Ometepe Eventualmente

        Unexpected for me is the ferry departing a few minutes ahead of time: who would think something second/third world giving us a problem by running ahead of schedule?
        So, we wait ~an hour for the next ferry to Isla Ometepe, arriving on the 2-volcano mass (largest freshwater island, I think) after an hour of lurching with a hint of diesel in the humid air.
        Our hotel's nondescript but for the ceiling tiles lurching upward: when there's a strong wind, I'm fairly sure the metal roof's getting airborne and anchored only by the dropped ceiling below, which keeps lurching upwards. Not exactly the most robust arrangement, but our stuff doesn't seem to get wet. A chunk of metal wire does appear to shoot from above at one point, but this is more entertaining than dangerous.
        We bike to explore, finding a cluster of houses with big fat pigs roaming the streets but not our hoped-for petroglyphs. It can't be repeated enough: road bikes are NOT appropriate for transportation any extended distance in Central America. I can't say for sure outside of Brazil, but note to self not to find out the hard way when next in South America. Really, anywhere economically south of western Europe probably wouldn't be playing it to safe...
        Dinner's something I've been missing: pizza. Tastes half decent, too... especially with dos litros de la cerveza se llama Toņa (I could definitely get used to this liter beer thing). A few rum and cokes followed by relatively competent work on my bike concludes the evening.

<links> <pictures> <writings> <me>