So it’s 2am here in San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua and the music is pumping! Okay, the music is pumping and I’m in bed not sleeping. I just shoved orange foam things in my ears and found a George Winston radio station on Apple Radio to try and get some shut eye. Chances that might happen? Doubtful.
This is unfortunate since I’m trying to rest up from the 28 hour journey that got me here. A 12:30pm bus from Portland to Boston Logan. A 5pm initial flight to Fort Lauderdale followed by a four hour lay over. The second flight left at midnight and arrived in Managua at 3 am. (Did I mention I won’t fly Spirit again if I can at all help it?) I got a few hours sleep and a great breakfast before I was in a very bouncy truck with two other young women and our intrepid driver Norman zooming through the Nicaraguan countryside. We zipped by a “chicken” bus (an old school bus now used to move everyone and all their stuff) and a tractor trailer that had dramatically driven off the road–probably due to the haphazard and reckless passing that goes on. That said, who wants to be behind a slow going donkey and cart, or truck with passengers jammed in the truck bed? Not Norman that’s for sure.
We stopped part way to pick up two of our surf instructors who had gone to market. They were so young and full of zest that I ignored my growing car sickness for another half hour or so. Finally though, I had to cry “uncle” and ask to pull over to get some lunch and a break.
The rest of the drive, was better with something in my belly. The land opened to numerous sorghum fields and a wind farm. A volcanic island rose majestically from the middle of a giant lake (I’ll get you names when it’s not 2:30 am). Skinny dogs, horses and cows continued to line the roads but we also saw a wedding and other celebrations.
In San Juan del Sur at last, we found our bedrooms in the Chica Brava Surf House, and had quick orientation so we wouldn’t miss sunset. Good thing too. It was absolutely beautiful. Coral skies over grey ocean with boats silhouetted black on the horizon. We toured the town, ate tostones (fried mashed plantains) and drank Mojitos with fresh mint, then had gelato. I fell into bed at 8:30.
The music has isn’t shaking my bed quite so much. Oh. Wait. I spoke too soon. Anyway, I’d better try to sleep again. We start early tomorrow with our surf board assignments and surf safety and theory. My goal? Get a consistent pop up by midweek. Pictures of the Board Room and surf house when it’s light. Hasta mañana.
Creative Chaos 
Fantastic. I was at Tamarindo, Costa Rica, earlier this year, and I decide I, too, would surf. I was super surprised to have a bit of an aptitude for it–mostly I thought it would end badly and I’d write about it. My major problem was my blindness. I’d forgotten contacts in the States, not wearing them except for running these days, and so I bought a mask. Didn’t know what to call a mask in Spanish. It is not “goggles.” So, I finally got one, only to realize masks over goggles fog up. I threw both to the sand and surfed blind. There are only two things you need to discern as a blind surfer–the color of the ocean, and the color of the beach. All else is silly detail.
Anyway, I hope your Christmas surf trip is very wonderful, and that we get a chance to connect soon:)
Chica brava indeed brava!
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