The last 2 1/2 weeks have been, for lack of a better description, mental. This was the only organised-tour part of my trip, which I was dubious about by the time the trip was starting. It turned out to be the kind of trip that just doesn’t stop for time to think so I’m probably not fully done processing everything I did, as I now sit in Panama City Airport writing this up (because I’m refusing to spend any of my US dollars on overpriced coffee), waiting for my connecting flight to Colombia. This post will be listing a bunch of places and a bunch of activities with some poor attempts at linking them with sentences other than ‘and then we took a bus’ so consider yourself warned that it will probably make little sense, not even to me.

I met the tour group at the end of my second week in Antigua and the next day we headed to the border and spent our first few nights in Honduras in Copán. We saw the ruins (the last Mayan ruins on my path through Central America, I’m not sure how I’m going to handle not being in Mayan heartland anymore), spent an evening at the local hot springs and had a tyre on our pick-up truck blow up on the gravel road 20min into the 1-hour drive back to town. If you could have seen the spare tyre, you would understand why I had little faith in that one not blowing up too. But in Central America, some things don’t have to meet basic standards of functionality to work successfully. I love this place. So we made it back without further incidents.

Next stop after Copán was Roatán, one of the bay islands. Cue tourist central. It was a long travel day by bus to get there (11 hours) but oh so worth the distance. I think I’d have felt a bit more at home on Utila (it’s cheaper with more backpackers) but Roatán was most certainly a fab island (despite the nearly-London prices). I got sunburnt (apparently, just because your stomach is never on show, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t need sunscreen), snorkelled, free dived with turtles, went on a sunset booze cruise (I was still in my 20s then so that’s allowed), ate ceviche, drank margaritas and jalapeño mojitos (I’m making these when I get back! Just give me a few weeks after I arrive so I have time to infuse some vodka) and generally just was happy to be by the sea for the first time on my trip.

After 3 days of island living, it was onwards to León, Nicaragua on another long travel day. There, August 3rd happened, but as we all need to remember, I did not turn 30. I turned 18 with 12 years extra life experience. Or 25, as I’m hereon in lying to everyone that I am. Thankfully, I can apparently get away with that. Thank you, parents, for those genes. The day started about halfway between the Honduras/Nicaragua border and León, with birthday song on the bus. The next morning, we went sandboarding down Cerro Negro where I proved it’s a miracle I ever passed my driving test because I was totally steering in the wrong direction till about halfway down the 600m hill, which at a speed of about 65km/h, sitting on a plank of wood, wearing a green and yellow boiler suit 8 sizes too big, could have ended badly. Thankfully, aside from gravel-induced scratches all up both my calves, it didn’t. After a much-needed shower back at the hotel, we went for lunch – vegetable quesadillas, Toña and a shot of Jose Cuervo tequila made for an appropriate meal considering the day’s main event. Late afternoon, we set off on the 3 hour bus ride to Granada where we checked into our air-conditioned hotel (this luxury became of much discussion) and despite some inter-group illness and tiredness everyone came out to dinner at El Tercer Ojo which was really lovely. Facebook proved quite the useful communication tool as those mates I said goodbye to in Antigua about 3 weeks before happened to be in Nicaragua at that point and had been staying in Granada for a few days when we arrived. They don’t read this but I promised to give them a shout out for the effort they made to find the restaurant! That evening, I learned that, with age, mixing drinks is no longer a problem because all sensible advice would say that margaritas, mojitos, tequila shots, sangria and beer (roughly in that order) is not a good combination but I had a great time! Despite bringing my camera out, I have no pictures of that night so it’s almost like my birthday didn’t happen at all so I reckon technically I’m still legitimately in my 20s.

The next day, I took the chance to have an activity-free day in Granada which ended up including a cigar factory, flor de caña and a very random visit to a local bar on the lake. It was late and drunken but, as usual in Central America, awesome fun.

Next, it was off to Ometepe on Lago de Nicaragua. On a chicken bus. I would normally love that but it was boiling hot and the previous night had left me a little dehydrated (to put it mildly) so that ride is not going down as one of my favourites. On Ometepe, we were in homestays which was a nice change from the hotels that are slightly too fancy for my backpacker mindset. Again we had just one full day on the island which most of us spent climbing Volcán Concepción – a hardcore motherf***er of an active volcano (please excuse my language, there is just no other way to convey in words or pictures how that volcano was). It’s 1610m tall and the trek starts at 120m so it’s a large elevation and it’s steep. Like, I can’t even explain how steep. We were told it would take about 5 hours to get to the top but we did it in 4h20min, which I think had more to do with the guides overestimating the time it would take than any particular skills on our part. The first 2 1/2 hours were tough but ok but the rest was crazy hard. It wasn’t my legs that got me to the top of that thing, or my walking boots, it was 2 hours of pure willpower. I am way too unfit to be doing these types of things. I might take up sport when I get home, just so I’m better prepared for any future volcano climbs. It was cloudy at the top, which we were expecting, and we could only stay on the rim for about 10min as the sulphur gases can be dangerous with prolonged exposure but it was awesome to know we had made it to the top. The climb down was insane. It took so much concentration not to slip. I need to work on my descent technique though. In an attempt to save my left knee from further pain (I could feel it starting to hurt as we started the descent), I put all my weight on my right leg until we made it down to the non-rocky part at 1000m. And then from there, both my knees were hurting. Based on previous experience, I prepared myself for 2 weeks recovery time but concluded that as long as they are back to normal by the time I reach Cusco, all will be fine and I’ll be ready to repeat the same injury all over again.

