Friday, June 8 (Granada, Nicaragua) We had (very good) hotdogs a block away from the hostel after...exchanging money at the banks, then walked in town a bit. We learned that the weekly Friday festivals aren't all year and we missed the months. We ended up coming back out to see El Labryntino del Fauno (w/o subtitles) for ¢50 [córdobas] (~$3).

Earlier at the hostel we saw a sign for malaria pills and C made a comment about not being able to take them and (sarcastically) said, "I'm going to die." Someone overheard her and turned to quickly offer some pills she wasn't using. C laughed and said, no, she was joking (the woman was much relieved) and thanked her for the concern. We're beginning to get in a rhythm of relying on each others' strengths. She does much negotiation in Spanish (though I'm handling more and more little things solo) and I am holding the money and keeping the info (and carrying the bag). We still have a few quirks and burbles together to iron out, but I hope (and expect) this will come with time (and being well-rested and fed). Saturday, June 9, 2007 (Granada, Nic) I woke up early this morning and filled my water bottles for cheap. Then C and I got breakfast at this great pancake place (Ed's Nica Buffet)....

	We went to the convent, which...houses art and precolombian artifacts, notably some animistic-anthropomorphic statues from the Isla Zapatera.
	None of those pictures turned out particularly well, so instead here's some pottery samples (I think the painting design and coloration is incredibly intricate) and me in one of the "life then" display areas.

We also saw the Iglesia de La Merced, beautiful, and got to climb the 105 steps of the bell and clock tower for some amazing views....On the way back I bought some sliced tart mango. I've discovered (after turning it down from the vendor, but later giving it a go) that it's very good with salt.
Granada was really my favorite city of all the places we hit on this trip. Part of it was the sheer beauty of the place: cobblestone streets, multicolored houses and buildings, high rising churches of amazing color and form. And all tucked into a very nice valley with a mountain and hills in the distance.

We went to town and wandered for dinner. We wanted to do this Thai place we found, but they were out of gas – we may try again tomorrow – so we ended up at a place that does authentic Nica food.

So at dinner, C didn't eat much. She was grossed out by the main course, a nacatamal. It's a meat thing wrapped in a grain and platano crust, like an overgrown pastel, and served with coffee. Well, even the guy sitting outside the place (who seemed to have the menu memorized) highly recommended it with café negro. But we were unclear (from him and the menu) if the café was to be served poured on the nacatamal or separate. So I sweetened it (sugar was brought out with the café) and spooned some on part of it. I couldn't taste the coffee because the food's seasonings were so strong. At one point the server (owner?) came over and I'm so glad I was sipping the coffee at that moment (though I was then unsure if that was correct) and not spooning it on (or having poured it over and sitting on the plate). C then asked him how it was to be served and he quickly said after the meal, as a digestive (really? How?). What a cultural faux pas that could have been! We've been trying to think of a similar example of American cuisine and so far have nothing, but I know there's something comparable.

Vigorón. It's a Granadino treat of yucca root, pork rind, and a cabbage-based spicy slaw. I wasn't thrilled with the pork rind, but overall it was really good. I'd do it again tomorrow if possible and also eat from other stands in the park.

Sunday, June 10, 2007 (Granada, Nic)
Some things here are a little surreal and it's good to have someone to share it with. For example, C and I went to el Lago de Nicaragua today and on the way out of the lake's park area this train-style driven cart of children (and a few parents) passed. It was going super fast and blaring loud music. We wondered who would want to put kids on that. It was going the other way from us. As we reached the park gate it had looped around and passed us again (actually, there were two of them, a few minutes apart each time).

In the middle of dinner (at Thai Latina...) one of the "trains" passes by, just as loud. We stare at it in disbelief, then look at each other and bust out laughing at the absurdity of it all. Then, just a few minutes later, the 2nd one comes by, also headed into town. A perfect, unfathomable wrap to the evening.

We tried several foods today. We had a purple chillded fruit drink on the square, some super sweet pink candy (the square) that was reminiscent of something else, a large bean-looking pod thing with a fuzzy white, sweet covering on each "bean," and some fresh-fried plantain chips with a slaw and sauce similar to the vigorón. You can see the remnants of the plaintain chips with slaw in the video below. The video also has a a marimba band playing at the Parque Central in Granada. Good music, and a great scene all around. We also had way too big a breakfast, which reminded us to go back to sharing meals (really) to save money.

