Dem Crazy Island Riddims

Sorry about the delayed posting, the title of this post seems to apply to more than just people's ideas of appropriate clothing, but to the internets as well. While I have been able to check emails over the past few days, I have not been able to access any blogspot sites, including mine own.

I've been sequestered on the ridiculously beautiful Little Corn Island for the last four days honing my reading, napping, swimming, and hammock lying skills. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Left Leon bright and early (ok, around 10) and caught a microbus to Managua. They had a spot for my pack, and I was able to get a window seat, so it was actually sort of comfortable. In Managua I took a cab to the airport for my La Costena flight to Big Corn Island. I was worried that I may have exceeded my 30 lb luggage maximum (all of my gear almost certainly weighs more than that), but even after weighing me with all of my stuff, they didn't blink and handed me my boarding pass. Flight was exclusively gringos in a double prop plane that was probably new back before the Sandinistas started stirring up trouble for the powers that be. Nonetheless, it took off without a hitch and we were headed east. Flight took a little less than an hour and a half, and we landed on Big Corn Island. Decided (everyone else got to the cabs first) to walk to the Panga dock for the boat to Little Corn. Big Corn reminded me of what I imagine Kingston or Port au Prince must look like, eg no place I wanted to be on foot with a giant backpack very long. One wrong turn later, I made it to the dock and readied to board my 3rd different mode of transportation of the day (unless you count microbuses and cabs as two different modes of transportation, in which case the Panga would be my fourth.)

The panga ride was about 25 minutes, and as soon as we got around the protected side of the island, became bone-jarringly bumpy. Thanks to the advice of a Swedish dive instructor named Karl, I sat on my life jacket the whole way. It was still pretty bumpy, but fortunately my spine absorbed most of the remaining impacts.

Got to little Corn late, but found a hotel no problem in the "village" the main congregation of hotels and restaurants on the island. Dinner was a nice curry made worse by a very smug group of Austrians who were delighted about how poorly the dollar's doing internationally. I wanted to tell them that blaming me for the actions of George Bush was like me blaming them for the actions of Hitler. Little Corn exhibits a fascinating intersection of Latin and Carribean cultures. About half the people speak english with a thick West Indian accent, while half speak spanish. Some people even speak some sort of West Indian/Spanish patois which is super confusing (although possible) to follow.

The next day I made it up to Derek's Place, a place so sublimely beautiful that to witness it firsthand will make you stare slack-jawed in awe as I did for the first hour and a half or so I was there. It's on the north side of the island, and it's a half hour walk up a muddy sweaty jungle trail. However, once you make it you are welcomed by a shady grove of palm trees right on the beach. There are probably 5 or 6 cabanas, a kichen/dining area, shared bathrooms, Derek and Ana's (his wife) house, and assorted outbuildings. The only sounds you hear are the waves, the breeze in the trees (situated where it is, Derek's Place is always breezy, cool, and mosquito free) , and the occasional cooing of various pigeon like birds in the trees. I cannot recommend this place highly enough for those of you who are looking to truly "get away from it all." It is a bit more expensive then some of the other places I've stayed, but that also means that it's off most backpacker's agendas which is great because I was really starting to burn out on them. Sorry perpetual student hippies, try getting a job!

My cabana is perhaps 25 feet from the edge of the water. It has electricity, a covered front porch and a hammock. The view from said hammock would make you weep with joy. A similar place in the states would be close to five times as much a night, if not more. It faces directly east, but my efforts to see a sunrise have been consistently thwarted by the fact that it tends to rise around 5 down here!I'll post some pictures when I get a chance (some older posts now have pictures too, but I've had some uploading issues) but check out the link in the meantime.

Heading home tomorrow, but thanks to a 12 hour overnight layover in Miami, I won't actually be back until Friday.