Playa El Tunco - Life's a Beach

Playa El Tunco is most traveller's sole stop in El Salvador. Its easy to take a shuttle from Leon, Nicaragua to El Tunco, and then on to Antigua, Guatemala. And since the (very incorrect) notion that El Salvador is a dangerous country to travel in is widespread, most people see this as a perfect solution to transit through El Salvador with this one layover. Plus, its beach town, and everyone loves a beach day (except Jonathan, of course).

This was our first stop in El Salvador and we didn't know what to expect. The US travel warning pretty much leaves one believing that they are going to be murdered the second they step on El Salvadorian soil. Having not met a traveller who was directly coming from El Salvador while we were in Nicaragua the only information that we had was third party and thereby almost completely unreliable.

We had booked ahead, for the reasons above, because we were under the impression that it was high season and because we thought that after an overnight shuttle we wouldn't want to look around for somewhere to stay. It was a bad decision, in hindsight. It's not that we got ripped off, although I'm sure we could have gotten the same room for much cheaper if we had shown up and bargained for it. It was that the room was a luxurious apartment and that we really just didn't need that much space and luxury and could have spent our resources much more wisely. That being said- since we had it, we took advantage of it, swimming in the pool and lounging in the beautifully kept garden.

El Tunco is all about surfing. Talk to any surfer dude and they'll tell you that El Tunco has the best

breaks around- whatever that means. What it meant to us was that as we were watching the sunset behind El Tunco's picturesque rock, we had the added entertainment of the surfers.

We could grab a cold beer at one of the little convenience stores along the pedestrian road and watch the scene unfold while sitting on the breakwall. Or, if we felt like splurging, we could grab a drink at any of the beach front bars. It was a nightly ritual that we would not tire of quickly.

El Tunco's beach is black sand but its really more of a rock beach made up of layers of smooth little rocks. Not pebbles, rocks about the size of half of your palm and bigger. It made for a very pretty beach that was not good for walking. It made up for its un-walkability with the sound that the rocks made as they tumbled over each other when each wave receded. Calming. I wish I could have recorded it to listen to as I fell asleep.

Our days in El Tunco were only productive if you count swimming, hammocking, sipping on frozen drinks seaside, eating pupusas and watching surfers get exercise a meaningful way to spend your time. Thankfully we do- at least for a few days!

 

Our fancy hotel: Eco Lodge del Mar

Leon to El Tunco Shuttle

It was super easy to organize a shuttle from Leon, Nicaragua to El Tunco, El Salvador. There were a lot of travel agencies who could have done it for you, you could do it online, or, like we did, have your hostel arrange it. The shuttle cost $45 each and picked us up at our hostel (Tortuga Balooda) at 2am. We were the first ones to be picked up and the driver directed us to the best seats in the van (the only ones with leg room). He turned the AC on high and we drove across town to pick up the other passengers. The other passengers turned out to be one big group of French people. When we pulled up in front of their hostel I noticed an extremely intoxicated gringo stumbling towards us without shoes on, wearing a neon 'Tona' (Nicaraguan Beer brand) shirt with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. I judged him, and not kindly. When he reached the hostel's door there was a bit of a discussion with a lot of pointing towards the shuttle. Oh yes, he was coming with us.

Everyone's bag got thrown on top of the bus and strapped down under tarps (except for ours, because they're small, our bags rode inside with us) and all 9 of us piled in. Off we went into the night. The roads in Nicaragua are impressive. Smooth and new looking. Around 4am we got to the Honduran border. Our driver collected all of our passports. All except our drunk friend who couldn't find his. He thought maybe he had left his passport in his bag, which was strapped to the roof of the van, under all the other bags. I judged him again, even more unkindly. I didn't care how drunk he was- I thought he was an idiot. Common sense IS the least common of the senses, as they say. Dear idiot: you are on an international shuttle in which you are going to have to show your passport no fewer than SIX times- not including roadside stops. (They were going on to Antigua, Guatemala). The driver, always with a smile, climbed onto the roof and passed the bag down to his friends. They literally emptied his bag out onto the disgusting sidewalk (which, I won't lie- gave me a small amount of satisfaction). After a few frantic minutes in which it seemed that his passport was equally likely to be back in Leon than it was to be in his bag, one of his friends pulled his hand from an inner pocket in the bag and produced the missing passport. Darn. We don't get to leave him at the Honduran border after all. Kidding! (J: She's not). We had to pay a $7 each for the processing fee (and then got a receipt for $3 from the Honduran officials.) I don't know whether the driver pocketed the extra or he paid the Honduras officer to expedite the process, or if it costs more in the middle of the night- all are equally possible.  Either way the driver handled everything and we didn't even talk to an official. I personally hope that the driver got the money- he deserves it for dealing with a bunch of gringos in the middle of the night. It was all a little weird, but easy peasy.

