A taxi came to take us to the Southernmost part of the island. The journey was maybe 45
minutes and the road got rougher and rougher the closer we got to our destination.
I'm not sure how Dan, who's land this is, would describe this place, but I'll give it my
best shot. I think he bought it quite a few years ago and has done a lot of work on it -
but it's very much a work in progress. He lives here with his son who is 5 (and sadly not
here at the moment) and his Dad Steve lives here for some of the year too. A lot of other
people come and go - some as WOOFERs or volunteers, to help work the land, others just stay
and some pay a little and undertake their own projects. Steve has a few friends here who
seem to be semi long term residents and I'm not sure exactly what their role is or how they
fit in. One of them is a woman in a wheelchair and as soon as R sees her, he says 'she
can't walk' and I say no, then he says 'why she can't walk?' and won't let it drop. So I
tell him to ask her and she says she was ill when she was a child. He asks a few more
questions and then lets it drop.
There is a central and basic hut with a big porch area and an outdoor kitchen. About 10
foot away from that is a shower and there is a compost toilet at the bottom of the garden.
There are a few wells from which the draw their water (using an electric pump). They do
have (and pay for) electricity. It's nice sitting outside and hearing the crickets right
next to you in the evening.
The hut has some fridges and a few other cooking facilities, but they are mostly for
emergencies. There are two hammocks downstairs, sometimes occupied by different people and
there's a ladder to what might be described as a mezzanine or loft. R and I sleep up there
and another guy, a Swiss man called Cuno does too. There are no barriers around the top but
R is pretty good on ladders and the way our bed is set up it would be impossible for him to
roll off the platform. They found us some cushions to sleep on and provided some sheets
which was a relief. I didn't plan to go this basic on this trip, but it seems to be the way
things have worked out and though it takes a bit of getting used to, it definitely grows on
you.
Every time we get to a new place it feels like there's a lot not right about it, but then
the longer we stay, the more it feels ok.
In terms of in-house animals, there are three dogs and a kitten here and a few chickens.
Lots of households on this island have pigs and it's really common to see pigs wandering
around which I really like. There's also quite a bit of reliance on horses for pulling
carts and other subsistence tasks - plus some tourist horse riding. Howler monkeys can be
heard in the distance and the bird and butterly life is breath-taking too.
The first day we are here, we mostly just sit around in the porch area. Eva has taken on
the task of making Dulce De Leche, which means taking milk and sugar and boiling it for six
hours, stirring it every three minutes - to produce a kind of condensed milk. The catch is
that the oven is a real fire, so there's quite a bit of work keeping it to temperature. Is
this what is meant by slow food?
Dan makes lovely brown bread - the best I've seen all trip, and there are several loaves at
the moment. They have also harvested avocadoes recently so there is a huge pot of those.
Real shame R won't eat them. They make cream cheese.
R enjoys playing with and chasing the animals around and there is a bag of toys which belong
to Dan's son which he also gets quite a bit of mileage out of. Plus LOADS of books
including some about Pirate Dinosaurs. I can tell he's not sure about our surroundings but
then nor am I, so I can't blame him for that.
At sunset, R is playing happily by himself and Eva takes me to the top of the land (the
island Ometepe, is made up of two volcanoes, so everything is on a slope, with the lake at
the bottom) where Dan is building a more permanent house to live in. It's stunning. Shaped
like a circle with two floors. The top floor has only just had boards put in but when you
climb up you can see right down the hill and across the lake to the mainland. There's
definitely a moment's peace as I sit with Eva and watch the sky change colour.
After night falls, the stars are breath-taking too and I notice a triangle constellation
which Orion's belt points to. I've never clocked it before but it makes me think of Jake
and hope beyond hope that he's happier now. And maybe it's my imagination but one of the
stars starts twinkling a bit more strongly as I have that thought.
R is shattered and so must I have been because when I lay down with him so he can fall
asleep (something I do every time we get to a new place) we both pass out very quickly.
The next morning I am trying to figure out what activities we might be able to undertake.
There is one bus a day from here, which leaves at 4.55am so that's out. We are a few kms
walk from the nearest tienda (i.e. very basic store) or restaurant. And miles from wifi.
Someone turn up with a big container of milk and we boil it (three times) so it is potable.
I am talking to Eva about the possiblity of us hiking up the volcano - it's 2km to the start
point and then 2 hours each way, so we'd have to work out if we could carry R that far
between us in a backpack. I think it's unlikely but maybe if we could find a couple of
other adults who were willing to join, it might be possible. That said, not sure R would
sit on the back pack for that long. Just then, Dan comes over and asks if I have a driver's
license. I say yes. Apparently there's a 12 year old girl who lives up the road and is
having a miscarriage. Dan has a pick up truck but it doesn't have the right papers and he
asks if I'd be prepared to drive the girl as far as we can go before the police might check
up on us. I say yes, so me, R and Eva get in the truck and pick up the girl, her parents
and her boyfriend and drive about 45 minutes.
