that we both spoke English and both spoke Spanish and most importantly were both riding south. And so it was. A 4 day friendship made in a fire station. Her name was Saskia Vargas. She was from Mexico city and was none other than a traditional Mexican home-birthing midwife. She was cycling to Argentina to deliver a baby. As you do.

Saskia. A great Mexican gal. Prior to this trip she never owned a bicycle. 
Myself and herself having the craic with the bomberos in Nicaragua.
Messing around with the firemen's uniforms.
So Saskia the non-cyclist cyclists taught me a few very handy tricks. Trick 1 was to get a bed in the bomberos (fire station). Up until this point I had always rocked up and asked if I could kindly camp but her approach was more 'could we stay'. She had worked out that each fire station has a small room for the female fire fighters. And voila, so it was, staying with Saskia in the Nicaraguan fire stations actually resulted in us both getting beds to sleep on. No air conditioning just yet, but beds.
 
A little thirsty after a long sweaty day on the bikes.
Nicaraguan bike shop

We went to a bike shop to get new brake pads for Saskia's bike.
The dad chatted to us while his 8 year old son repaired the brakes. 
Quite liked this sign in the bike shop.
Smoking is suicide. So go and commit suicide somewhere else please.

Along the roadside
I cycled through Nicaragua on Palm Sunday. There were all sorts of celebrations going on. One particularly interesting one was the Penata. A paper mache man containing lots of sweets in his tummy is hung from the roof and blindfolded kids lash out trying to smash it with a baton. It's a tradition I have seen in lots of Spanish speaking countries. 

The Penata is hoisted up to the roof by a rope. 
Some Palm Sunday parades took up the whole of one side of the Panamerican highway. Cars queued for miles. No one seems to mind waiting.

Reeds carried over the shoulder at a Palm Sunday parade.
Everything on the roads came to a standstill on Palm Sunday.
A horse back rider passes some kids playing on hay bales while taking his
cows to be milked.
As in so many developing countries everything is donated by somebody.
This bridge was donated by the People of Japan.
And everywhere fires burn along the roadside.
Maybe the remnants of sugar cane plants. I'm not sure.
And just like home, the cherry blossoms were out in full bloom.
In the hard shoulder a man on a horse trotting along. The man is chatting
on his mobile phone.
Even though I feel like I have known the name Daniel Ortega since my
childhood he has only been the president of Nicaragua for 7 years.
Some colourful handmade chair hammocks selling at a roadside stand.
Always very cool when a cycling club catches up and cycles along with you.
These guys were cycling from Managua to Granada. Only 40kms. And they had ALL the gear.
Bomberos have no funding in Nicaragua

Looking up Nicaragua on the Human Development Index (HDI) I see that it sits at 124 in world development rankings. This means that both Honduras and Guatemala, both of which I have cycled through, are poorer than Nicaragua. How come than that Nicaragua is by far the cheapest of all the Central American countries? I don't know.

By looking at the facilities of the Nicaraguan fire stations I can safely say that they are beyond doubt the shabbiest in all of Central America. The following 3 pictures are from one particularly poor station. 
Saskia sits in a plastic chair on the dirt floor of a tin shack
fire station in Nicaragua.
The poor fire fighters who sleep here mustn't sleep too well.
Myself and Saskia had to clean out the rubbish
from this fire station shower before we used it.
And yet in the same shabby tin shack of a station, within minutes of arriving one of that lads had popped out to the local street stall and brought us back a treat. A ball of popcorn glued together with sugar cane honey. Is that called molases? First bite was tasty, after that it was just a bit tooooo sweet.
A big ball of popcorn and sugar cane honey.
Ometepe island
My final destination in Nicaragua was the island of Ometepe. The island has 2 big volcanos. Perhaps an 8 hour hike said some of the backpackers on my boat. They were all excited about getting up in the middle of the night to start the long hike. I was looking forward to some quiet relaxed off-the-saddle time. 

Chatting with backpackers on the boat on the way to the volcano island
of Ometepe. I cycled 120kms that day trying to make the boat. Phew. Made it.
After 6 months of chasing each other I finally met up with Herbie (from Galway)
and Laura (from the UK) on Ometepe island. I had previously met them in a campsite in California, USA.
They invited me to cycle with them for a day or 2.







