Street scene in El Rama, Nicaragua.
Normally I like to start at the beginning but when your 23 days in and there have been countless incidences of beauty and breakdown, with traveller’s belly and unrelenting heat thrown in, it is hard to simply start at the beginning. Nothing is linear, as my mind whirls, trying to figure out what to include in this post.
Our 3 weeks thus far in Nicaragua could aptly be described as “intense”, mentally and physically. I am continually attempting to determine if our mental struggles are causing our time to be physically difficult or if the physical harshness of Nicaragua is causing our mental unrest.
Of course in reality our experience is a result of a combination of countless, undeterminable elements but two main causes in particular keep coming to mind.
1. Travel in Nicaragua is physically harder than travel we encountered in Ecuador.
2. Psychologically, “travel shock” may be in effect as the initial euphoric phase of travel wains and we emerge into the real day to day of long term family travel and what that really feels like.
Our 3 weeks thus far in Nicaragua could aptly be described as “intense”, mentally and physically. I am continually attempting to determine if our mental struggles are causing our time to be physically difficult or if the physical harshness of Nicaragua is causing our mental unrest.
Of course in reality our experience is a result of a combination of countless, undeterminable elements but two main causes in particular keep coming to mind.
1. Travel in Nicaragua is physically harder than travel we encountered in Ecuador.
2. Psychologically, “travel shock” may be in effect as the initial euphoric phase of travel wains and we emerge into the real day to day of long term family travel and what that really feels like.
The 6am boat trip, 1 of 2, to Pearl Lagoons.
I expected and prepared for an initial “adjustment” time to get acquainted and comfortable with our new nomadic lifestyle. It has happened every time I have started traveling after a extended period of living a stationary life. Somehow I held the number 30 in my head as the number of days it was going to take us to iron out all the kinks and become apt a the family travel thing. A month, from my past experiences, seemed to be ample time to reawaken the dormant, seasoned traveler inside both my husband and myself, after which time we were able to relax a bit and know whatever lays ahead we could handle. The "adjustment period" is often riddled with silly rookie mistakes such as getting in a cab without asking the price or confirming the meter is "working”, misplacing belongings in the hustle and bustle of moving about, or going to the bus station the day before a long bus trip to pre-purchase tickets while forgetting to bring your passports. It is also a time to become comfortable with the longterm, budget-travel lifestyle, wearing the same clothes repeatedly, eating what is available when it’s available, adjusting to the pace of life that surrounds you, packing and unpacking, and the list goes on and on.
And we have done all that.
Having grown up on an island where the longest possible car ride would be 1.5 hrs, the kids are already surprisingly accustomed to very long haul buses. We pack efficiently and after getting a man with a sewing machine on the street of Granada to shorten the length of Yoda’s waist belt on his backpack in order to better fit his slim frame, we can each comfortably carry all our belongings. Yoda and Zuki seem at ease conversing with fellow travelers and openly share their travel experiences with pride. We enter and exit transportation with competence, even in one instance while the bus was still moving. And countless other adaptations along the way. We were feeling pretty confident leaving Ecuador.
Somehow the rhythm has changed since we entered Nicaragua. Here we are on day #58 of our World Trip and we seem to be experiencing what could fittingly be called "family travel distress". Nicaragua travel has been more physically extreme then expected and has pushed us to our limits and sometimes beyond.
Since the moment we deplaned at 9pm in Managua, Nicaragua’s capital city, we were stunned by the heat. The constant hot weather is causing lethargy, effecting our moods, and heating our tempers. Travel is also made more extreme by the fact that Nicaragua is generally louder, less clean, and seems to perceive personal space as smaller.
And we have done all that.
Having grown up on an island where the longest possible car ride would be 1.5 hrs, the kids are already surprisingly accustomed to very long haul buses. We pack efficiently and after getting a man with a sewing machine on the street of Granada to shorten the length of Yoda’s waist belt on his backpack in order to better fit his slim frame, we can each comfortably carry all our belongings. Yoda and Zuki seem at ease conversing with fellow travelers and openly share their travel experiences with pride. We enter and exit transportation with competence, even in one instance while the bus was still moving. And countless other adaptations along the way. We were feeling pretty confident leaving Ecuador.
Somehow the rhythm has changed since we entered Nicaragua. Here we are on day #58 of our World Trip and we seem to be experiencing what could fittingly be called "family travel distress". Nicaragua travel has been more physically extreme then expected and has pushed us to our limits and sometimes beyond.