It's a treacherous drive: really bumpy and he truck is groaning under the strain. Plus the
knob on top of the gear stick keeps coming off in my hand, which doesn't add to the ease of
driving. It's not really the type of journey for small talk so we make our way in silence
adn drop them as near to the clinic as we can. Then we turn around and drive about 15
minutes back before stopping at a town to get some supplies (eggs and bananas).
When we stop, I ask Eva for my bag, which I had given her to take in the back of the truck.
She had forgotten it was mine, and gave it to the family to take to the clinic. It has all
my money, our passports, my phone, sunscreen and water in it. We debate what to do, and in
the end, turn around and go back to the junction. The family are long gone, so we split
what money Eva has and she hitchikes to the clinic to get my bag, while R and I drive,
ironically, pretty much back to the place we were staying when we first get to the island.
I get us some water and we walk along the beach to the old hostel and I go up and ask
someone if we can use their sunscreen. She says yes, which is a relief. So I get sunscreen
on R and we go swimming in the lake in our underwear. He is as happy as a pig in the
proverbial. I'm calcuating the maximum amount of time it should take Eva to get back to us
and I make it 3.5 hours. We have $8 so we should be ok.
In the end, it only takes Eva about an hour as she was pretty successful with the hitch
hiking and she gets the bag back no problem. We treat ourselves to banana smoothies and
chips to celebrate and then start the treacherous drive home, though it doesn't feel nearly
as difficult this time.
When we get back, Dan and Steve have made a fish curry for everyone. I know R won't eat that
but thankfully Dan left a few potatoes out for R which he gladly eat (I'm hoping potatoes,
ketchup and apples/bananas is a balanced enough diet till I get him home).
Just before bed, R wants to do a poo so we get the potty out and put in outside the porch on
the path in the garden. In record time, R is shouting with delight that he's done a poo and
trying to show it to everyone. I say there's no need for that go to take the potty and put
it in the compost loo, but before I can get to it, one of the dogs comes along and eats it.
I am totally grossed out. I knew dogs liked smelling shit but I didn't know they ate it.
Earlier today I had been trying to explain to R why he shouldn't lick his hand just after
the dog has licked it. Now I think he has a clearer idea.
I am convinced that the only story R will go back to nursery with is about 'the dog ate my
poo.'
R goes to bed and passes out in record time. Eva gets her guitar out and we sing songs
which I really enjoy. Feel a bit sorry for everyone else listening though.
On our third day, I ask Dan what jobs need doing around the place and he says there's a lot
of watering. This is a perfect job to do with R because he is always desperate to get his
hands on a hosepipe and no damage can be done out here. He is delighted at the chance, but
does get bored after about 4 or 5 plants - while I'm still watering 3 hours later - and
haven't even covered a quarter of the land. I like standing in the sun thinking about how
lucky I am to be so warm, and enjoying the kick of watering cacao, coffee, avocado and
banana plants - to name just a few.
R plays really nicely by himself - playing music, playing with toys and with the animals.
At my request, Cuno makes him a bowl of porridge which we sweeten with the Dulce De Leche.
He eats it all up, pretending he's Goldilocks and I'm Baby Bear. We get eggs from the
chicken coop which he likes too.
Dan has an old child seat and he fixes it to the back of his bike, so me and R can go for a
ride, while he and Eva go kayaking to visit a friend of his. It's very hot and I spend about
2 hours trying to get R to nap as he's a little cranky and gone into 'why'overdrive. He lies
down for a few minutes but it seems there's too much of interest to him and he also has
freedom to wander round looking at all the nooks and crannies.
In the end I sleep while he potters, then we get on the bike and head out. The road is very
rocky and the bike brakes are poor. If I pull both brakes as hard as possible I get some
kind of help with stoppage,but it's not ideal so I'll have to ride really carefully.
After about 2km, we spot a beach so we go for a swim. It's a beautiful day and if we swim
about 30m out into the water we can turn around and see both the island's volcanoes clear as
day. We get a kick out of this.
I've been told it's 6km to the nearest place with facilities and I'm not sure I can make
that distance there and back on this bike and with these road conditions. Plus it's already
quite late and we can't be out after dark as we have no lights. Then I see a sign. No
literally a sign - and it's to a place called the Finca Mystica. I like the name, and even
though it says 500m up a hill, I follow it. Pushing R and our stuff up the hill on the bike
up the stony path nearly kills me. He complains it's too bumpy for a few minutes but then
falls asleep, head lurched over the saddle. Poor mite must have been exhausted.
I arrive sweating at the top, but what greets us is like a mirage. There'a a lovely seating
area with a view of the lake, hammock chairs, a menu of all kinds of delicious foods and
drinks - AND there's a couple from Philadelphia with a 4 year old girl who's desperate for a
playmate.
Two cold drinks, one beanburger (for me), one plate of chips (R), a chocolate brownie and a
few games of tag later, R and I set off for home on the bike feeling satiated.
Back at Dan's place, Dan and Eva have gone out for the night, so I do a bit of catching up
on writing (even though I can't post) and have an early night.