Northern Nicaragua: Esteli and Somoto

After Leon, we were northbound toward the mountain city of Esteli in Nicaragua's tobacco region. We waited in the bus station until our microbus was filled to capacity before leaving. The further north we went, the more rural the country became. Cows, horses, and dogs strolled about on the Pan-American highway, taking their time as they made space for our honking van. The flat, yellow landscape of West-Central Nicaragua steady became more jagged and green. The blistering sun of Leon and Granada lost its force to the crisp mountain air.

We got dumped off in a bus station off the Pan-American in Esteli. We chowed down in a little comedor in the parking lot, got some friendly advice from our server, and debated our options for the next couple days. Neither Julio nor I were much in the traveling mood. We both felt ready to go home. We hopped in a taxi and went to the suggested hotelito. It was a tiny, run-down house in the middle of a sketchy looking street. The taxista suggested we go somewhere else. We agreed. He showed us a couple more, but we just told him to drop us off at the central park. He charged us double for his surprise hotel tour.

We wandered the city for a bit, and I got a good vibe. It seemed laid back, friendly, and did not have its Nicaraguan-ness corrupted by tourists yet. We ate some dinner, drank a little coffee, and chilled out reminiscing about La Prusia.

Monday morning we decided to skip the Reserva Miraflores and take a tour of the Segovia cigar factory. We saw how they made the cedar, flavor-preserving boxes, how they dried the leaves and selected the best ones. We watched them get rolled and immediately after we got to try out a couple flavors.


Dizzy from the strong cigars, we hopped back in our cab, got to our hotel, grabbed our bags, and hit the road for Somoto. With our obnoxious backpacks, we squeezed in the bus, James hanging out the door. The ride went smoothly until we were bumrushed by thirty middle-schoolers who filled in whatever spaced remained on our bus.

We pulled into the dirt bus station lot and tried to locate ourselves in our not-so-trusty Lonely Planet guide. Just two blocks away, we spotted a little hotel on the road. The owner showed us his triple - a closet with three rock-hard beds. We took it for $3.50, agreeing that it'd be an experience.

We hurried out of there, shoveling down a quick lunch and running to catch a bus to Somoto Canyon. The bus wasn't leaving for some time, so we got a cab instead. We walked down the rock path in our bathing suits, crossing the river once, walking down more rocky paths, and then hopping stones across the river once again. We met our guides hanging out under a tree. We only had enough money for the shorter tour, but it turned out to be enough. We hopped in a row boat and were paddle upstream as the rock walls leaned closer together and reached higher for the sky. The canyon sides were at places square and cubic, and at others smooth and round. We got out of our rowboat and opted to swim upstream without any tubes. It was gorgeous and empty. We all stared upward in awe as we struggled to doggy-paddle up stream. Our guide took us to a 10m jumping point. We climbed up the rocks and one by one, took the plunge. It was my first time jumping off a cliff of any sort. It was exhilirating, but make sure you keep your hands pinned to your side. Mine were flailed out, and insides of my arms felt the pain.


We got back into town and our spirits were suddenly much higher after a great day. We chilled out on the internet for a bit, called our couchsurfing host to confirm our plans, and marveled at the Nicaraguan sunset.



That night, we went to bed early in anticipation of a long travel morning. My travel high suddenly took a plunge as my stomach twisted and I knew that I was about to shit myself. I ran to the tiny bathroom down the hall and my colon opened like a fire hydrant. I fell back asleep, thinking/hoping the worst was past, but I woke up every hour to a similar episode. It was easily the longest night of my life. But eventually my body got rid of whatever it did not want inside and the sun came up. It was Tuesday and we were Honduras-bound.