León was the city of rocking chairs, no doubt, Renata was enchanted and wanted to try them all.

“They remind me of my grandmother and Santo Domingo!”

Two weekends ago, Renata, Den and I travelled to León on a Friday afternoon, with no plan other than relaxing, wandering around and spending time together. And so we did. And had great food. And made a lot of jokes. And met some fascinating people who invited us to their homes, told us about their ambitions and shared their pride in their background. I took a walk by myself to the Central Market where I met a mother who had hung up a mini-hammock for her three-year-old son, Darwin, to hang in while she was selling bananas all day, every day. A young man with impeccable English was fixing watches as life in Texas had become too difficult after the economic crisis and because he had never managed to feel integrated even after living there for more than 20 years.

León struck me as a very religious city, where almost every house had a little (or huge) altar, and a church could be found every three blocks. One of the most interesting places we found was the small game court where kids and adolescents were playing soccer, skating, riding bikes and hanging out. We took a seat watching the big group of quite talented 9-22 year-olds as they were taking turns in using the five skateboards. I had a talk with one of the boys as he was waiting for his turn, 14 years old with a beautiful afro and great skating skills, the boy was studying during the days and working at a car wash in the weekends and evenings to save up for a new skateboard.

“My old board broke so I have to work for three months before I can buy a new one. The skateboards here are very expensive, they cost at least 45 Dollars, but it’s great that I can borrow my friends’ boards to skate for a couple of hours every evening. At least until 8pm, if I stay longer my mom gets angry and comes to pick me up. Haha”

On our last day, Den and I managed to get hold of Daneff and have another one of our Skype reunions. It was great fun to have a talk all three of us again, and then Den, Renata and I took a million photos and laughed our heads off. All and all, we had good fun together and I felt that we were getting along really well as our preferences were always so aligned and as we all are so used to being independent, yet warm and open. It was really sad to leave Den in León and go back to Managua, and the next morning Renata took off to the airport as well. Seriously, I can’t wait to see these two happy-faces again.

Love you, girls! “We so funny!”

In León, many people have transformed the entrance of their houses to little shops selling groceries, rocking chairs and cooked food. People here in Nicaragua tend to engage in many forms of businesses at the same time, and most houses have their front doors open to the street anyway to let the breeze in. I was invited to many people’s homes during the walks around this charming city and at one point, we found a little grocery shop where a man was sitting in front of a canvas filled with little dots, creating a colourful image of Nicaragua’s volcanoes. The man’s name was Alejandro Benito Cabrera, and he has been painting for more than 20 years, selling his paintings internationally. Alejandro’s wife paints too, and he pointed out some of her works hanging on the walls of the little grocery shop while the wife stood outside going through the groceries.

“You can’t take photos of my pieces, but I will let you take a photo of this specific one.”

the artist said, adjusting a beautiful painting hanging behind us. It was a painting so full of detail and things going on that it became my favourite in the little room. Alejandro didn’t mind being in the picture with it, putting on a face that was both serious and proud.

“I will visit your website”

Alejandro said as we were leaving. I hope he does.

Visit Indigo Arts Gallery, to purchase paintings by Alejandro Benito Cabrera and his wife. Try finding the little grocery shop if you are heading towards the Subtiava church from the center of León.

Images from Indigoarts.com

We arrived to San Juan del Sur at 7pm, after a two hour long busride where there were no free seats left. So we stood up all the way, Renata and I, and had a long talk about life, work and things that have happened since we met last time two years ago when both living in Barcelona.

In San Juan, we found a room to share for 15$ in a guesthouse close to the beach called Brisas y Olas, and then took a walk around the little town and shared a plate of traditional Nicaraguan Fritanga. On the next day, we went to Playa Hermosa where we had a nice walk but didn’t swim as it was cloudy. After coming back to San Juan and having a shower, we went out for a walk, met a sailor with a parrot, and had a great evening with hours of talking, a setting sun and fantastic seafood at Bambú restaurant.

During the walk back to the hotel we suddenly heard loud music coming from far from a colourful tent. “Is that a circus?” I asked. “That’s random. I have never been to a circus” Renata said. So we went. And indeed, it was. A circus. With clowns, monkeys, an ostrich, a busty girl named “Barbara” doing a sexy dance, and a nervous lion. I felt extremely uneasy about seeing the lion in a small cage with curious kids running around and parents taking photos with flash. The monkey was called Shakira and was forced by a bored clown to “get drunk” by drinking from a bottle and then fall from her chair as the kids were laughing. All I could think of were the magnificent lions I had seen in their natural habitat in Swaziland and Namibia, the abandoned chimpanzees I had seen in the Chimp Eden in South Africa and how wrong it was to see the animals in this context, humiliated, abused, in small cages and funny clothes. I also thought of how little access there is to entertainment for these children, and how much fun it must be to see a circus, and about how “Barbara’s sexy dance” probably was a way to entertain the parents. Still inappropriate.

We went back to the hotel and continued talking, and in the morning the next day it was sunny enough for both of us to drink cocktails on the beach, get a tan, and then get massage preparing for another two hour bus ride.

