Not quite as bright and early as we'd like, we start the day an hour
late for our 9am horseback ride. It's refreshing to be somewhere that
boils down safety to "you know how to ride, right?" We add out
bicycle helmets for extra safety first.
We trot, gallop, and whatever you call "going legitimately fast mode"
on our horsies maybe 5 km to arrive at the entrance for San Ramon
waterfall. Or, rather, the entrance to the entrance to the entrance:
we've then got a ride through the manicured lawns of a country club
resort posing as an ecological research center, trotting among avocado
trees guarded by some dude with a sawed-off shotgun (of rock salt,
hopefully), and tying the horses before walking what's called "1 km a
la cascada" but is actually several times that. Though a flow not
much north of a trickle today, San Ramon's ~200-foot drop is worth the
trip, especially when I find out how nice said trickle feels on my
head.
Post-waterfall, Amanda is chafed raw and then some, having opted for
short shorts as riding apparel. Having only yet achieved a
not-so-uncomfortable numbness, I continue on to the petroglyphs while
Amanda heads back to Hospedaje Merida. The petroglyphs are carvings
in the volcanic rocks found throughout Nicaragua but especially
prominent on this island. Apparently date's unknown but thought
500-1850 AD (not too helpful) and there's this huge backlog of
identified but unexcavated sites, not for lack of stability but more
from funding not being around.
Probably more accurately "funding that meets government requirements
of relinquishing all control of exploration sites and ownership of
finds." As I pay 20 cordoba (~$1.10) to walk past the barbed wire
gate of a farm family who seem to not own but have taken control of
the land some petroglyph-containing rocks sit on, this seems a bit odd
of a system to protect artifacts of supposedly nonzero historic
importance. At least some of the volcanic rocks are in grass, I guess
only slowly eroding. Others are literally sticking into the lake's
tide, partially covered as the tide rises and laps away at the
carvings. Would it really be so bad to take some of these and sell to
a climate-, humidity-controlled museum? Private collection? If not
for similarly (or more) exploitive moves by the Colonial British,
wouldn't London's British Museum be largely empty?
Following the petroglyphs is a series of mad rushes, me to the hotel,
Amanda and I to get ready and close our bill in time to catch the
ferry, our taxi driver to the harbor, Amanda to withdraw money because
for some reason the boat decides to tack on an extra 100 cordoba to
leave the island vs. arriving (bike charge, supposedly), and me to
keep my head from exploding when the ATM won't take our cards and the
ferry won't let us pay with ~80-cordoba difference upon arrival in San
Jorge.
Of course, we find a grocery store that charges us 10% to run a credit
transaction and give us cash within a few minutes of the ferry
leaving.
So begins an extended saga of weirdness including several more taxi
rides, a stop at the Chaco Verde lagoon, 4 Swedish girls (Eliot, I
told you you should have come), a long walk in the dark with packs and
bikes, sleeping in the dirt for several hours, and, last but not
least, bananas before bikes.
When the ferry arrives at ~1am, 2 hours later than scheduled, the
bureaucrat at the ramp tells us we can't load our bikes until after
the bananas are on board. Not like a handful of bananas: like 20
refrigerator-sized banana bushel armies of bananas. We bitch, moan,
complain, and wait for awhile, but sheer exhaustion wins over taking a
stand in the face of absurdity: we board the boat and search for
seats.
"First class" means a.c. and less diesel smell, but it also means
everybody packs in. I can't fall asleep, my legs sore from 3 days'
hikes. Stretching outside, I see the bikes (and of course all of the
bananas) on board and us at a steady clip. Stretched and a little mor
relaxed, I go back in, finding even less space than before. Sleep is
a cold metal floor, my bookbag as a pillow, quickly offsetting any
luxury we might have experienced on this trip.