We had been meaning to go to the Somoto Canyon for some time and we were finally on our way. We stopped over in Estel for lunch and a cafe similar to one we would find back home ; with a server from Miami and a chocolate cake tasting like one we would have made from the box mix, we enjoyed a taste of home. Then got to the bus station with a ride from a we had met in the cafe. He said he hoped we would find our place one day. He had just moved to Esteli from California.
As we were waiting for the bus, we saw a foreigner, like us, who caught our eye and smiled at us. She was too excited to find other Galle was a volcano guide, and although she began by talking to us in English, we quickly realized she was French, and not only that, but she knew Quebec like the back of her hand and was a citizen of Canada. In the few minutes that we crossed paths we exchanged contact
information and she invited us to the Miraflor region northeast of Esteli. We thought maybe on the way back down from Somoto we would go.
In Somoto, Pascal found a family that organized tours to the Canyon, and made a deal that included the tour, breakfast and dinner for a neat price of 35 dollars per person. The father of the household, Francisco, was a genuinely kind man who seemed to take an enormous amount of care running his business. He said he had inherited his land from his father, who had been 30 years older than his mother. He lived there with his two sons, about 18 years old, and his wife, who was about my age (yes they start families much earlier!).
I got down to washing some clothes when we got there, using their washing table. I was given a short lesson on how to wash by hand from Franciscos wife, and she seemed like she wanted to do it for me almost. The bees over, but she reassured me they were only looking to drink, and wouldnt bite.
grilled chicken, cabbage salad, and sweet fruit juice). We had a nice chat with a Chinese American traveler who had just crossed the Honduran border. He said he traveled much of the year, but lived in Florida. He said he liked it there, because he could cook his favorite food and go to the gym. However he didnt like his nosey neighbors. He said he wanted to have his son experience the world outside the US, and so he to Nicaragua.
The next day we woke up to the roosters early in the morning and got ready for our hike through the canyon. Our guide seemed to be in his early twenties and quite fit. He spoke English too, however Pascal insisted on speaking Spanish with him.
We saw that the Canyon was a national monument of Nicaragua. Our guide explained, as we were walking along the transamerica highway to get there, that that road was the only paved road in Nicaragua, and that the others were made out of paving stones, made out of concrete and hexagonal. He told us there was an arrangement between the government and the stone laying contractors to encourage
ALso we saw people picking up trash along the side of road as we went along and he said it was due to the Alcadia (the municipality). Everywhere in Nicaragua up to this point we had seen a trash, however this was the first place where I had noticed an effort to reduce anything. I suppose it was on account of the Canyon.
Unfortunately we saw some more trash as we entered the canyon, and our guide explained that that was from a weekend of partying.
The Canyon itself though was stunning, and the tour had parts where you walked over beautifully colored rocks and parts where you floated downstream between the narrow cliffs. There were several places where he showed us where to jump, and I did work up the courage to jump from several meters. Our guide jumped from the highest point of all of us, I would say 12 meters up. He said the last time he went up that high he spent 5 days in the hospital. This time it went well.
were happy to eat an amazing vegetable soup we made a special request for. That night a couple from Nice, France, arrived from the border of Honduras.