The Honduran roads were significantly less impressive; jostling us in and out of an uncomfortable sleep. Leaving Honduras was the same as entering. The driver handled everything and we stayed in the AC van. Crossing in to El Salvador we got our own passports back and presented them to the friendly official ourselves. I always notice what a difference it makes to actually look at the officer, smile and say 'Hola.' Why people give more common courtesy to a waiter than they do to a foreign official baffles my mind (J: From someone who waited tables in his younger years, I don't necessarily agree with this statement.) Starting by treating the officer like a person, instead of an obstacle is always a good way to ensure a pleasant exchange. There was no fee to enter El Salvador and because of the 4 country agreement between Nicaragua, El Salvador, Guatemala and Honduras, no stamp. (Although apparently Honduras has forgotten that it is a signatory of this agreement. In theory, one should be able to travel between the countries by land for up to 90 days without having to do new entrance paperwork or stamps).

The sun was up by this time (its up at 5:30), so we had the pleasure of seeing the El Salvadorian landscape on our way through. It was gorgeous. Green hills and thick lush foliage in every direction. We made a couple stops to get gas and eat. It was uneventful, which is always a good thing when it comes to transport.

We turned off the highway and down to El Tunco, which is a popular beach stop for foreign and domestic travelers. Most foreigners catch a shuttle to El Tunco from Nicaragua and then another shuttle on to Antigua, Guatemala.

We had made a rookie mistake and booked an expensive room in advance. The mistake was not in booking ahead. It was booking a room for MUCH more than we had been paying in Nicaragua, thinking El Tunco would be super busy and everything would be full. Which it was not, at all. It's November- which hotels claim to be the beginning of the high season, but we have come to know that the high season in Central America really doesn't start until December. So- fear not, November travelers- you're all good!

From the Lazy Turtle to The Surfing Turtle (Lodge)

Its nice when something isn't what you expect it to be, but surprisingly better and a bit more of an adventure. That's what happened to us when we decided on a whim to spend a day at the chillaxed, sun drenched, Surfing Turtle Lodge outside of Leon.

Leon is known for its volcano boarding. We aren't really adrenaline junkies, but I was willing to give it a shot anyways. Jonathan was dead set against it, the old man that he is. But then I saw that our hostel, Tortuga Balooda (The Lazy Turtle) was offering a tour that sounded perfect for us. It was down to the ocean, which isn't far from Leon, and there was a boat ride through mangroves, a beach stop and then you would go to a local turtle sanctuary to help release baby turtles in the evening. Hook, line and sinker- they reeled me in- Hopefully very UNLIKE what would happen to the baby turtles I was about to meet. I would pick baby turtles over hurling myself down a steaming volcano any day.

The issue with the turtles here is that when mommy turtles come to the beach to lay their eggs, locals

steal them and sell them at the market to eat. These people are poor and just trying to feed their families. The turtles are endangered and clearly eating them is not going to help the matter. More than a few organizations along the coast have stepped up and they actually buy the eggs from the nest poachers, which they then bury in the sand in a protected area to hatch. Then the turtles are released and everyone keeps their fingers crossed.

So, we skipped the boarding and signed up for the baby turtles. And then the Baby Turtle Tour (its not actually called that) got cancelled. I was so disappointed. Our hostel manager was awesome and called a bunch of different tour operators in Leon to see if they had anything similar going that day, but no one did. Our shuttle to El Salvador wasn't leaving until 2am and I was determined to find something exciting to do with our last day in Nicaragua. J and I went out on a fun-finding hunt. We talked to a couple tour agencies, a couple hostels and then came upon the Surfing Turtle Hostel. The well spoken man at the desk told us about their sister hostel on a private island (very close to mainland) in the Pacific. They are one of the places that collects the turtle eggs, buries them and then releases them into the ocean after they hatch. They had released over 100 the day before! And, conveniently they had a 'direct' shuttle for $3 in a little over an hour to their resort and it would only cost $3 to hang out at the resort all day long. With any luck baby turtles were breaking out of their shells as we ran back to our hostel to grab our bathing suits and would be ready to be released (with my help) that very day!

