Escaping Casa de PMS

I remember leaving Casa de PMS, bags packed, with Mary and Kendra, the only girls left in the house. The others were off to Playa Hermosa to surf for the day. I was supposed to go with them, but sometime the night before they changed the departure time from 11 AM to 8 AM. They informed me of this switch at 7:57 AM when I woke up after a big night with Anneke, Jimmy and the Kiwis. There was no way I could get ready for a full day of surf and aid my headache in just 3 minutes. So, I watched them leave, then took a long, cold shower to combat the humidity and the hangover.

Kendra relaxing while the other girls are away

Mary, Kendra and I walk to the earthy coffee shop down the street, Gato Negro. These girls were classy and I really enjoyed hanging out with them and getting to know them apart from the rest of the Casa drama. They were the only two I'd said goodbye to before leaving San Juan del Sur. They still had another day of rental left in the Casa, but I'd had enough.

I met up with Anneke at a smoothie shop in town, along with her friend Olivia from GREAT Britain (and she insisted on emphasizing the Great, which I love!)
Olivia is a character; she is a mix of ADD, creativity, adventure, free-spirit, and elegance. I was really looking forward to this trip already.

We went to the main grocery store in town to catch the chicken bus from San Juan del Sur to Rivas to make our way to Ometepe. If you've traveled in Central America and you aren't familiar with chicken buses, then you did it wrong.
I've never really wondered what happens to decommissioned US school buses, but now I know; they're sent south to be used as public transportation in Central America, aka the chicken buses. This was my first authentic Nicaraguan experience and I was both thrilled and terrified. I'd heard too many horror stories about backpackers on chicken buses, having their belongings stolen, being held up at gun point, and bags falling off the bus, never to be seen again. But Anneke and Olivia were pros and they showed me the ropes.

Classic Nicaraguan chicken bus -- bags on top, everyone and everything else inside

While we waited for the bus we dined on Nicaraguan street cuisine -- yucca mash, shredded pork, and cabbage salad wrapped in palms leaves. And, of course, this delicious concoction was eaten with our bare hands. Like I said, authentic Nicaraguan experience.
After the chicken bus to Rivas we took a taxi to the Ometepe ferry landing. Lucky us, today Lake Nicaragua had the biggest waves they'd seen all year. Once the ferry left the dock, passengers scrambled to the side rails, rain and waves in their faces and spew from their mouths. It was a rough ride out to the island but the three of us weathered the trip just fine -- slightly damp but spew free!

Olivia and the puppies at the Ometepe ferry landing

The ferry arrived at the dock in Ometepe and, since we arrived too late to catch the local bus, we hopped in another taxi to Buena Vista hostel recommended to us by Jimmy, our Aussie friend from the hostel in San Juan del Sur.
For the record, I DO NOT recommend this hostel! There were bugs everywhere, there was no air conditioning, the fan in the room was so loud we could barely sleep, the internet connection was spotty, and the "bathroom" was separated from the rest of the room by a (barely) hanging curtain.

We couldn't find a bar on the island, but the liquor store curb worked just as well that night!

But, we were out of the rain, we had a shower and a place to sleep, so for tonight, Buena Vista Hostel was home.

Salud!

Transitions

Pistol at Cardiff State Beach

I woke up today to sunny, blue skies in Cardiff, California. I look out my window and see various green scenery, a mix of ficus, eucalyptus, and palm tress.

My dog has taken up most of the bed, as usual, and my pillows have been thrown to the floor. It wasn't the best night's sleep, and this isn't the first time I've woken up this morning. This is just the way things are now.

Pistol, in her usual morning position

I lay in bed, and reach for my phone. 10:30 AM. The notification screen indicates that the rest of the world is already moving full speed ahead, with a dozen Facebook updates, messages, and reminders. My to-do list pops up and I see the long list of things I should do today. Should. But not have to do. I am single and unemployed, so aside from the occasional job interview, these days it doesn't seem like I have to do anything.

This used to be a good thing. I enjoyed not having the pressure of my 8 AM - 5 PM job. I loved waking up with no agenda, or a single item on a to-do list. Having no schedule, just a next destination, was so calming and second-nature.

So, why is it like this now?
I can think of 3 main reasons:

1.  I'm no longer in a foreign country. Everything is familiar here and finding adventures takes much more effort.
2.  I'm constantly burdened with financial stresses, not knowing how I'm going to pay my bills without a source of income. And finding a job is a job in itself, with it's own heap of stresses that inevitably go with it.
3.  I'm not surrounded by like-minded travelers, coming from all reaches of the world, with stories about where they've been and where they plan to go. I didn't have to go far to be social; I just had to go to the common area of the hostel and start a conversation with someone (and hopefully they spoke English). Socializing in North County San Diego is not easy. If I try to converse with a random person at a local coffee shop, people are usually cordial but short; wondering why this strange girl is talking to them. If I talk to a guy in a bar, I'm immediately labeled as being easy or desperate. If I talk to a girl in a bar, I get sized-up and judged on my appearance, then either ignored and laughed at, or get a short response and a turned shoulder.

Being social in San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua

I dearly miss traveling... so much that it aches sometimes to be back here in my slow, unchanging, antisocial, Southern California surf town.

But travel isn't always sunny skies and fun times. Like my first trip to Ometepe in Nicaragua, for example...