THE ONE WHERE A MONKEY LANDS ON FI

(NK) Firmly on dry land again the road took us into the central highlands of Honduras and the Cerro Azul Meambar national park (Panacam).  We were happy to be back with Trisha and camping again. To our relief the park provided a concrete floored shelter for our tent as the ground in the cloud forest was pretty wet.

Back to the jungle

Our dry oasis

The trails in this park are pristine and it was one of those great places where we were the only people there. The scenery and plant life as usual were straight out of a Hollywood blockbuster. It was a fairly tough 12 km hike up and down the slopes but when we reached the cloud at the top we were amazed by the stillness and even more excited to see Jaguar footprints.

Up in the clouds

On the hunt for big cats.

I woke early the next morning for the toilet (5am) and as I stumbled bleary-eyed back to the tent a cat silhouette stealthily glided past the building opposite our tent. The ranger confirmed it was probably a Jaguarundi, the smaller cousin of the Jaguar.

Our lust for nature satisfied we decided it was time to break for our next country, Nicaragua and set off on another mammoth drive stopping for breakfast at a small crossroads. We ordered a tamale each and sat down. There was a quiet intrigue in the room and it became clear everyone had a handgun at some point on their body. There was also a security guard outside with a shotgun.

Now, I wasn’t sure why a ramshackle hut at a crossroads in the middle of nowhere needed a security guard. I could also see some interesting conversations and pointing going on at the bus stop over the road.

“Come on Fi, finish your tamale, I think we should go.”

“I’ve not finished my coffee yet.”

I’ll leave what I urgently whispered next but it was accompanied by a gentle kick in the shin. Honduras had been a lovely experience so far and I wanted to keep it that way. The non-tourist areas were definitely not for tourists.

The crossing into Nicaragua was fairly straightforward and we made straight for the lakeside town of Grenada. The Nicaraguans we had met so far were really friendly but Grenada had a real edge.

Walking around the town it was clear to see the look of discontentment and suffering on the face of local people, no doubt enhanced by rich tourists like us. When I say rich, I mean you have a roof over your head, a car to drive and food in your belly. The obvious juxtaposition between swathes of US tourists on the main street of restaurants and the open sewers and desperation on the nearby residential streets was thought provoking.

Like many Central American countries, Nicaragua seems to have too many guns and not enough money. We took a wrong turning down a dark street and were immediately joined by two drunk, scarred up men. Nothing happened in the end and we finished our conversation on a smile but it was clear by their questions that they were testing the water on our fear and vulnerability.

As you can perhaps tell Grenada wasn’t exactly enjoyable. Many other travellers ignore the poor saying they don’t want to encourage begging.  One table of Americans even said: “Here comes the sob story.” When a skin and bones kid approached their table.

I found this attitude pretty shameful. To dismiss suffering and poverty like that is perhaps easy to do, as most of us have never had to experience it. I’m talking real poverty, which is not the same thing as receiving housing and benefits from the government. I know this is a travel blog and it’s supposed to be fun and exciting but I think it’s important to cover everything we see and experience, including the bad. When I look back at all the times we’ve haggled and turned down guys trying to make a living in these countries I feel ashamed. We can’t help everyone but perhaps we can give more and take less from now on. Even the police who try to get bribes from us are just trying to feed a family.

It’s a hard compromise to make when you’re trying to enjoy yourself with money you’ve earned. The imbalance of wealth in the world really makes you question the right you have to that kind of money - no matter how hard you feel you may have worked for it.

Seeing those who had so much walking around oblivious to those who had so little was a wake up call. I don’t think things should carry on like this and it’s worth reading up on the author Noam Chomsky if you get chance. He can help to explain why some countries are so rich and some are so poor much better than I can. It’s definitely not because people are lazy and/or stupid so if you have that opinion then please do some research and reconsider.

Thought for the day over, we continued southbound to the surf town of San Juan Del Sur. After a quick look around we drove onwards to Playa Madera and camped at a local co-operative called the Café Revolucion. It was windier than Spinningfields so putting the tent up was a trial and the local dogs kept running off with our poles.

Naughty dogs!

We finally got it up and Fi was half in half out getting the bedding laid out while I played with dogs. I then heard a crash and an almighty scream.

I rushed over to the tent to see a broken branch, a confused looking howler Monkey and a shocked Fiona.

“That Monkey just fell on me!” She shrieked.

The Monkey had nothing to say in its defense. Instead it sneered, dismissively waved its hand and scrambled up the nearest tree.

After all that shock Fi decided to opt out of surfing. With some help from the locals I finally started to stand and catch waves. I even have photo evidence.

Riding the wave

All the way to the beach

Another thing that helped was the massive stingrays on the bottom. A cold current had brought thousands of them into the bay and they were huge. My board seemed like the safest place to be and with that motivation I managed to stay stuck to it. (FK  - urm yeah, that was the real reason I decided not to surf Kirwan, not the monkey incident!)

(FK) I still hadn’t recovered from my surfing experience in Brazil, near drowning and losing my bikini bottoms, granted the waves weren’t comparable here, but I wasn’t about to risk it with a possible ‘Steve Irwin’ either.

I love to see rays when I’m diving so was fascinated that so many had turned up. A guy had told us that the local fishermen were out catching them to sell to make ceviche and soup dishes – both local specialties. I had mixed feelings about this that were only compounded when I saw a huge ray being dragged up onto the beach and left to suffocate. I’m a meat and fish eater and will continue to be so, but this sight of a living creature dying in a slow and probably painful death left me sobbing and still makes my eyes sting when I think about it.

I was having a crisis of conscience. My head was saying, Nicaragua is a poor country and its people need to make a living. The rays were plentiful and were being fished in relative low numbers from what I could see and a fisherman said that they came back in large numbers every year. It’s also a little hypocritical when someone from a developed country where fish populations have been decimated then tells someone in the third world not to fish on their front door.

Not a pretty sight

My heart though was singing a different tune, if a sentient creature is going to give its life to feed us then it should die as quickly and as painlessly as possible being shown the respect and care it deserves. I felt these fish were not being treated that way. It is a reality of life though; in the west we are rarely faced with death in this way. The food we consume is all nicely packaged and prepared, a far cry from its living form. Now I’m not about to turn into a preaching vegan or owt, but it was a slap round the face to remind me to appreciate the food that I eat and to make the right choices about its provenance. A hard but important lesson for me.

We decided before we left to sell ‘the Palace’ our eight-man tent that we haven’t used since Mexico to the owner of Café Revolucion, Abe. Hopefully it can be a great home for him while he builds his house and continues to grow his co-operative business.

Abe, after the deal of the century

Nicaragua perhaps wasn’t the most fun of all the countries we visited; maybe we didn’t see the best of it. It did, however, reinforce our perspective on how the world works - who prospers, who suffers and who doesn’t care as long as they’re comfortable (that’d be us). There are no easy answers to the mess that has been made and continues to be made. As we grow more interdependent as a globe and more connected through technology we will be forced to face some harsh truths and find a new direction. Or maybe we'll just continue sleep walking.