When arriving at where the bus should be waiting, we found out that the last bus to Managua was broken and wouldn’t be leaving. So we jumped on a bus to Rivas instead, and I was trying to sleep through my stomach cramps. Just before Rivas, the busdriver shouted that the bus going to Managua was leaving, so we jumped out and I got on the bus while Renata ran to the bathroom. The bus was almost completely full and I was in the front looking out the window to see whether Renata was coming. The bus started moving and I shouted “Wait for my friend! I’m going off!” the bus driver answered “Don’t worry, we will wait.” as he continued driving away. Renata came out and noticed that the bus was not where she had seen it before and I yelled out the window, “RENATA!” She saw us and started running and everybody started yelling “Renata! Hurry Renata! Wait for Renata!! Renata, Renata!” and then there was a unison “She’s on!!” as Renata jumped on the bus through the back door. The bus driver asked again “Is Renata with us?” we answered “Yes!” and we drove off on a bumpy ride towards Managua. Renata and I on each far end of the bus. A five-year-old in my lap.

The feeling I got when first stepping into the crystal clear water on the beach just in front of my bungalow was pure happiness, zen and an instant release of all tensions. The temperature of the water was perfect and it was beautifully turquoise. I was thrown into contemplation about the beauty of my reality and thanked myself for enduring all those late hours at the office – if this is what I can actually get in return for working hard, life is absolutely amazing.

And yes, it’s up to me to make sure that I save enough money, allocate enough time and make all those planning efforts needed to keep being able to arrange cheap and beautiful get-away’s and battery charging trips like this. They bring me that extra dose of inspiration and energy to continue doing what I do, and those travel friendships and stories shared by kind people that I can’t get enough of.

So I arrived to Little Corn at 11am and found my way to a Lodge called Cool Spot which is situated right on the beach just like most places on the little island. I got away very cheap as I got my own bungalow for 15USD, and I headed straight out to the sun where I had a swim, a 3USD traditional Nica breakfast and instantly met new friends. One of them was the local diving instructor and crab-fisher Wyvon – his favourite song is the Titanic song and I have him on video singing it for me. One of many videos to look forward to.

While taking a walk around the little village later on I met Marcelo who also lives at Little Corn, he invited me for traditional Latin American ceviche (fresh raw fish marinated in lime and spiced with ají, chili and onion.) that him and his fiends were going to prepare and eat at the place where I lived. So I joined the Corn Islanders, a group of Nicaraguans who have chosen to dedicate their lives to travels and handicrafts sales and three travelling German girls who had joined the guys and travelled with them the past month – the ceviche was amazing, the company was fun and inspiring.

Later on in the night we walked to a nightclub where we spoke to local fishermen and danced a bit, it was Sunday, so it was quite calm and I decided to leave a bit earlier. One of the guys, Carlos, followed me home through the dark jungle and I was amazed by the sounds of the nature and by how strong the moonlight was. “The Island is completely safe,” Carlos explained, “you can walk around alone in the night, carry your big camera, everything. There is a system in the community that if somebody commits a crime and you know about it, you have to report it not to be considered an accomplice. People are generally calm and happy so it’s very, very safe here. This is why I live here, the place has a positive energy.”

The next morning I woke up early with the sun shining in through between the boards of my door, I opened my bungalow and let the sea breeze in and then spent the morning at the beach where I continued talking with Wyvon and his friend the Rastaman who both speak Creole English and insisted on calling me Coraline. I spent the day like that, reading, talking to people, and going for a walk and lunch with Annika, one of the German girls.

Hannah, the absolutely beautiful Japanese-Mongolian-Something-German girl who had chosen to join the Nicaraguan handicrafters and learn their skills offered to braid a decoration into my hair just like the one’s the rest of the group were wearing. I happily accepted, chose the colours I wanted, and spent the next hour sitting with the group and chatting about the mayans and vegetarianism while everybody were working on something, Carlos was making a necklace, Carlos 2 was fixing the seams on my leather bag, Wyvon was talking about Obama and bringing us coconuts from the palm trees on the beach, Darwin was smiling, and Hannah was working on my hair.

In the evening Reina, one of the local girls, invited us to come over to her place to cook the traditional Jamaican dish Run Down. So we took that beautiful walk to the other side to the island guided by the moonlight once again, and the guys started cooking. I was amazed by how they simply cut the coconuts, vegetables and bananas straight off from the plants in the garden to start preparing the fish stew. Everything was peeled, the coconuts were graded and then Marcelo added water to the graded coconut and extracted the coconut milk that the stew was based on. Everything was made from scratch and thrown into a big bowl that was placed on a fire next to us. In the meantime, Darwin kept cutting down more coconuts, both the brown and the orange kind, from the trees around us and opening them so that we could drink coconut water and eat while we were waiting. It was like being in paradise where everything was simple and 3 year old Isak and his baby-brother Ivan were playing around. And there was a monkey.

Yes. Reina and her sister Shana have a baby monkey in their garden. His name is Pingu and he loves coconut as well.

We ate the Run Down which tasted absolutely amazing (- really!) and had some talks before returning back to our place. Annika and I agreed on our 5am catching the flight wake-up time, I sat for a while with the group in the bar and then I went to my bungalow, packed my backpack, relaxed and fell asleep.

Corn Island is a beautiful place with perfect beaches that one can experience while partying with young Americans, snorkeling or just reading books and hanging out. I had an absolutely amazing time, shaped mostly by the people I met and the surrounding nature. Being able to eat straight off the trees and feeling truly connected to nature by having the moon guide one’s way through a pitch-black jungle brings a certain depth to one’s reality. A love not only for the place and context, but for life in general and everything around you. Pure bliss.