This Lagoon was formed 23,000 years ago after an explosion on one on Mombacho’s bad hair days.
It is fed by a number of surface and underground water sources and is one of the first Nature Preserves created in Nicaragua to preserve the country’s natural landscape.
In tourist season there are kayaks in the water, swimmers, picnic’s and family outings, hiking, diving and other recreation. The Preserve has public areas that give access to the water for free or private businesses that let you use their facilities for six to seven dollars U.S. a day. A round trip shuttle to the Lagoon is $15.00 from Granada, if you go with a group tour, and you can spend most of the day at the Park working on your tan..
This morning locals are washing clothes,bathing, swimming, wetting a hook, and kayaking . The water is unusually clear and the bottom of the lagoon is covered with scattered lava rocks, small and large, reflections of clouds floating on the water’s surface.
In the old days, Hollywood came out with a movie called ” Creature from the Black Lagoon. ”
Believing in things we can’t see is difficult, but it doesn’t mean they don’t exist.
One good thing about being human is most really bad stuff we aren’t going to live long enough to see.
When Mombacho throws a big fit, again, it will shake out this entire country.
I look for the little white sandwich sign in front of the Merced church that tells me it is open.
When I see that sign, I pay thirty Cordova’s to climb a narrow circular staircase to the highest points in the Tower and snap photos of Granada from the church’s upper windows.
The stairs are steep but there are wrought iron bars to hold to as I wind my way up.This morning there is only one person in the Tower, besides me. When he comes down I find a nook, still on my way up, and let him barrel past..
At the top of the spire the city opens up as far as I can see and below me are red tiled roofs, spires of other churches, grids of streets leading to and from the District of the Tourists. As you move away from the Historical District, Granada becomes a different city. In the Tourist districts, you find an emphasis on food, entertainment, places to sight see, museums, education, history. Outside the Tourist District, the residents are all about commerce and community.
This morning church bells are quiet and Esmerelda is asleep in her small room, her hunchback gone to the local market to pick her a bouquet of flowers.
At the bottom of this staircase, mounted on a wall, is a sign that says ” Do Not Ring the Bell. ”
There is a room of torture buried deep in this complex, because, as most of us know, bells are always rung, at least once, by those who can’t read and don’t follow directions.
A sign, without consequences, is not worth the paper it is printed on.
The only thing missing is the black cat this coffeehouse is named for.
I look in a wicker chair by the front door for a curled feline with its tail wrapped around its contracted paws. I look on top of the nearest bookshelf where wind funnels through an open window. I look under one of the big slouchy chairs in front of a huge mosaic top coffee table.
This bookstore/coffeehouse is family friendly, well attended, and has friendly employees.
There are families already here this morning with kids, backpackers, retired ex-pats wearing shorts and sandals, locals checking e mails on free wifi.
There is money to be made feeding the soul and no one in old Route 66 diners would have ever thought the five cent cup of coffee would morph into the multi billion dollar corporation of Starbucks.
Expanding coffee and cats into the Universe is man’s next step.
We followed monkeys into space and there are no good reasons cat’s and coffee shops can’t go next.
Having black cats around always makes my coffee taste better.
The best surf is not in San Juan Del Sur.
To reach any one of the best surfing spots north and south of SJDS you have to take a shuttle.
For modest dollars, you load into trucks, jeeps, vans, and are driven through back country, down winding dirt paths in four wheel drive, and eventually stop at a beach with only a few conveniences.
The surf in Nicaragua has a good reputation and, on this week, the waves are anywhere from two to five feet. Not being a surfer, the waves don’t seem like much, but for Central America, on the Pacific coast, they aren’t bad, according to insiders riding in the back of this open truck with their surfboards close at hand.
Much of Nicaragua is undeveloped countryside and many citizens live at the end of dirt roads or no roads, pulling water from rivers or wells, transporting with horse drawn carts, watching television courtesy of electricity brought by the government. There is an encroachment on the land by housing developments geared to Norte Americanos and Europeans and signs on barbed wire fences sell fincas that have been in someone’s family for generations.
Surfers roam the world looking for good waves, and, today, they are talking excitedly while we bounce on the wooden benches in the back bed of the old military truck that used to transport revolutionaries..
