Matagalpa and Carlos Fonseca Amador

Sunday morning I took advantage of the free pancakes and bananas for breakfast at the hostel in Granada and packed up to leave. I caught a bus to Managua where I then had to take a taxi across town to the other bus station (there are like four bus stations in Managua). I was planning on catching the bus to Jinotega. However, when I arrived the bus to Jinotega wasn’t going to leave until later in the afternoon and I would likely have arrived close to dark. Sunday is a hard day to travel. There just aren’t as many buses leaving as usual due to the fact that more people are staying close to home on what is often the only day off that they have each week. There was an express bus leaving for Matagalpa, another location I was planning on going anyway, so I hopped on that one. Sometimes you have to be flexible when you’re traveling. Luckily, I had researched both areas so I wasn’t going to Matagalpa completely unprepared.

I found the hotel that I was looking for easily, located kitty corner from Parque Ruben Dario, which was not the central park, but turned out to be much prettier than the central park. The hotel was located behind and above a pharmacy owned by a couple who were both retired doctors. They were very friendly and welcoming. I wandered around town for a bit after dropping off my things and ran into an American man, Dave, who had lived in Costa Rica, then moved to Granada, then to Matagalpa, searching for a location that was less touristy. He had moved from each location because of the increase in tourism there. He was rather in his cups and feeling very chatty. I joined him for a couple beers and then headed back to the hotel to rest for a bit before dinner.

Parque Dario

The paths in Parque Dario

So, of course, the power went out. When I went out looking for dinner everything was shutting down since there was no electricity. There was a grocery store open so I was able to buy some bread to go with the peanut butter I had picked up in San Juan del Sur. It wasn’t a fancy dinner but it worked in a pinch.

I spent Monday and Tuesday wandering around the town of Matagalpa. I found a great little coffee place where I could get granola and yogurt with fresh fruit for breakfast which was a treat. Supposedly they even had chai, but the two times I asked for it I got a latte instead. I’m not sure if they didn’t have it or if they had just never had anyone order it before so didn’t know what it was. Luckily, I was in coffee country so the latte was really good (and this is coming from a reluctant coffee drinker). 

El Templo de San Jose de Laborio

Tuesday I headed to the museum of Carlos Fonseca, the founder of the FSLN (Frente Sandinsta de Liberacion Nacional), which was the group that finally brought the Somoza family dictatorship to an end in 1979. The museum was based in his childhood home, just a couple blocks up from Parque Dario. It was filled with photos, examples of his writing, and memorabilia from old guns to typewriters. His story is an interesting one. 

Carlos Fonseca Amador was born in 1936 to a woman who worked as a cook in the house of his father who was an accountant for a U.S. owned mining company. At a young age he began helping his mother take care of his other four siblings by selling candies on the street and later on selling newspapers.

When Carlos entered secondary school he learned about Augusto Sandino who had fought against the increasing inequalities in Nicaraguan society in the 1920s and 1930s, but whose story had been all but obliterated from Nicaraguan history books by the Somoza dictatorship. It is necessary to know a bit more about Sandino to understand why he became so important to Carlos Fonseca and the Sandinistas (as they came to be known).

Sandino was born the illegitimate child of wealthy judge and one of his servant women. Early on Sandino became aware of the injustices that existed in his society and that they were being reinforced not only by the Nicaraguan government, but by the Catholic Church, and also by the U.S. government that had arrived in 1910 to shore up a failing presidency. Sandino fought from the mountains with small groups of men who were quite effective at “hit-and-run” raids. Sandino became a popular figure throughout the country fighting for the rights of those most in need in his country, which was the majority of the population. However, when Anastasio Somoza became president in 1933 (the beginning of 66 year of a family dictatorship), he invited Sandino to Managua for a meeting to discuss a ceasefire in February of 1934. At some point during his time in Managua he was assassinated. His body has never been found.