The next morning, we had a lovely breakfast with our host family and then set off to catch the 9am ferry back to San Jorge where we got on a minivan that took us to the Costa Rica border. Safely across, at the hottest part of the day (damn that 22.5kg backpack, it’s taking way too much effort not to resent that I have to carry so much extra crap), we minivan’ed it through the beautiful green hilly landscape of northern Costa Rica, accompanied by a bus soundtrack of 90s club classics, to Monteverde where we were met by a 15 degree drop in temperature in the cloud forest. It was glorious! For about 30min, at which point I decided that 20 degrees is just too cold. The rain came the next day and it was torrential. I was not impressed. I was also not impressed by the rise in prices. Costa Rica is expensive, that’s an indisputable fact, so I lived off cheese sandwiches and granola bars for the majority of our 5 days in the country. And gallo pinto. I might develop a serious vitamin deficiency soon. In Monteverde, we went zip-lining, and again I wondered how on earth I ever managed to get my hands on a driver’s licence because I could not get the hang of braking. Which resulted in a full-on crash into one of the platforms. The instructor was not impressed. And now my right arm has a pretty permanent-looking bruise to accompany the other scars and scratches I’ve picked up along the way. I’m getting away with looking this rubbish out here but I’m not sure London will let me when I get back. There was good wi-fi in Monteverde so I also tried to backup my photos on google drive but there are just not enough hours in the day. And then we had a wine and cheese night. Red wine has never tasted better than at the end of a day where you flew 1km head-first across the cloud forest canopy attached to a 2cm diameter cable. It was well worth the extra $5 we each paid to do that.

Next Costa Rican stop trying to bankrupt us was La Fortuna. I had budgeted Honduras perfectly, and Nicaragua too if only I had paid for all my own drinks on my birthday (several people need to hit me up when they also turn 25 so I can repay the favour – I trust they know who they are) so the challenge was on to achieve the same in Costa Rica. In La Fortuna I pushed my luck by deciding to go canyoning. That was expensive. But worth it! Rapelling down waterfalls is a pretty fun way to start the day. Afterwards, I asked to be dropped off at the local swimming hole (El Salto) while the others headed off to other activities so I had 4 awesome hours jumping into Rio Fortuna off rocks and a rope swing (at first view of questionable standard but it was stronger than it looked) with the locals. That was probably one of my favourite places on the whole trip.

The final stop on our whirlwind trip was San Jose which wasn’t so much of a destination, more of a convenient transit point at which to finish a trip to allow a multitude of onward travel plans. Although, walking around town for a few hours this morning with the last remaining people from the group, there was definitely a grittiness to the place that I quite liked. We had one last night out as an entire group yesterday. It involved many Imperials. Let’s leave it at that and assume everyone knows that while Imperial is one of the poorer local beers I’ve had in Central America, only fun can come from drinking $1 beers.

I made it to the airport this afternoon with just enough colones spare to pay the $29 (or ₡15820) departure tax but only because several people sponsored drinks for me last night and I didn’t have breakfast this morning. I would have had slightly more money if I hadn’t fallen asleep on the bus and missed the airport stop and then had to pay another 540 colones to take another bus to get back there. Turns out old habits die hard and on public transport I’m not all that different out here than I am at home. 

I had an awesome time on the trip but am pretty certain it will be my last organised tour. I don’t like the lack of control, I like my freedom and I like getting to do things at my own pace, however slow or however fast that might be. I loved Nicaragua and wish I could have spent more time there, Granada especially deserved more time than it got. The people on the trip were beyond lovely though. We laughed lots, played drinking games that required coordination (I always lost), climbed ridiculous volcanoes, tried to communicate in Spanish with our host families, and spent many hours in various hot springs. No doubt I will miss their company.

So, after 2 months in Central America, having tried many a local beer, having finished 3 books (I’m counting Animal Farm even though it’s super short and took just 2 average bus rides to finish), having attempted to learn Spanish, having gotten addicted to Zambos plantain crisps (I’ve tried all the flavours, chili & lime is best), having resigned myself to my legs constantly being covered in mosquito bites that never fade away, having picked up at least 3 permanent scars (courtesy of Semuc Champey, Lanquin and Monteverde), it’s onwards to a new continent. I’m beyond excited for South America. Which means there is every possibility that I will be majorly disappointed. But hopefully not! I’m looking forward to being back in hostel dorms, to eating street food, to the random traveller chats. I’m not looking forward to to having to explain the pronunciation of my name again on a daily basis. I’m considering a phonetic name badge but fear that might stop anyone from wanting to chat to me at all. And I don’t want to travel that alone. So Colombia, and backpackers therein, bring it on!

I have listened to too many different albums on this trip for it to have a proper soundtrack so the one song that will most remind me of it, courtesy of a few nights out including Monday night at El Cuartel in San Jose, is: Enrique Iglesias ft. Descemer Bueno, Gente De Zona – “Bailando (Español)”