Around The World In 80 Waves

I am amazed that there are any school buses left in the USA!

All though Central America they are the standard form of transport, and are known as Chicken buses because you often will see a crate of the feathered birds strapped precariously to the roof.

I saw one such crate fall off one in Nicaragua only to be immediately blitzed by the pickup truck between me and it in an explosion of feathers.

They are usually decorated in riotous colours although not so much the further south I have travelled.

This one I saw in Guatemala, where they are driven by maniacs who are only interested in doing their standard route as many times as they can during a day. I struggled to pull away from one on the Pan American highway, eventually giving up because of his driving right up the back of me doing about 85mph down a twisting mountain descent!

For some reason the three most common themes for decorating the buses throughout the continent are Batman, The Transformers and messages praising Jesus or God. I have no idea why that may be.

I have not used one yet, but have previously ridden something similar in China where they also cram an additional 20 people on just when you think it couldn’t possibly hold anything or anybody else.

I don’t know much about their safety record but suspect it is not that good!

Since being in Central America I have been reading quite a lot about William Walker who seems to have lived quite an extraordinary life. Marlon Brando portrayed him in the 1969 film ‘Burn!’ which I have not seen

The rest I have lifted from Wikipedia because I have too much writing to do, but I would recommend you take the time to read about him.

(May 8, 1824 – September 12, 1860) who was an American doctor, lawyer, journalist and adventurer, who organized several private military expeditions into Latin America, with the intention of establishing English-speaking colonies under his personal control, an enterprise then known as “filibustering.”

Walker became president of the Republic of Nicaragua in 1856 and ruled until 1857, when he was defeated by a coalition of Central American armies, principally Costa Rica’s army. He was executed by the government of Honduras in 1860.

I have based myself in San Juan del Sur for the last three nights I am staying in Nicaragua.

It is a real tourist town, which is particularly full of Americans and Canadians who have flown down here to enjoy Spring Break or the Easter week. There are loads of surfers and surf shops knocking about too.

The dollar is universally accepted here and is even offered from some of the cash points as an alternative to the local Cordobas.

The town lines a beautiful sheltered bay, and is very busy during the holiday season so I was lucky to find a great room at the Hotel El Coco Azul (www.elcocazul.com) where I can keep a watchful eye on the bug because my very comfortable room overlooks the street. However it is not necessary because the security guard here practically sits next to it all night for me to make sure nobody is misbehaving.

It is steaming hot on most days that I am here because there is no wind at all. That is great when you are surfing but in town it means that I am sweating lying still under the fans inside my room.

I am away from town at the beach during the day but have made Henry’s Iguana Beach Bar my evening hangout (www.iguanabeachbar.com )once I have freshened up each day. I like the food here and there is live sport to keep me amused. Drinking at the bar I met a few people here, but nobody more lovely than an Australian called Gemma who I met on my first night in town. We get on famously but rather typically of my luck with such things, Cinderella has to get back to the Corn Islands where she is currently based and has to leave before things can get interesting.

The town has been a fantastic place to stop, and has allowed me to bag some classic Nicaraguan waves, but it will soon be time to move on again.

I have just enough time for one more of the amazing sunsets here.

I take another shuttle bus from San Juan del Sur out to a staggering bad road down to Playa Medera, which is supposed to be the best break around the town. this time I was travelling with Mario from Surf Nica Waves (www.surfnicawaves.com )

First impressions were that it was mobbed and even if there was plenty of eye candy knocking about looking fantastic in their swimwear there were certainly too many people in the water for the waves which are not as good as the ones I scored the day before at Hermosa. 

I travelled to the beach with a fun couple from Calgary in Canada called Gerald and Jenny and they are kind enough to keep a watchful eye on my stuff when I paddle out into the line up.

This picture is a great shot of me bursting through one of the waves and you can see the beach behind me which is lined with golden sand. 

My tan is sufficiently good now that I do not need to wear a rash vest to protect me from the sun so I am just in shorts for this session.

I dont know if it is for that reason but I am on fire today bagging the best rides that I saw caught by anybody in the water. I am getting whooped and hollered as I charge down the line of one. You can see me and my belly having fun in this shot, which was taken just before I nearly landed a floater of top of somebody. His duck dive was as good as it needed to be so no harm was done.

A great day and a fantastic surf for my last session in Nicaragua.

I even saw another suspiciously big fish in the water and you can see me trying to explain that I had seeen a Tiburon (Spanish for Shark) between us and the beach to one of the locals

From San Juan del Sur which is well appointed with surf shops and shuttle buses to nearby beaches I sign up with the Good Times Surf Shop to get a lift to Playa Hermosa.

Having seen the state of some of the coast roads the day before I didn’t want to risk the bug and the shuttle was only $10 for the return trip. A bouncy 15 minute ride there later I know it was the right move.

There is a small group of cabanas on the huge beach set up to provide drinks for the thirsty surfers, sun bathers and swimmers. We are dropped off and told to be ready for the return journey a few hours later.

I leave my stuff on the beach under the watchful eye of the American and Canadian girls who took the shuttle with me, whilst Guillem who is also from Canada paddles out into the sand bottomed beach break with me.