Wednesday 19 April 2017

Honduras


This picture appeared in the Irish Times. Taken by Jordi with his camera at road level.
'Tis hot. 'Tis very hot.
Meeting Jordi (Catalunya) and Alexandra (France)
I bumped into Jordi and Alexandra on my last day in El Salvador at a Warm Showers house. I hadn't met any cyclists for ages so was delighted with the company. They were good fun. I spoke Spanish to Jordi, Jordi spoke Catalan to Alexandra, Alex spoke English to me. We had all 3 languages on the go at all times. I taught them about the Bomberos. They taught me about an App made in Girona called Wikiloc. It was so nice for my ears to hear Spanish spoken with a Catalan accent. It took me back to living in Barcelona in 1993.

Crossing into Honduras with Jordi and Alexandra.

Jordi is a voluntary Bombero himself at home. And he's a bit of a chatter box.
As a native Spanish speaker you can imagine how much fun he had when we stayed with the Bomberos.
This was one truck. One truck with 2 huge trailers. Designed for carrying sugar cane.
It was turning from the main road down a tiny dirt track. Unbelievable.
Myself and Alexandra eating a plate of whatever the street stall was selling.
3L of orange drink was gobbled in about 10 minutes. Temp about 38 degrees C!

The capital of Honduras, Tegucigalpa

Jordi and Alexandra were heading quickly through Honduras. Most cyclists do this and cross through in 2 days. I had time and wanted to go exploring. Who knows if I'll ever get to Honduras again.

Cathedral on the main square in Tegucigalpa. 
Shoe shine men in Tegucigalpa.
In Honduras oranges are semi peeled at the roadside stalls.
Downtown Tegucigalpa. It's a little edgy. Bit dirty, bit dreary but kind of nice.
No tourists seem to wander around Tegucigalpa. They feel it's too dangerous.
But sure 'twas grand.
Tapas in Tegucigalpa included slices of boiled spuds
Hostel in Tegucigalpa - meeting Carlos and the Argentinians


Sweeny Green on the left. My 2 Argentinian neighbours and Carlos in the hammock.
Now this may look like a very uninteresting scene. It was the terasse of a hostel I stayed at in the Honduran capital Tegucigalpa. 5 usd per night was good value. My tent is on the left. The other 2 tents belong to the Argentinians. Carlos from the US is dozing in the hammock with headphones. I stayed in this hostel for 5 nights and so got to know my neighbours quite well. 

The Argentinians woke at sunrise and headed off each day to the busiest traffic lights in the capital where they juggled batons while riding a unicycle or played the guitar or a little accordion and sang. They came back to the hostel at about 9am every morning when rush-hour was over and counted up their wads of 1 limpira bills. They made roughly 10 usd per day each. We had breakfast together. Each morning I cooked them porridge (I'm slowly converting the world) and they made me coffee. We talked about travel and my plans and their plans. At 4pm in the afternoon they headed off again for 2-3 hours of the same, coming back when rush hour was over, counting their money, paying for their accommodation for that night. And so they travelled. 

Carlos on the other hand was a trader. He set up his various computers and tablets at 9am, bought and sold shares online on the 'penny stock market' I think he called it. Often he was finished by 9.30am having made between 3,000-5,000 usd. And so the world turns. Everyone getting by. The Argentinians making enough to pay for their accommodation and some grub. The American making enough to buy and sell a few houses every year. The Irish cyclist looking on, taking it all in and thinking what an interesting world it is we live in. 
Going to the theatre with Carlos in Tegucigalpa. He had never been to the theatre. Imagine.
He was also too scared to walk through Tegucigalpa. He only took taxis. So we walked together
to the theatre.
The mountains of Honduras
Based on my friend Julian's advice, I headed into the mountains in Honduras. Cycle tourers can actually cycle through Honduras along the Pacific coast in 2 days. But in order to take the road less travelled I diverted up to the capital and onwards into the mountains. I had time and wanted to explore. It was also 42 degrees the morning I left the bomberos (fire station) in the town of Nacaome on the coast. I needed to go high.