C and I took a boat tour today. She haggled the guy down from $20 to $15, which was still steep, but for about $1 more on the boat we ended up getting taken to an island to see monkeys. Way cool! They were spider monkey and just hung in the trees looking at us.
Of course, we realized after the fact that this was probably part of a regular "scam" (not that it was a really sinister one). The guy who made the deal with us offered us a half hour or an hour tour; we were guaranteed to see monkeys on the hour tour, but not on the half hour tour. Though we wanted the monkeys, the cost won out and we went with the shorter option. Near the end of our time, the boat driver (the dealer's brother) said if we'd give him a small tip he'd speed up and take us to see the monkeys. We agree and learn that the puttering pace we'd been using was barely a third of what the boat could actually do.
Cristine decided to go running with the bulls in Granada...the bulls that were ambling down the road, I might add.

We did a carriage ride through the city. Again, C bargained him down, but this time we voluntarily paid a bit more, because it was so good (he let us stop and get out twice at two different spots). He seemed happily surprised by it.

Monday, June 11, 2007 (Bearded Monkey, Granada) More on the surrealness of the city: There are many horse-drawn carts traversing amongst the cars. There are few buses, and of the ones I've seen, I'm not even sure they're public buses. It's a walkable city and it does have narrow one-way streets, but I'm still surprised (there aren't many taxis, either, but enough to be available should we want one). The map with the post office is wrong; it's not near the hostel, but further out, toward the lake. It brings to light many "basic services" that are distant or unreliable. Yesterday the water and power went out for part of the morning; the day before there was no running water. This seems common, too.

Today was a day at the Monkey Hut, on la Laguna de Apoyo. The whole day has been an adventure! We boarded (loaded) into the back of a pickup truck midmorning. There were 12 in total: 2 rode up front with the driver and the rest of us crammed in back with the luggage. It had a metal railing around the edge so we could all stand, which was great because there's no way we could have all done that sitting. The driver goes tearing down the highway, cutting across lanes when the road curves out and back in to keep a straight line (which I realize now was probably for our benefit). It could never happen like that in the states and for that I enjoyed it even more. It was one of the most fun rides I've had in a long time. Coming back was just as good, though there were only six of us (5 in the back -- the others were Welsh). Off the highway, we stopped at one point to drop off a tire (yes, of all thing), then a bit later to pick people up, then drop them off, just before arriving. Again, surreal, but very entertainingly surreal.

At the Monkey Hut...we went swimming, then I sat in the sun a bit to read, talk to Brendan and Danny [pictured below the canoe; who I'd met the night before at the Bearded Monkey and played 7 rounds of Nerts with], and also to Ronald, a guy from Holland Cristine met [And pictured below Brendan and Danny]. Ronald, C, and I took a canoe with a split apart kayak oar and went out on the lake (we were going to kayak caravan with Brendan and Danny, but there weren't enough oars and the other two were in use. This turned out to be the most memorable canoeing trip ever. Unbeknownst to us there was a small hole in the center of the canoe. Add to this that it was incredibly unstable, and I think three people just made all of that worse (it was designed for two). We hoped to paddle out to the other side and back in an hour. We'd laboriously made it ~¼ of the way when we realized this really wasn't working, so C decided to trade places with me and row (she had been in the middle with a tube). Worse idea. We kept taking on water (somehow) and also couldn't get turned around (we'd given up on the other side). Plus, the boat was becoming even more unstable. I kept wanting to jump out and swim back, but they said the movement would make the boat too unstable and it'd cap (it had done so when Ronald and I tried to get in at the shore). But I did need to move more to the middle and I was scared to because I'd have to stand up. I finally made it to standing, but the waves on the lake made it unstable again and in an instant I knew we were going over. I decided to jump, hoping that might fix it, but as I pushed my muscles to spring (unable to take it back) I knew that only made it worse. In we all went. We tried to get R and C back in the boat and that worked for a few minutes, but they couldn't get angled right and soon recapsized. We then tried to get just R in the boat and that's when we learned about the hole. He soon fell out again somehow (no, he jumped, realizing paddling was useless) and we ended up swimming to shore, R pushing the canoe, me pushing the tube, and C just keeping pace with us....

In some respects the hostel can really make the city. With a good location, good ambiance and vibe, good social space, it can make an excellent retreat from the day, a haven, a fun place to hang out. The Bearded Monkey meets this. In this respect, the hostels I was in in Madrid, Salzburg, and (to some degree) Frankfurt did this, too, in different ways. Also Barcelona. And I think Chartres could have, had I stayed longer. The Boston hostel could, but it seems to miss some key piece to perfect it. What is it? The biggest problem with the hostel is that the common area is too close to the dorms – and the music is too loud (and unnecessary).

Eventually it was time to leave behind the awesomeness that was Granada and travel on to the Corn Islands (perhaps the lowest point of our trip).

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