Guillem only has  a few days of surfing under his belt so finds the paddle out a bit challenging, but I am quickly into my game scoring two fantasticly long lefts as soon as I paddle out. This was the picture of the session

On the second of the waves I nearly fell off after being distracted by the fact that I surfed directly over the top of two rays heading the other way. The water is so clear I could easily make them out as I leant on my heels to make the bottom turn going left.

I caught a few more waves but the other big news for today was that I saw my first shark in the water. It was about twenty metres from me and wasn’t moving much so I didn’t feel too concerned by its presence, which surprised me as much as anybody.

It was curled up as though it might be eating something and I only got a good look at its tail which was swishing about above the water. (Later scrutiny of my shark playing cards would suggest that it was the King of Diamonds, a blue shark.)

It didn’t move towards me, and I alerted Guillem to its presence so the two of us stayed a wee bit closer to one and other for a while but it soon disappeared from sight, which is more unnerving that actual knowing where it is. However after a minute or two of scanning the area around us we just got on with surfing again.

Final note: 40 waves baby!!! Half way to my target. Woooooo-Hoooooo!

It is the start of Easter week and being a Catholic country everyone is suitably in the mood.

There was a procession through the centre of town with everyone carrying palms as a nod to Jesus’s arrival in Jerusalem a few years back.

As an aside it is also worth saying that everyone is rather pleased here that the latest Pope comes from Latin America.

From Masachapa I follow the brick road out of town looking to get to the breaks listed further east in my Stormrider guide.

As I drive along everybody points and waves because the Little Green Surf Machine is so unusual in this country. Everybody seems to love my car so I am all smiles in return. 

I head to the main road and then double back to the coast a few miles further on arriving at the fishing village of Cesares.

I was hoping to get in the water here too but there is no shape to the waves and I  am not at all tempted by the vista you see here. 

I stop briefly to take a pcture of the brightly coloured fishing boats that line the beach, but have already had one crap surf today so push on.

The map I have tells me there is a coast road towards Las Salinas where far better waves should be on offer. 

However this road and I use the term loosely quickly deteriorates into a dirt track.

I know I am far from help here and it is way too hot to be walking miles in the sun for help so I am cautiously plodding forward. This little bay was the closest that I saw to surf and I had to cross it twice on a stone path which had clearly been destroyed by the sea resulting in all kinds of sharp edges pointing upwards across which I nervously wobbled.

The road got even worse from there and after a few chats with locals I decided to cut my losses and head back. Reluctantly I pushed further down the coast taking the decision to arrive a day earlier than expected in San Juan del Sur near the border with Costa Rica

After my rubbish surf I take a stoll on the beach which is full of life from not long after dawn. There is an interesting perpective on the food chain in this fishing village which I will try to outline here.

The fishing boats land on the shore and are immediately mobbed by the locals who want the best fish.

The locals then take their fish to this stream running out to the sea, where they clean and gut the fish on the rocks.

This man was good enough to allow me to take a picture or two of him in action. It took him a minute at best to complete the task. 

All the unwanted guts, etc are then carried over to this oil drum rubbish bin where hundreds of vultures hang about waiting for the latest addition.

The scene reminds me of Hitchcock’s The Birds and I feel a tad uneasy approaching the area because the cliffs and trees just out of shot are also lined with the predators who I feel would be licking their lips if they had any as I walk up with my camera.

The actual pecking order is then completed by the gulls who wait in the space before the shore for any of the scraps left by either the vulture of the humans.

Time for breakfast I suppose!

I wake up early in the morning and see a small wave breaking right in front of the Hotel Summer so grab my board and jump in the water.

It is a gutless beach break, which is a foot and a half at best and I dont stay in long after catching a couple of crap rides.

There were no pictures in the water because there wouldn’t have been anything worth taking.

I took this picture of a rather funkily coloured lighthouse which overlooks the break later in the morning though.

However I am happy to be so quickly of the mark in Nicaragua.

Upon arriving in Nicaragua it is already getting dark so I put my foot down trying to get to the Montelimar Beach Resort which is where I intend to go surfing the folowing day.

It is still roasting hot and I am getting a bit hot under the collar because the locals are driving really aggressively behind me in pickups using spotlights and full beam headlights which are blinding me. I dont know if this is the reason for it but I miss my turning and end up up 50 miles off course in the capital Managua. i later find this map online and could have done with it because there are no street signs and it takes me an age to find my way out and back to the coast in the darkness.

Managua is sat on top of a staggering 11 seismic fault lines so I am not sorry I didn’t stick around. However the road to Montelimar which is made of bricks takes me an hour and I am shattered by the time I arrive at 9pm and then heartbroken because they want $170 for one night. I have to head on and even the very pretty female security guard whose tight outfit complete with firearm that has a particular charm cannot lift my sprits.

I spend another hour trying to find a place with wi-fi without any luck until I give in and opt for the Hotel Summer right on the becah in the nearby town of Masachapa, after swerving around all the drunks who are falling into the road on my way there.