On Thursday, Victoria and I took a day off and decided to rent bikes and head for a beach about 12 kilometers north of town. We got our bikes from a shop located deep within a courtyard of a house in town. The helpful man with one arm who rented them to us pointed out the way to the beaches using a map painted on the wall of the bike shop. He reminded us to buy some water and fruit. Before leaving, we bought mamonchinos and bananas from the Mercado.
To get out of town, we biked down to the beach, walked our bikes across the Rio San Juan (at this point not even reaching the ocean), and hit the road. I should have suspected that there would be trouble ahead when my bike threw its chain about 10 minutes into the trip, but we pried it loose, put it back on track, and continued on.
As we headed out of town, we noticed the roads getting muddier and muddier ? apparently it had rained recently in the campo. The rutted dirt roads ? a challenge for bikers in dry weather ? become an obstacle course as we dodged rocks, mud puddles and other hazards. Our progress wasn?t helped by the lack of working gears and brakes on our bikes, and we found ourselves walking on the larger hills.
After we?d gone a few miles, the rain started. What began as a slow tropical drizzle soon became a torrential thunderstorm that filled the ditches and raised creeks over portions of the road. During the journey, we were accompanied by school kids and everyday folk traveling on bikes like they probably do everyday. Our ?adventure? was their commute.
At one point as we trudged up a dirt road on a steep hill in the Nicaraguan countryside, Victoria observed that the torrent of muddy water rushing toward us looked like chocolate milk. Shortly thereafter we found ourselves belting out ?On the big rock candy mountain? into the pouring rain. (Well, ok, I was doing most of the singing ? but I?m sure Victoria would have joined in if she had known the words.)
After a few false starts and backtracks we made it to Playa Madera. This wasn?t the beach we originally set out for, but after the amount of time we?d spent in the mud, we weren?t inclined to be picky!
Madera is known locally as a surfer beach. There?s a tiny blue-painted ?bed and breakfast,? which consists of a bunch of tiny cubbies and hammocks, a changing area cobbled together out of palm thatch and sheet metal, and massive waves breaking over stunning rock formations. You can ?comprar una cerveza? at the bar attached to the surfer shack and then just kick back and watch the waves.
We plopped down on a rock and broke out our slightly drenched but utterly satisfying lunch: peanut butter and raisin sandwiches on white Bimbo (think Wonder Bread), lychees, mushy bananas and strange Nica ?churro? snack chips. We then stashed our things behind a piece of driftwood and hopped in the ocean for a swim.
The ocean at Madera is far different from the sheltered playa in town. Here the waves roll in with great force, and strong currents toss you around. People come here to feel the power of the ocean, not to drift lazily in the surf. We played in the water for a bit (despite the continuing rain) and then saddled up for the return trip.
As we rode back toward town, we rapidly became coated with thick Nicaraguan mud. To our utter amazement, however, just about all of the Nicas we passed going the other way on bicycles were perfectly clean ? balancing above the mud in their typically spotless clothes. We have no idea of their secret, but there?s a lesson to be learned there!
When we reached the Rio San Juan, we stopped to take ?after? pictures.
Victoria and I are both now staying in homes in town. Our situations vary, but in both cases the inconsistent availability of water has made showering difficult. I ended up splashing water over myself to get the worst of the mud off and then sneaking back into Jane?s hotel for a true shower. Not sure I?ve ever been so grateful for running water!
We capped off our day by watching an overcast sunset while sipping Tonas on a patio near the beach. Overall, an exhausting and exhilarating day.