Tegucigalpa is 70km uphill inland. My rule about hitching lifts is that as long as I'm not travelling directly along my route i.e. north to south, then hitching is an option. Tegucigalpa was north east of where I was which meant I allowed myself to throw Sherpa into the back of a pick-up for the 70km climb.

Valle de Angeles, Honduras. Beautiful old colonial town where time stands still.
On the street in Valle de Angeles a man peels and then sells his supermarket
trolley full of oranges.
Almost my first WorkAway - at Rauls

I had been wanting to try the WorkAway.info website for ages. I have spent years listening to how friends had travelled the world working a few hours each day in return for food and board and now at last I had time to try it out. I also wanted to get away from the heat of the coast so picked a guesthouse in Valle de Angeles in the central Honduran mountains to contact. Below is my very first reply from a WorkAway host.

Hi Michelle, thank you for contacting me!.. there's a workaweyer who signed up with me already for the next three months, so you don't need to do any work, but you're very welcome to come over. I definitely would love to hear your stories... I do have room for you for about 4 or 5 days. You can just come and relax and enjoy your stay in here, I'm just starting this guesthouse project so ideas are very important for me now... I'll be glad to have you in here, you will enjoy the weather and the mountain views. You can make use of my kitchen to prepare your own food... 

Sure how could I refuse. Off I went to Raul's guesthouse and stayed for a week. In return for food and board I did build him an AirBnB profile. There were high fives around the breakfast table the next morning when we got our first booking.

Lovely Raul runs a guesthouse, some log cabins and a dune buggy rental business.
One of his customers gave him a present of this mug while I was there. A mini Raul making dollars.
Raul rented All Terrain Vehicles (ATVs) as a side business. He took me up to some
spectacular viewpoints along the mountain trails.
To the right is my John Boyne rocking chair. On this chair I read 2 John Boyne books.
Raul was just a gas man. One day we headed into his local village, he produced a pack of cards at a restaurant table
and soon all the street children flocked over to our table for a game. He knew them all by name.
From Valle de Angeles to Guimaca, Central Honduras.

Cool temperatures, quiet roads, lovely scenery. Perfect cycling conditions.
Honduran mountains, great on the bike.

Road conditions were sometimes a little iffy.
Message from a Warm Showers host in Guimaca, Honduras
Time off the bike at Raul's guesthouse was so lovely that I thought I'd try a Honduran Warm Showers host to see if I could wing any more time off the bike. I wanted to give you a taste of just how wonderful this community is. Here is a reply from a host in Guimaca. My intro email said something like 'Hi, I'm Michelle, from Ireland, I'm nearby and would love a bed or a grassy patch out the back garden, any chance you guys are home'?

Hi Michelle, You are my first contact from WarmShowers! 
You are more than welcome to spend time at my place in Guaimaca. 
I was a volunteer in Honduras in 1979 and returned with my wife and daughter in 1996. 
We spent 13 years in Guaimaca.

I will make some contacts but if you go to the building, the 
family next door will be able to get you in. Franklin helps me out when I am not there and his mom Glenda will be very helpful.
Fatima will have the key to the upstairs apartment. 
Actually I left a set of keys just outside the apartment door. 
As you reach the top of the stairs, look at the wall in front of you, up high you will see a set of keys on a leather string will have the key to the apartment. 
Franklin will have the keys to get you into the property and the building. I hope you have a great visit!
My number in the States is xxx if you have any questions or I will
be watching my e-mails. I am excited to have my first warmshowers visit.
Please feel like our home is your home. Stay as long as you like. 
Eddie
Eddie's humble apartment. It was above a piano school he had set up 13 years ago.
Needless to say I spent that evening tinkling on the keys. I met Fatima and Franklin and Fatima
and just like the email said, they let me in and made me very welcome.

Bingo under the tree

I arrived into Nacaome, Honduras on a Sunday evening and bumped into bingo night. People had brought their own plastic chairs. I was immediately invited to join in. A lovely simple community gathering.

Young and old took part in the weekly bingo under the tree.
These teenagers are using corn/maiz to mark their cards.
2 gorgeous kids at bingo.
I loved this scene. A young lady breastfeeds her baby while playing 2 cards of bingo
using corn/maiz as markers.