Since the moment we deplaned at 9pm in Managua, Nicaragua’s capital city, we were stunned by the heat. The constant hot weather is causing lethargy, effecting our moods, and heating our tempers. Travel is also made more extreme by the fact that Nicaragua is generally louder, less clean, and seems to perceive personal space as smaller.
Between dips in our posada’s pool, we managed to explore beautiful Granada over the first five days. The colonial architecture is beautiful and the classic buggy ride was a relaxing way to tour.
The kids “needed” to cool off every few hours.
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A man and his cat.
Market gossip- the same across the globe.
I know this will get a chuckle, but one of the highlights was Zuki finding a dung beetle, an animal we had heard about but never imagined we would see while we were simply walking down the street. I will never forget her little voice “Hey, that’s a dung beetle.” Yup, don’t need a scientific book to correctly identify that one. There is a beetle rolling up dung. Dung beetles are sometimes incorporated in the kids’ made-up jokes so just seeing them had us all laughing.
Dung Bettle, doing its thing with horse dung in the streets of Grenada.
In search of a slow pace of life, cool ocean breezes, beautiful water, and relaxing beaches to sooth our souls, we decided to make our way to the Carribean coast We traveled by multiply buses and boats spanning over 2 days to get to Pearl Lagoon, but it was the second “Chicken bus”, aptly nicknamed because it is not unusual to see passengers carrying chickens, that I found myself questioning if our traveling style was suitable for the kids. Yoda had a case of traveler’s belly almost from day one in Nicaragua and he was expereincing stomach pain off and on.
Market in Granada. Yoda claims that the smell of raw meat in the heat of the day was the cause of his “travelers belly” which lasted for almost a week.
It did not help that I had misinformed the kids that the local bus from Managua to El Rama would be 5 hours. Unknowingly we ended up on the ordinario rather then the espresso bus making the trip 7 hours! I can’t explain to you how slow the last 2hrs went, with the never-ending heat and the aisles continually crowded with people loudly advertising their wares, everything from snacks, to shoes, to a pill to solve all your health issues. Yoda would occasionally crunch up and whine of stomach cramps. We all were all sweating. I kept an eye out the window and kept thinking “OK, we could just get out right here if we had to."
We survived the bus trip and then the night in the dodgy El Rama hotel. Luckily the 6am boat to Bluefields, followed by the final boat to Pearl Lagoons, our Caribbean destination, actually turned out to be surprisingly fun, as the bouncing of the super fast boat made the kids burst into laughter and the little snapshots of the life of the locals kept me enthralled.
View from the boat to Bluefields.
Covered with plastic to stay out of the rain on the boat from Bluefields to Pearl Lagoon.
But as the novelty of the bouncing began to grow old and we came closer to our destination we all felt deflated. Where were the dreamy white beaches and clear turquoise water?
Our first view of Pearl Lagoons.
I probably felt the worse as I am the one reading the Lonely Planet Nicaragua and planning our destinations. Luckily we were so far out there we had no choice but to stay and rest a few days before moving on. And this is part of what I love about travel; some places grow on you if you just stick it out and see what lies below the surface. Pearl Lagoons lacked clear blue waters and picturesque beaches, but it was all Caribbean. The people are Creole and Reggea pumps out from the colorful homes. The pace of life is slow. The lack of tourism infrastructure, at least in the slow, rainy season, forced us to join the locals. Once we realized the water was just brown from the rain and the town did in fact have a septic system, we allowed our kids to join the other kids playing in the lagoon. Before we knew it the days flew by, filled with swimming, crabbing with the local boys in the dugout canoes, and even crabbing off of our deck with a trap they borrowed. We enjoyed the pace of life, and filled our stomachs with the freshest of catches; lobster, crabs, fish and shrimp. (Well one of us ate chicken the whole time)
Yoda showing off.
Out learning the ways of the fishing boys.
Boy heading out with his crab traps.
Crabbing from the deck of our over-water bungalow at Queen Lobster.
 Kiko with the crab catch |  Fishermen sell their catch to Queen Lobster. |
With an early bedtime, we awoke to the sounds of fisherman passing under our windows around 5am.
We walked to a local Miskito community, Awas, where we enjoyed fresh coconuts and saw a glimpse of another way of life.
Awas village
On another day Zuki and Kiko had a lesson in preparing the local delicacy of “Rundown”, a one pot meal where crab, fish, shrimp and lobster cook with yucca and potatoes, in a thick coconut milk, letting the flavor “rundown”; delicious.
