I caught a chicken bus from Leon to Managua with the intention of grabbing a cab to another bus station across the city to travel on to Granada. Most cities in Latin America have many bus stations catering for the plethora of bus companies serving various destinations. It can be a pain especially when you're loaded up. But as I was alighting my chicken bus a rather large gentleman bellowed into my ear "Granada?" Within a thrice after being bundled into a minibus shuttle with my backpack and rucksack taking up the last available seat I was heading for Granada. The reason I didn't spend time in the capital was that apparently there is nothing of aesthetic value to attract a stop-over. After the devastating earthquake of 1972 there has been very little restoration. This was on top of the carnage caused by another huge earthquake in the thirties. It seems there's another due any minute, you do the maths. Seriously though the reason the old city is inundated with gutted buildings and rubble is that it's regarded as pointless to rebuilt to its former glory because the chances of further earthquakes are so great. Another reason to hightail it out of town.
I was also really looking forward to Granada. Lonely Planet waxes lyrical about "The Goose that laid Nicaragua's tourism's golden egg" and "the high point of many travellers' trip to Central America" also being a "trip maker" in its own right. It didn't do it for me. I can understand the eulogising as the place is pristine because the colonial buildings seem brand new and they must give them a lick of paint every other week. It wasn't just me as somebody else described the place as a large wedding cake. The place has perfect symmetry. As in medieval European cities colonial communities have their splendour caught up with history. I've visited so many interesting places that have be described with the well coined phrase "fading colonial grandeur" but with Granada the buildings are relatively young and they're not allowing them to fade. I blame William Walker. Two names seem to dominate the history of certain countries in Central America, Captain Henry Morgan (who is said to originate from Llanrumney) and Mr. Walker. What amazing characters they were and what devastation they caused. I won't go off on a tangent about them, it would take too long and wouldn't scratch the surface. Just look them up and be amazed. Anyway the adventurer and filibuster (plus doctor and lawyer) William Walker was hired by the great and the good of Leon to attack Granada. Not one for half measures our William burned the place to the ground in 1856. Hence the lack of faded colonial charm. Granada is also on the massive Lake Nicaragua but despite this I experience the most oppressive and debilitating heat and humidity ever. I spent four days shuffling and flopping. I lay on my bed with a fan in my face as the sweat bubbled out of every pore. Even my legs were streaming with sweat. Coincidentally I received an e.mail from Donna while I was there who had just caught up with my blog. She has taught in many weird and wonderful places including Colombia, Vietnam, and Mexico. She also taught in Granada where she said it was the hottest place she's ever experienced. I doubt if it is above 30c but it has that x-factor that drains every ounce of energy.
There was one main highlight though and that was bumping into Robert again. I first met Robert in Lazybones in Leon, and our paths crossed a few times after that. Each time he was either dozing in a hammock sleeping it off, slouched on a sofa with a beer, or with his feet upon a table holding court outside a bar. I've yet to see him walk. There's a chance he'll be in Panama City the same time as me. If we meet again I will walk into a bar and he will be slouched in corner chatting with whoever: I just know the roles won't be reversed. I saw George Melly live on several occasions and he would be brought on stage on a chaise-long, a cocktail in one hand and a cigarette holder in the other: I sort of imagine Robert wheeled to a bar in similar fashion. He's forty and has been travelling South and Central America for three years. We had a few beers one afternoon in Lazybones and apart from seeming a bit of a louche he was definitely a bit of a lech as he would stop mid-syllable and over my shoulder give the new female backpacker arrivals the once over. He is slim and gaunt and he reminded me of what Peter O'Toole may have been like at forty. He was great company and often I found myself involved in a battle of wits as serious subjects were broached and he was interested in pushing the boundaries of arguments and debates we found ourselves in. He also had a great sense of humour was extremely bright and informed.
In Granada I was wandering up the street heading for a restaurant when I heard a shout. Robert sat at a roadside table feet up with a cocktail in hand and very stunning female companion. She was an American named Anne and apart from being gorgeous was extremely bright. The first thing she did was translate my T-shirt. They were drinking black rum on the rocks from a bottle they had just bought. I stuck with beer as I was leaving for San Jose at 5.00am the following morning. Again I enjoyed the funny and provocative banter while the pair of them got slowly rat-arsed. He's also a footie fan and got quite excited about the 1978 World Cup which we discussed and argued about at length. As a ten year old It was his first "conscious" tournament grabbing his imagination and leaving such a lasting impression that the highlight of his trip so far, covering three years, was going to the River Plate stadium the scene of the 1978 final where Mario Kempes got Argentina's extra-time winners against perennial runners-up, Holland. This extra info also added lustre to my experience of watching River Plate there two and a half years ago. Remember the flag?
Most of the travellers I've spoken too share my opinion of Costa Rica which is the place you have travel through to get to Panama or Nicaragua. The irony of course is that it has the most developed tourist industry in CA. Hence it's full of tourists and has a touch of Miami or Jamaica about it. So vulgar! I stayed in its capital San Jose for three days and planned to go to a volcano. This one I didn't have to climb as the bus takes you to a visitors centre and a path even I could manage which takes you to a place that overlooks the crater. Apparently it's spectacular. Unfortunately it hardly stopped pissing down all the time I was in San Jose, so my plans were washed out. I fully expected San Jose to be quite modern and trendy compared to the other capitals but it was quite a drab place with little to recommend it.
I'm now back in Panama City staying in the Casco Viejo area until my flight on Friday. Again my plan for what seemed an attractive excursion has been stymied. There's a "luxury" train journey which is glass topped and follows the Panama Canal from the Pacific to the Caribbean through dense jungle crossing the canal several times. The end of the line being on the Caribbean side of the country would've been a nice touch as I've more or less hugged the Pacific for the past six weeks. The fly in the ointment was that the destination was Colon. This place is aptly named as it's the closest you'll get to a shit hole. Here are some of Lonely Planet's descriptions of Colon. "Simply put, Panama's most notorious city is a sprawling slum with desperate human existence." It goes on "Colon is a dangerous slum" and "crime is a serious problem even during daylight" Now I thought of diving into a taxi and heading for a place of interest such as a botanical garden or museum. Lonely Planet always has a "Places of interest" for each place it describes, except for Colon. There aren't any. The train arrives in Colon at 9.00am and leaves at 5.30pm, what one is supposed to do in the meantime they offer no suggestions. I had visions of being curled up in a ball in the corner of the platform hoping nobody would notice me for eight hours.
Like last year I am limping home. If you remember last year I convinced myself that I was a victim of a snake bite in Burma. It turned out that it was a reaction of the heat with my varicose veins which was a bit of a let down. I was willing to lose my leg from the knee down just for the exotic kudos. I don't think that my Achilles heel is any worse or better but I have a calf pull or strain in my left leg. I don't think it's due to climbing volcanoes rather trying to negotiate steep pavements. You need crampons to scale some.
Oh well back to school on Monday.