As Carlos and other young people began to group together to protest the repressive dictatorship of Somoza in the 50s and 60s, Sandino became an important figure to them as a Nicaraguan who had stood up to tyranny before. Many of them were imprisoned and tortured various times throughout the 50s, 60s, and 70s. They were also often exiled from the country as well and during these times often met with sympathetic leaders of other countries in Central America and the Caribbean. In 1961 the FSLN was established by Fonseca and many of his comrades. They drew support from huge numbers of Nicaraguans who were tired of living in fear and poverty brought on by the Somoza dictatorship. Once again, the Nicaraguans took to the mountains to fight in the mid-60s. In 1976, an informant told the military where Carlos could be found and witnesses say he was killed after he was captured. His body was mutilated and his hands were sent to Managua to be identified. However, Fonseca’s death proved to be a rallying cry for the people of Nicaragua. They continued to battle against Somoza and eventually in July of 1979 were able to defeat the dictatorship. He is still regarded as a national hero. I will share more on this era later.

Isla Ometepe

Monday morning I packed up for the journey to Isla Ometepe and just managed to miss the 11 am bus so had to wait for the 11:30 bus. On the chicken buses it's necessary to take a bus to Rivas first and then head to the docks in a small town called San Jorge. There were a few other travelers heading to Ometepe as well so we decided to share a taxi to San Jorge. We were able to catch the 2 pm ferry out to Ometepe, which was a little over an hour boat ride away. I spent most of the trip on the deck of the boat because I was feeling seasick, but the view more than made up for it. It was incredible with the two volcanoes that make up most of Ometepe dominating the horizon more and more the closer we got to the island. There is Volcan Concepción which is the larger and more majestic of the two towering over everything and Volcan Maderas which is more humble and spread out.

We disembarked on the island and were met by the usual cacophony of taxi drivers and bus attendants trying to convince us to ride with them. After making it through that gauntlet we found a place to grab a late lunch. I found the hotel I was looking for right across the street and found it quite acceptable and reasonably priced too. After eating the others took off to another town where they were staying for their time on Ometepe. I had decided to stay in Moyagalpa, the principal city on the island and clearly where the ferry docked It was also ideal because it wasn't where all the party hostels were located. And after being in San Juan del Sur I'd had enough of the party crowd to last awhile. The only downside was a definite lack of dining options for dinner. The only place close by was an Italian restaurant that was a little spendy although quite good.

Tuesday, I spent the day wandering around Moyagalpa, which was a fairly quiet town except when the ferries arrived several times a day. I ran into some folks I met in San Juan del Sur and had lunch with them. I went up to the church on the hill at the top of town, which had a spectacular view of Volcan Concepción from the bell tower, accessed by a slightly scary and very narrow cement stairway covered with pigeon poop. Most churches usually have someone around but this one was vacant and I had to ask the woman who ran a little snack booth outside if it was okay to go up. It was. I also made plans to go for a motorcycle tour of the island the next day with a driver/guide included. I could have just rented a motorcycle or scooter by myself, but after hearing one too many stories about people crashing I decided I wouldn't push my luck. Plus, it's nice to have a guide who knows the place well.

I met up at the tour owner's bodega the next morning and met Anthony, my driver/guide for the day. After getting outfitted with helmets we were off. Our first stop was Punta Jesus Maria, a sand peninsula that juts out into Lake Cocibolca up to a kilometer during the dry season but was much smaller when I was there. The beach was covered with little white shells, I'm guessing they were homes for some creatures at some point. The view of Volcan Concepción was quite impressive from this spot as well, as it is from most of the island.

Our next stop was Charco Verde Nature Reserve, where we followed a trail that led through a jungle full of beautiful trees, vivid foliage, and the raucous sounds of birds. There is a small lake, the charco verde that gives the park its name that is lovely and separated from Lake Cocibolca in one area only by about 20 feet of land. Further along the path we came out to a lovely beach with a beautiful view of Volcan Maderas with clouds swirling around its top. When we finished our 3 or 4 kilometer walk, Anthony let me pose on the motorcycle like I was driving it for some entertaining pictures to share with you all.

Termites are everywhere down here. There are large colonies in big nests on many trees and these enterprising fellows had created a tunnel from one side of the path to the other so they could work on other trees as well.