The 'direct' shuttle started out predictably. One driver, one lodge employee and 7 tourists clambered into the van and it drove us down to the ocean in about 30 minutes. The road ended at the ocean. It literally sloped down and disappeared into the Pacific. The tide was out. We followed the group, only one of whom seemed to know what was going on around the back of a restaurant and onto the mucky ocean floor. We tossed off our flip flops and let the muck squish between our toes. It was unexpected- but fun. After 10 minutes or so we came to a river. There were 2 boats waiting there. One big, shiny safe looking boat with a decent size motor- and the one we were taking. Our boat was 12ft long and about 3 ft wide at its maximum. The fiberglass was cracked, the wood benches were rotting and there was a good 6 inches of water in the bottom of the boat. Four massively overstuffed backpacks and various other bags filled the front quarter of the boat. We all stood there, looking dubiously at our awaiting transportation. They motioned for 4 people to get in. We did. I assumed, our Captain was going to make 2 trips. The 'captain' surveyed the boat and its contents. 'Everyone In!' someone translated. I gaffed. Nine adults, only 2 of whom were Nica sized, and all those bags in this tiny boat!? I didn't even think it was physically possible. But, it happened. Three per bench. I was sweating all over this pour stranger unfortunate enough to be sitting next to me. The 'Captain' pushed us off. Without exaggeration our gunnels were one inch above the water. And, this was THE tippiest boat I had EVER been in. Now, J and I have been on many different transport boats on the course of our travels. We've been on ferries of every size, in varying degrees of decrepidness we have been on long boats that use whipper snippers for motors, dug out canoes and make shift glass bottom boats . We've

been on junks and boats that were super junky. Once we even commandeered a bamboo raft to get to our next night's sleep. Lots of boat action in lots of countries with little to no regard for safety- and I have never been so sure in my life, that my boat was going to tip. This even includes the time that I watched J take our very own 12ft aluminum boat, full to the gunnels with rain water, out into the middle of the lake with the genius idof of getting the boat moving really fast and then taking the plug out of the bottom to drain it. (Epic fail, in case the result of that wasn't obvious). I yelled profanities at him from the dock and even THEN I was less sure that he was going to sink than I felt at that very moment in Nicaragua. Let me preface this by saying that the river we were crossing was very narrow- maybe 30ft wide. It was the only water left with the tide out. Narrow, but deep, the Lodge employee pointed out- and full of things like stingrays and other bite-y sea creatures. Helpful bit of information to get when you are out in the middle of this river, listing terrifyingly to the port side. Yup, that definitely calmed the spirits. In truth, I was only concerned about my phone, which was zipped up in my pocket. What I really wanted to do was take it out and hold it above my head for the entire journey. But I couldn't move for fear of taking the whole boat over with me. I didn't even want to breathe heavy in fear of it unbalancing the boat. So I sat there, super tense, eyes wide and locked on Jonathan's in terror, sweating profusely on the poor Ozzie stranger. For the entire time.

I will swear until the end of my days that it was by some miracle that we landed on the other side of the river, dry and with the boat still facing upwards. We exited the boat much, much quicker than we had boarded.

It was on to the third unexpected chapter of our direct shuttle- a jungle trek. Because, why not? It was a beautiful, wide path pot-marked with huge puddles from the rainy season and muddy footprints. But it was flat, and easy and I had a feeling that the direct shuttle had almost made it to the beach.

The thatched roof of a beach cabanas came into view. The property was gorgeous and definitely worth the adventurous journey to spend the day there. We found a hammock in the shade spent the day swinging, reading, swimming and sipping on cold drinks. J played the guitar from his hammock perch and instantly gathered a small following of females. We ate dinner in the main atmospheric cabana as a downpour started. There was lightning and thunder, and quite storm whipped itself up. We had booked a shuttle back to Leon ($14) at 8pm, and were both wondering how that was going to work out, and hoping that the rain would stop. Thankfully the rain did stop for us, but sheet lightning continued to flash brightly in the black sky.

Instead of walking back through the jungle a horse and wooden cart awaited us. I could tell that this was going to be fun. Except that J is allergic to horses. He insisted he was fine so we hopped into the cart and bumped down the path, through the massive puddles in absolute blackness to the clip-cloppity sounds of the horse. The lightning lit up the jungle sporadically giving the entire scene an otherworldly feel. I felt like I was in Game of Thrones, taking the Kings Road up to visit Jon Snow at the Wall. It was surreal.

