The holiday from travelling

Rich and I met up in Managua on Sunday, 20 June. Rich had flown straight in from New Jersey after a quick decision a week before to come down for a quick holiday. My job was to take care of the hotel in Managua and the flights to the Corn Islands. All of that went smoother than I expected since you just call the airline, put your name down and show up on the day. No payment, no contact details, no passport details. But the system works. We showed up at 5am on Monday morning to the queue at the airport. Once it was our turn at the counter, sure enough our names were listed for the 6.30am flight. We sat there with our giant laminated, reusable boarding passes until our flight was called.

I’ve heard stories of people taking 10 days to get here from the other side of Nicaragua, pangas (boats) down rivers, stopping in different towns, chicken buses, etc. There is really no schedule for the boats from Bluefields on the mainland to Big Corn. Well, they say there is a schedule but everyone you ask tells you different days. Reality is they wait for enough people to pay for the fuel, and right now it is low season.

For us it was easy, the plane made a stop in Bluefields for 15 minutes and just after 8am we had arrived on Big Corn. A short taxi ride to the port where we had breakfast and waited for the 10am panga to Little Corn.

Having not seen each other for about six and a half years, Rich and I had much to catch up on so the night before we would have been lucky to get an hour sleep before we had to get up at 4am to get to the airport.

Waiting on the dock at Big Corn, we were so close but not yet there, was a little frustrating. It was hot, then it rained, then it was hot again. There was some trouble with the boat, they wanted to take a stack of beer across but the police got involved. They let them take the ice across (the ice machine on Little Corn is broken) but no beer. So after they settled all of that in their own time we were off on our little panga to Little Corn.

The panga comes across from Big Corn to Little Corn twice a day and once you get here there is a welcoming committee of people from the two dive shops and various places to stay, all trying to help you out. They seem pushy but once you’ve been here for a while you realise they are more friendly and helpful than pushy. A couple of times we even went down to check out the ‘freshies’ – something to do I guess.

It is fair to say that we did not do much that first week. We met a couple from Utah, Kat and Riley, who were also staying at Carlito’s and we spent most evenings together - drinking, telling stories, swimming, getting rowdy and jumping off the banana boat. A large part of our daily routine was morning swim, shower, breakfast, going across to the other side of the island to watch the world cup – most days we watched a game at Sweet Oasis at lunch time where we could sit around the bar, drink beer and eat tacos or quesadillas. Come back, swim, nap, drink beer and decide where to go for dinner. We did also manage to do some snorkeling one day and circumnavigate the island on the banana boat another.

It has been interesting staying here and chatting to both long-term tourists and locals and getting a feel for island life. After about 36 hours here you meet most people you need to and everyone is extremely friendly. Jeff, the Aussie guy from the one dive shop we met on the dock when we first arrived, has been here for seven months. We asked how much longer he’ll stay – ‘til I stop smiling he said. It really is that kind of place – everyone is always happy, friendly and chilled out.

There are many stories we've heard and I will probably put those into separate posts. The reality of any island paradise is that there is a darkness and sadness to it somewhere, particularly in a poor country like Nicaragua. And I guess even more so when you consider that the eastern half of Nicaragua is under special administration and run quite differently and separately to the rest of the country. Even then the mainland isn't too bothered about the Corn Islands, and Big Corn is not that bothered about Little Corn. There are a couple of police who patrol the island occasionally but it seems they have had more success in the past with shooting themselves (accidentally) and each other (on purpose) than dealing with crime. The island tends to be self-policing to a large extent so anyone caught stealing or ripping off tourists or businesses is banished from the island. Sometimes sent to prison, sometimes disappearing never to be seen again. So the island is a safe place to be but no thanks to the police.