In an attempt to satisfy the desire for that "Caribbean dream" that we still held in our minds, we managed to find another couple of travelers with which to split the cost of the one day boat tour out to the famed Pearl Keys. Unexpectedly I found myself again questioning wether we are pushing it too far with kids in tow. Actually it was young Yoda that asked, “Are you sure this is safe for kids?” when we were out at sea in force 5 winds in a 30’ small boat that repeatedly slammed down, wave after wave. Of course I assured both kids it was perfectly safe but I wasn’t totally convinced myself. We had left from the protected Pearl Lagoon unaware how rough the seas were. Kiko and I are quite comfortable with boats but we both later said that if the boat captain had informed us of what conditions to expect we would have opted not to go.
A safe arrival on an island in the Pearl Keys. Our boat in the calm bay makes it hard to imagine the rough 1.5 hr ride over.
A rough trip to paradise, but it was everything we had dreamed.
The Pearl Keys are the postcard-perfect islands but have no overnight accommodations. So with the white sand still on our feet and the salt still crusted on our skin we started trying to figure how to fit a side-trip to our dream destination, Nicaragua’s Corn Islands, into our tight Nicaraguan budget. The flights alone would set us back $800 but with the experience of the Pearl Keys still fresh we couldn’t resist. We booked one way tickets to Big Corn Island with the idea of spending a week or so on remote, Little Corn. We felt like we needed some easy travel to regroup and The Corn Islands, while not as touristed as other Caribbean island, they are one of the main tourist destination in Nicaragua. So when we found ourselves halfway between Big Corn and Little Corn on a small boat (which is the the only way to get to Little Corn) in extremely rough seas that managed to make the trip to Pearl Keys look tame, I was taken by surprise. If this well touristed route seemed difficult maybe I had lost my travelers edge? Maybe having kids made me too scared to travel in developing countries? Then a man fell overboard. It was shocking. Yoda looked petrified and Zuki cried because I had just convinced her we weren’t going to fall in. Luckily one of the boat boys on the bow had turned around after a particularly large wave hit us and noticed one of the other boat boys, who had been sitting on the side of the stern, was missing! The captain turned around the 30’ panga and was able to locate the scared, yet still smiling, teen.
It was just icing on the cake upon arival to hike the 20 minutes to our booked accommodations, Dobedo, at 6 pm to discover there was no place open for food. So dinner consisted of a jar of peanut butter we had and the manager cut us up a pineapple from the garden. Three out of the 4 of us were eaten alive by mosquitos over night, even with the mosquito nets provided. There was no wind and no fans. Yoda was so hot that I had to get a towel completely soaked and lay it over him to keep him cool. It was almost laughable. How were we having such a bad time of it even on the desirable Corn Island? Needless to say, “Dobedo” is now our family code word for something horrible. Luckily, the next day we found new accommodations on the other side of the island at beautiful, beachfront, wind blown Casa Iguana.
It was just icing on the cake upon arival to hike the 20 minutes to our booked accommodations, Dobedo, at 6 pm to discover there was no place open for food. So dinner consisted of a jar of peanut butter we had and the manager cut us up a pineapple from the garden. Three out of the 4 of us were eaten alive by mosquitos over night, even with the mosquito nets provided. There was no wind and no fans. Yoda was so hot that I had to get a towel completely soaked and lay it over him to keep him cool. It was almost laughable. How were we having such a bad time of it even on the desirable Corn Island? Needless to say, “Dobedo” is now our family code word for something horrible. Luckily, the next day we found new accommodations on the other side of the island at beautiful, beachfront, wind blown Casa Iguana.
Grand Casita #1, perched over a beautiful beach with a constant cooling wind.
 Breakfast Corn Island style. |  View of Casa Iguana’s beach from the lodge. |
Zuki and Yoda found some local kids to play with.
So the physical side of travel got pretty darn easy. BUT along with all the physical challenges and required acclimations when traveling there are the coordinating mental modifications as well. Since we all process things differently and at various paces these changes are a lot less tangible then the physical changes. This has been the difficult part. Over the last few weeks there has been bouts of frustration and uncontrollable tears all around. It eases and then rears again. It did not abate when physical travel life got easy on idilic Little Corn. I have been completely baffled by it. But now as I sit writing this in my hammock as the family sleeps I have enough space to reflect and see that we have been talking and bonding and being brought closer together over these unbridled emotion outbursts. And if I was told I could only have one wish for the outcome of this trip it would be that we get to know each other better as individuals, making us a closer and stronger family unit. Now I see this is in fact what is happening; it just isn’t always as pretty as you think it should be.
Hoping the future brings some smoother seas our way.