And then we got to the waters edge. A waterlogged, ancient dug out canoe sat on the shore sinking into the sand. I wondered if this would be a better or worse option than the boat that brought us here. The tide was back in and there was a lot more water than when we arrived. We waited 10 minutes before we saw the flashlight beam sweep across us from somewhere in the black water. I could tell before I could even see the boat, that it was the same, scary super tippy boat that had brought us here. Oh boy. We said hello to our Captain again and carefully climbed back into the dreaded boat. With only 4 people and no bags, the boat was still unreasonably tippy. But, this time we at least had a good 6 inches of boat out of the water. Although we still had the same 6 inches of water inside the boat. We set off. It was so black that we couldn't tell the sky from the water and the water from the land. It wasn't until we had passed them that our Captain's flashlight haphazardly passed over sharp looking wooden spikes protruding out of the water. How many more invisible dangers lurked out in the blackness? It was a scary thought. Thankfully I could see the faint lights of the shore growing closer

and it would all be over soon, back safe on solid ground. Then, out of nowhere, there was yelling back on the shore we came from. A yelling conversation over the water ensued. I have no idea what happened, but suddenly the boat was turning back around and headed back to the wrong shore! No! Nooooo!!

We approached the shore again. There was a man knee deep in the water. The boat neared him and he tossed something into the boat. There was the sound that I could only deduce was a crab's shell scraping along the inside of the boat and dropping into the water  in the bottom. I swear there was a scuttling noise. The boat turned back around for the far sure. We were in complete blackness and now there was apparently an angry crab scurrying around somewhere near my toes. Not that I could confirm that of course- but I also couldn't confirm that I still had all my toes, since I couldn't see them. On our second attempt, we made it all the way back across the water to the shore where our taxi was waiting. I counted upon arrival- all 10 toes intact.

Our taxi driver was friendly and eager to practice his Spanglish with us. As an added bonus, we

learned two interesting tidbits. First, that our driver refers to his girlfriend hilariously as his 'Controller.' And second, that the canal that is (sadly) being built through Lake Nicaragua is going to cost fifty hundred thousand million dollars. Oh, the things you learn in the back of a cab!



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Lazing in Leon

We liked Leon, Nicaragua more than Granada for reasons I can't quite put my finger on. It was still very hot, and there were lots of tourists but it had a very different feel about it. Parque Central was a place we actually wanted to hang out, there were lots of great places to eat and drink and stroll, and our hostel, Tortuga Balooda was fantastic. We mostly wandered, did some laundry and caught up on a few blogs, and caught up on some housekeeping related items while sitting on our own private terrace. Here's our lens on Leon:

Jinotega to Leon - Chicken Bus Style

Our goal: To get from Jinotega (Pronounced Hinotayga) in the Nicaraguan Highlands to Leon, in the sultry lowlands.
What we knew:  Only what our out-of-date Lonely Planet Guide Book said (aka: pretty much nothing).
The adventure: A bus was probably leaving Jinotega at 9am to go to Esteli, another town in the Highlands. The guidebook said it would take 1.5hours. The first half of that was correct, at least. We got on the bus and bought a ticket. It was an actual ticket, which was rare, with a little bus picture and it said Jinotega- Esteli, 9am-11:45am. Hmmm. Well that was certainly longer than 1.5hours. It seemed a little long, considering the relatively short distance, but then again, just the other day it had taken us 1.5 hours to go 34kms, so it certainly wasn't put of the realm of possibilities.

The difference between this bus and the last bus was that this bus had a sound system. A very loud one.With a TV. Our 2.75 hours of entertainment kicked off with some good old Nica Spanish rappers. The bus was quite literally vibrating with the thumping base when we turned off the smooth highway and onto an unpaved, pothole stricken, dirt road. Ahhhhh the 2.75 hour journey suddenly made sense. Just then, because throwing some English words into music is cool I suppose, the singer started yelling, 'Its all fine, because she makes wine." These were the English words he chose to add to his rap song. Then it was all 'fine because he made wine', and then because 'we made wine'. All I could hope was that, at some point, someone was going to give me some of that wine, because I was getting a headache.

After a few more Rap ditties, our bus DJ/ ticket sales man changed the channel on the entertainment system. Up next: Zumba class. Yes, like the exercise class you take at the gym. Zumba girls danced around in gym clothes to fast music, doing a mesmorizing sequence of salsa steps and exercise moves. That was weird. I did what anyone would do in this situation and cracked open a chocolate bar.