My trusty driver/guide Anthony

Then we headed off to the other side of the island, into the foothills of Volcan Maderas to check out some petroglyphs dating back to around 300 AD and paying respects to the Nahuatl gods. The Nahuatls had many rituals in order to honor their gods who were seen as extremely powerful and vindictive. Many of the petroglyphs incorporate spirals but the exact importance of those symbols is not known although some believe that it might represent the Nahuatl calendars, their ideas of time and space, or even the island on which they lived. Most of the stones were small and but the first one we came to was quite large. Several of them had little huts built over them to help protect them somewhat from the elements. We also went to Finca Magdalena, a coffee cooperative that has trails with petroglyphs along it as well. On the way back down from visiting the petroglyphs we wandered through the coffee plantations. Just as we were leaving the area my ankle brushed a plant I later learned was called chimbre that immediately caused pain and raised bumps on my leg. We grabbed lunch after that at a great little restaurant owned by a British guy who had an organic farm in the area. I ordered a sandwich made with fresh-made wood-fired bread, freshly made mozzarella, and organic tomatoes and basil from his farm. It was amazingly good and relatively cheap as well. My leg was also mainly healed from the chimbre by the time we finished lunch.

Playa Santo Domingo was the next stop on our tour. The black sand beach stretches several kilometers and is made up largely of rich volcanic soil that has run down the sides of both volcanoes and connected the islands many years ago. I was lucky in that it was the off-season so there was virtually no one else on the beach. Apparently during holidays like Christmas and Semana Santa it can become crowded with Nicaraguans on vacation. It is impressive in the history of the island, but I would be reluctant to swim in the waters of Lake Cocibolca because of concerns I have about how contaminated it might be. At the least, the always cloudy water isn’t the most appealing.

However, our next stop, Ojo de Agua was well-worth the trip. The beautifully clear spring-fed water that fills the pool is absolutely crystal clear and wonderfully cool on a hot muggy day. I spent about an hour swimming around the pool that was only over my head in a few places. They have created rock and concrete walls around the pool with steps leading into the water. The rest of the area is a jungle of a botanical garden with plants shooting out in all directions. 

Then we were off to check out the town and port of Altagracia. We did a quick tour around the town and the central park and church and then headed out to the port which is a surprisingly long distance from the town. Few boats arrive at the port anymore, preferring to land at the more trafficked and easily accessible docks at Moyagalpa. There used to be a ferry that left from Granada and stopped in Altagracia before heading on to San Carlos near the Rio San Juan but it has since stopped running due to a lack of passengers and low water levels in Lake Cocibolca.  

The port at Altagracia, mainly filled with fishing boats now.

I just loved these volcanic rock walls.

The trip back to Moyogalpa from Altagracia was lovely as we took the more rugged northern route around the island that was mainly dirt roads and small communities. People rode by on motorcycles, horses, and bikes. Kids meandered down the roads from the school in their uniforms. The farms were dotted with huge volcanic rocks that were reminders of the still active nature of Volcan Concepcion. The last eruption had been in 1958, but every year there were several times a year when the volcano belched out ashes that would fall on all the towns and villages surrounding it. There were areas of the road that were rougher than others from where rainfall had brought debris from the volcano down. Anthony said every year people had their houses damaged by this debris. We arrived back in Moyogalpa about eight hours after we left. I was exhausted from all the hiking as well as sitting on the motorcycle all day long. You have to use muscles you don’t realize when you ride a motorcycle and after eight hours my body was realizing this.

I spent one more day in Moyogalpa, wandering the streets and snapping pictures before I decided it was time to head out to see more of this lovely country. I hopped on a ferry on Friday morning that luckily didn’t make me seasick. From there I hopped a bus that took me to an intersection where I (and several others) had to jump off the bus in order to catch the bus behind us that would take us to Granada. I spent a couple days in Granada relaxing at Hostal Oasis again before heading to the north of the country.

Some of the local motorcycle taxis and their drivers.

A chicken bus. There's usually some sort (or several) religious sayings either on the side or inside.