Are you sure that’s a lake? Isla de Ometepe Part 1

Row row row your inadequate boat into choppy water, if you see a crocodile then don’t forget about the bull sharks too.

(Now, I’m pretty sure that’s not the children’s nursery rhyme that we all fondly remember but it’s what applies best to the boat situation on the way to Isla de Ometepe.)

Arrival

We arrived that the dock in San Jorge to get our tickets when I noticed a rare sight, a timetable. More shocking still, it applied to the boat we were supposed to be catching. Realising that the boat we needed was leaving in 2 minutes, we quickly got our tickets from the booth and, after passing a security gate, sprinted for the boat. The unstable wooden bathtub (lancha) was the smaller but cheaper option to get to the island, so being the good for nothing cheapskates that we are, we didn’t give it a second thought.

We were the last ones on so had nowhere to sit, instead we perched by the deafening engine and many dubious holes in the boat. As I have said about the buses, height can be an issue in Nicaragua when it comes to comfort, and the boats here were no different. Let’s just say my head and few wooden beams had become well acquainted by 10 minutes into the crossing.

Note: You can check the timetable online using this website to save the mad scramble we experienced.

https://www.ometepenicaragua.com/ferryboat.php

Lake Nicaragua, according to Wikipedia is the 19^th largest lake in the world by area. But, looking at the waves, I wasn’t convinced. We could’ve been drugged and taken to the North Sea for all I knew. Away from my fears that reality wasn’t actually real, Brendan was a little worried about the conditions due to some trouble with sea sickness in the past. Luckily, I think sea sickness was avoided during the choppy crossing by staring up at the towering volcanoes rising from the murky water of Lake Nicaragua. Thanks to this, my hunch that we might in fact be in Grimsby and any memories of the murky English sea quickly diminished. Concepcion, the largest of the two volcanoes, rises nearly 1600m from the lake to its summit, it was shrouded in cloud but that couldn’t take away the awe that we felt looking up at it.

After a crossing of around an hour and a half, our boat finally landed in Moyogalpa, the main link to the rest of the island. It was a small town with a few restaurants and shops and it acted as our place to rest before heading to the Maderas side of the island the following day.

Moyogalpa

We stayed at the Landing hostel in Moyogalpa which was perfect as it couldn’t have been much closer to the dock and it had a great roof terrace which was equipped with two of the largest hammocks we’d ever seen. So, for much of the day that remained, we lay there chatting and utilising the decent internet until the need for food struck.

We headed out and immediately encountered a taxi driver that had offered us a ride when we arrived earlier on. Not wasting too many pleasantries he asked us if we had heard about the bull riding. Our almost lackadaisical attempt at conversation thus far immediately changed to severe focus and intrigue. The man soon gave us directions and, not being ones to spurn an opportunity, we set off around the corner.

The first thing to note is that even despite hearing him say “bull riding”, we had completely forgotten/ignored every other aspect of information given to us. We hadn’t quite grasped the situation we were about to witness but the thrill of the unknown and the static building in the air was getting us excited for some action. We were totally unprepared for the utter madness about to unfold in this small town.

In a patch of unused scrubland the bullring appeared in the early evening light, surrounded by a slowly increasing number of people who milled about expectantly. The ring itself was a shoddy tangle of chicken wire that had been absentmindedly wrapped around a few wooden stakes and boards. These structural ingredients did not amount to anything that I could imagine stopping a mildly disgruntled man never mind a bull on the rampage, but it was Nicaragua so I just went with it. There was raised seating for those wishing to pay, but with Costa Rica and Panama looming on the horizon of our trip, we were in the cheap seats i.e. standing. Once we had had a look around, it was dark and the local children had already found their way into the internal structure of the ring, which wasn’t really that hard owing to the many holes. Some braver ones leaped into the ring itself.

The show took a while to get going, but once it did it was a rollercoaster ride of primal man vs beast viewing. We watched excitedly, bobbing our heads side to side to see through the chicken wire mess as each rider mounted a bull in a tight pen and then the door was lifted releasing the bull and the rider into the ring. The riders ranged in age (mainly young men) but the youngest looked about 14. Not many of the riders lasted long on the bulls as the animals bucked and spun wildly but that was only half the entertainment. The most entertaining thing was getting control of the bull afterwards. The children in the ring taunted the bull while others tried to wrangle it back out of the ring so that the next bull and rider could get their turn. As the bull charged at the children and teenagers they scrambled up the sides of the ring with both fear and adrenaline charged delight radiating from their faces. It all added up to be a dramatic spectacle.

After taking it all in and keeping our distance from some of the more drunken members of the audience we headed for dinner very close to the hostel. An extremely well cooked, beautifully marinated steak and a homely environment to eat in was just what I needed after the excitement of the bull riding. Then to bed ready for another part of the island and more incredible experiences of this rural part of Nicaragua.

Final thoughts

After extensive therapy, I have concluded that I was not drugged and shipped back to the North Sea. I was in fact on Lake Nicaragua. The 19th largest lake in the world. It was real and it was a bloody good time.