Riding the waves will be an all day affair.
It is probable that some Spanish conquistador planted a flag on this beach, had a prayer said by the priest on the expedition, and had to pull a sword and fight locals who didn’t like the intrusion.
San Juan Del Sur is a most popular place, a party town, a hot spot on International bulletin boards, a place to see and be seen. There have been plenty of footsteps on these streets before Scotttreks got here, and last night’s waves washed footprints away to start the next day with a clean slate.
Two images come to mind when walking the town. The first is what happens when you stand on the beach and waves come around your feet and erode the sand you are standing on. The second is the conglomeration of good and bad on the beach in the morning as you beach comb and find beautiful shells among the plastic containers.
The whole town gives a feeling of looseness, of pieces barely kept together, of ankle bracelets and incense, of pagan God’s and too much alcohol, drugs, and bottled water.
If I’m going to fit in here I need to loosen my belt a notch.
Like most countries in Central and South America, Nicaragua’s independence was won from Spain. In some countries Spain held the field till the bitter end and there were fierce battles. In other countries, like Costa Rica, their power and control was more gently transferred.
On the net, BBC lays out a timeline of Nicaragua’s history, a country that has been meddled with by Spain, Britain, and the United States from its inception.
There has been a succession of dictators and strong men here,but,at the moment, revolutionary Daniel Ortega, American President Ronald Reagan’s nemesis, remains in power, duly elected, true to his Marxist theology.
This birthday finds Nicaragua moving forward,but escaping your reputation is daunting.
The people in this celebration audience are attentive and polite as political speeches come rolling out of political mouths.
There are probably some in the crowd that wish Nicaragua still belonged to Spain, but they don’t have the microphone.
Consensus is nearly impossible to achieve, these days, on just about any issue.
Leaders wish us to obey, but what they really do, their entire elected term, is try to herd us cats where we don’t want to go.
Mombacho Volcano is only two thousand feet above sea level but it has a commanding presence.
From the Vista Mombacho Apartments, as well as most places in Granada, you can see its summit with its halo of clouds, a reminder that we live on an active planet spinning through an unimaginably large solar system in an unmeasurable universe.
As you climb Mombacho, it gets cooler, and once you start hiking you lose sight of the sun, moving up and down narrow paths cut through the jungle. You step on stones and steps made from tree trunks. The canopy is over head and you wouldn’t want to get off the path because there are canyons and drop offs.
Water drips from leaves, ferns and trails are slick.
Jose directs our attention to a bromelia that thrives in this rain forest.
He explains what monkeys really like to eat.
There are monkeys in this rain forest, as well as jaqaurs and small mammals. None have reason to interact with awkward, loud humans.
After our lesson, we continue, cool, secluded, smarter.
The animals are watching us, hidden in the undergrowth.
Nearing the end of our trail, Jose takes a side trek to show us fumeroles.
At this spot, the Earth’s breath is moist and hot. There is a steady updraft of steam in columns as if it was squeezing up between clenched teeth.
If you believe in dragon’s, you would call this dragon’s breath.
When you lean over, the steam is warm, seductive.
I hate to leave.
Dragon’s cast deep spells.
The last time Mombacho erupted was in the 1500’s.
It is a strato volcano and deposited lava in its last explosion for miles around its base. The rich volcanic soil around the volcano is a bonanza for coffee, rice, and bean plantations that cover the agricultural lands stretching below us for miles. From our observation point at the mountain’s top we can see Lake Nicaragua, the Laguna de Apoyo, the red tiled roofs of Granada and thousands of green acres of fincas.
This morning Jose, our guide, leads Ur and myself, around one of Mombacho’s craters.
Nicaragua is in the Ring of fire that is a belt of earthquake and volcanic activity where the America’s meet the Pacific Ocean . Managua has earthquakes and Ur, from South Korea, tells me that that city, where he now volunteers, is still suffering from last year’s quake.
Visiting Nicaragua without visiting a volcano is like visiting Disneyland without going on a ride.
The chances are Mombacho isn’t going to erupt any time soon, but tomorrow can always spin out of control with one turn of nature’s dial.
When this sleeping volcano wakes, the Earth will tremble.
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