When we had all finished our bus-ercising the DJ changed the station again to slow, sappy, Spanish love songs. All accompanied by long, sappy, romantic music videos. It was like watching a car crash- so horrible, but impossible to look away. Crying women and begging men, rain, sunsets and still more tears. Oh the drama!

Thankfully the spectacular scenery was just about powerful enough to pull my gaze away from the on-screen drama. It really was beautiful, and I found myself almost a little happy that we had chosen this (unknowingly) longer route.

We arrived in Esteli almost on time. We found an Esteli-Leon mini bus almost instantly. Unfortunately there was no one else on it. This was bad news bears as mini buses only leave when they're full. We waited and waited. It had been an hour. As people slowly drifted to the bus I found myself hoping, well it probably doesn't have to be ALL the way full, right? We can pick up people on the way? J looked dubious. Not likely. It had to be full. The 9 year daughter of one the stall owners decided that she wanted to be friends with us, so that was a bit entertaining, but otherwise, the 1.5 hours that it took to fill the entire bus (including the middle seat beside the driver) went slowly. Imagine that there was this system at home? You just show up at the bus station and have to wait around until 10 other people also randomly decide they also want to go on a bus ride. Actually its pretty fun to imagine it. 

Anyways, we eventually set off again, headed further south still. It began to get hot almost immediately as we left the highlands. The thick forest was replaced by flat fields. We were rewarded however, with another amazing view: the volcanoes. The flat land stretched out all around and the volcanoes popped up along the horizon, the perfectly symmetrical cones encircling us. They were beckoning: On to Leon! So, on we went.

Information is hard to come by in Nicaragua's Highlands, so here's some information that I wish we would have had:

We thought it would be the easiest to take the bus from Jinotega - Esteli and then on to Leon, as opposed to backtracking to Matagalpa. Morning buses from Jinotega to Esteli (40 cordoba/$2 USD) leave at 7am and 9am. We took the 9am bus. It took much longer than expected, almost 3 hours. But it was a beautiful ride. From Esteli, mini buses (75 cordoba/$3 USD) leave for Leon when full. Totally full. That ride takes about 2 hours and leaves you at the Leon bus station. From there we took a 20 cordoba (each) taxi into the awesome Tortuga Balooda Hostal. In hindsight, it might have been better to take the bus Jinotega- Matagalpa and then to Leon, but I guess it depends on the bus timing from Matagalpa to Leon. There aren't mini buses from Matagalpa- Leon.

La Bastilla Ecolodge- The Actual Fun Part

 

It was love at first sight for us with La Bastille Ecolodge- and that was before we had even seen our night's accommodation!

We had opted for a first class camping experience. We had read between the lines. When Karel

showed us to our tent platform- we knew we had interpreted the website's description perfectly. Our 6 person Coleman tent had a double mattress in it and towels that were fashioned into flowers sitting on top of a cozy looking fleece. Were we actually somewhere that would get chilly enough for us to require a blanket at night? How exciting! Also, on our large platform was an open air bathroom complete with a hot water shower and some nifty artwork. It was the front of our platform that really stole our hearts- a wide terrace with 2 wooden rocking chairs jutting out over the valley and surrounded by some of the most stunning scenery we had ever seen. To make it even more impressive, the entire property had been designed so that everyone's terrace faced a different direction, so not only did you have a disarmingly beautiful vista- but you felt like you had it all to yourself. And, truth be-told- we kind of did have it all to ourselves. Other than us, there was 1 other guest at the Ecolodge! Sigh. paradise.

Our love affair was only confirmed as the afternoon progressed. The only sounds to be heard was that of exotic birds and rustling palms. Butterflies that I had only ever seen before in conservatories fluttered about. There were bright little lizards that sometimes popped in for a visit. And for the first time on our entire trip- I considered putting on long sleeves. We went on a gorgeous hike up through the coffee plants that offered spectacular panoramas in every direction. The coffee was freshly roasted, and free, as were the delicious daily made fruit juices. The days were spent sitting on our porch, not wanting to do anything that would force us to tear our gazes away from the view. Evening started with yummy food, and a cold beer and wound down with us back on our rocking chairs, watching the fireflies flit about through the trees. It was absolute perfection.

It was probably a good thing that a few days later, a group was checking in and taking over the entire resort, forcing us to have to vacate our dream tent- otherwise, we may have never left. Maybe a piece of us never did...