72
MARCH2015
•
HEMISPHERESMAGAZINE.COM
Caribbeanand thePacificbywidening
theSanJuanRiverandpassing through
LakeNicaragua.“Politics,”hesays,and
we leave it at that, choosing instead to
listen to thecallofbirds,thehumof the
motor and thewhisper of fishing nets
settlingon the lake.
DAY THREE
| I start the day with a
light breakfast (a tortilla basket with
INTOTHEBLUE
A swimmer backflips into
theBahia laRedonda
Buzzworthy
Gallopinto isn’tNicaragua’sonly famousbean
InNicaragua,you’reconsideredacoffeedrinkeruntilproven
otherwise. Steaming cupsof the local brewarepushednot
just at breakfast but also at lunch, where they serve as
chasersforheartyfavorites likethickcorntamalesandbaho,
adensesteameddishofbeef,plantain,yucca, tomatoesand
cabbage. A staple of theNicaraguandiet since theywere
introduced in themid-1800s, coffee cherries have thrived
throughout thecountry, butparticularly in thevolcanicsoil
and lush,broad-leafedforestsof itscentralmountains,which
include the district ofMatagalpa. There, the adventurous
caffeine lover canvisit FincaEsperanzaVerde, aworking
organic coffee farm andeco-tourism lodge, wherevisitors
geta first-hand lookatproductionandasmanymugsof the
smooth,mellowbrewas theycanhandle.
warm banana bread has magically
appeared on the porch) followed by a
stroll to the center of the island,where
I come across a viewing tower. I climb
a ladder to awooden crow’s nest that
looksoutover acanopyofbroad-leafed
tropical trees,theconicalbulkofVolcán
Concepción inthedistance.Icouldhap-
pilyspenda lifetimeuphere,but it’stime
toheadback toGranada,where I have
adatewith a bus that’ll takeme to the
PacificCoast.
Following an hour-and-a-half ride
through grassy plains dotted with
lazy-looking cows,my bus arrives in
San Juan del Sur
, a fishing village of
colorfulwoodenbuildings,rickety taco
stands and awhole lot of dreadlocked
surfers.As the bus squeezes itself onto
oneofthenarrowstreets,askateboarder
wearingheadphonesglidesserenely(and
dangerously) across itspath.
I’ve scheduled a horseback ride at
Rancho Chilamate
, about 20minutes
southof town,but I have some time to
kill before then.OnAvenidaMercado,
I grab a crispy fried fishburrito at
Taco
Stop
andwalk to the crescent-shaped
beach
PlayaSanJuandelSur
.
Though this is Nicaragua’s Pacific
Coast,there’saCaribbeanfeelhere.Tak-
ing a cue from locals loungingon their
porches,I liebackonthesandand letthe
afternoonpassmeby.Joggers run in the
surf.Kids play volleyball.Boats bob in
theharbor.Christof theMercy,ahilltop
statue 440 feet above sea level,watches
over thebay impassively.
Back in town, Imeet upwithRan-
choChilamateownerBlue,aSan Juan
local by way of Canada whose outfit
matches her nickname.We drive to
the ranch,where I’m quickly put on
the back of a speckled filly named
Cappuccino,who initially refuses to
leave the corral with the rest of our
group. “Attagirl,” I say, giving my
horseanencouragingpaton the rump,
