Day 4 – Granada, Masaya, Managua

(Costa Rica day 58)

Our last morning at the Patio del Malinche, started out slower than the preceding two. We had some time before out 11 am bus to Masaya, so we decided to split up for a couple hours in the morning and meet up again at 9 am for breakfast.

I spent my time wandering around the quiet streets of Granada, taking in the colonial architecture and trying to picture what the town may have been like when those buildings were new. Granada is quite proud of it’s heritage, and there are constant restorations going on to repair damage caused by earthquakes, or to maintain the beauty that already exists. But even still the streets were fairly empty.

Breakfast, again a fruit plate for me, of course, I couldn’t get enough. Then we were checking out, saying bye to Pedro (poor thing was having asthma problems that day) and walking through the streets towards the bus to Masaya.

Actually it was a bus to Managua that could stop in Masaya as well. Actually it was a large van that doubled as a minibus, with enough space to squeeze in 12 people in seats. We had to keep out packs on our laps. If ever someone is wandering about the virtues of packing light, this is it.

Just like in Costa Rica, the buses in Nicaragua like to be full when they travel, but full takes on a whole other meaning here. These minibuses in Nicaragua come equipped with not only a driver, but what I have come to call a hollerer, someone who ushers people into the bus until it is full. We left the station when there were no more seats to fill, but would still slow down at various corners with the hollerer yelling out our destination. Maximum capacity for him seemed to entail, all the seats plus foldouts occupied, including one couple sharing a seat and 3 people standing in the space between the seats and the door. We totalled 18 at that point. I was very glad that we were getting off in Masaya.

The bus driver said he would let us off at the main market in Masaya, which turned out to mean about 9 blocks to the west. We took a city bus the rest of the way.

The artisans’ market in Masaya is the same as any outdoor market, except that it is actually in a large old wooden fort. I am not sure how the outer structure has survived this long, but it has, and it is large and nowadays filled with colourful shops teeming with wooden containers, ceramics, dolls, clothes, leather goods and various other goodies for locals and tourists alike. Even if you are not a shopper it is a worthwhile experience. You keep thinking you have reached the end and then you turn another corner.

We spent the first bit walking around just seeing what was there and getting a feel for prices. I myself, didn’t budget a lot of money for souvenirs while away, I planned to spend more on just travelling, but I did want to buy a ceramic or two for my kitchen. There were hundreds of ceramics here to choose from.

Dozens of different shapes, colours, sizes and prices of ceramics lined shelves around me. I felt overwhelmed.

Mari, on the other hand seemed to have the same problem but in a different way. She has apparently not done much souvenir shopping during her past couple of years in Costa Rica, and all that pent up shopping urge came forth here. Her love was containers made of wood. Wooden bowls, jars, spoons, you name it.

For Hiro, it seemed to be T-shirts. He got his baby niece a shirt that translates to saying ´Love knows no species´ and it had a picture of a cute little turtle on it.

I did eventually end up purchasing two ceramic vases and a wooden jar, after which point I decided to wait out the other two sitting at a refreshment stand, I have never had the stamina some people have for shopping and the exhaustion comes even more quickly when you are carrying around a large backpack.

After the market, we grabbed a cab and headed for Coyotepe, an old fortress up on the hill overlooking Masaya. I knew it was up high, but I wasn’t prepared when the cab driver pointed up a stone structure hundreds of meters above us. The card was at a forty-five degree angle the whole way up the hill.

We got to the fortress, and for a $2 entrance fee, had out run of the place. My first instinct, which I acted upon was to climb to the top of one of the lookout towers and see the view. It really wasn’t that hard to do, the rampart was quite wide, but still I had Mari worrying the whole way up.

The view was spectacular. We could see Lago Masaga, and in the distance the Lake in Managua. We could see mountains and volcanoes and the whole city. And everyone looked so small in comparison.

Between Hiro and I, we convinced Mari to climb up, and she wasn’t disappointed when she got there.

After a while we got down and started running around the rest of the place exploring. There were small lookout windows in each mini tower, three for each view, positioned to look like two eyes and a nose. And there were tunnels leading down into the bowels of the fortress. I also managed to convince Mari and Hiro to explore these, although I had to go first.

You know, but for all her appearance of fear it was Mari who started humming the ominous Phantom of the Opera song. It’s a song I quite enjoy, but it takes on a different feeling when you are walking around dark deserted quarters, some of which had round holes at the entrance that may have once been for bars.

It was not very large and pretty soon we found ourselves climbing back into the light. Some photography and trying to descend another stair case that turned out to be barred against me, we left reluctantly to catch our bus to Managua. I had just been thinking that the place would be a great spot for a picnic, when on our drive down the hill we passed a not-quite-so-hidden couple making out among some trees along the side of the road. Apparently, my idea wasn’t an original one.

We arrived in time to catch our mini-bus to Managua, a much less cramped trip than the one in the morning since we paid for an extra seat for all of our bags. By the time we were pulling into Managua, we were all too tired and hungry to pay much attention to our surroundings, and just wanted to arrive at our hotel, shower and go grab something to eat.

We were met by slight confusion when we asked the reception at the hotel for suggestions of restaurants nearby, apparently few f the employees lived in the are and were only familiar with a few places. We got directions of a place in walking distance and headed.

Perhaps I have not travelled as much as some people, but I have never seen the streets of a capital city as deserted as the streets of Managua were that night at 7:00 pm. We could not figure it out, and we quickened our pace as we became increasingly aware of the dark and lack of people, or even many cars.

We arrived at the restaurant and dinner and the rest of the night went by without anything to note. That night we all crashed early and slept the fulfilling sleep of the exhausted traveller.