Thursday, January 28, 2010 -- LOLA EATEN! WE FLY TO SAN CARLOS

We woke about 7 am. jess went for a swim, and I walked up for breakfast. lola’s cage wasn’t in its usual spot, and I asked about it. The young crew all shrugged their shoulders. “No Lola,” they said. I pressed the point, and finally they bought out her cage, empty except for one of her wings. “A cat got her,” they said.

Her cage had been covered last night early, so I can’t imagine what got her, or if something really did. A cat could not have gotten into her covered cage. A snake could not have gotten back out of her covered cage, not if it was swollen with Lola, because the bars were very close together. A snake would not have left a wing, either. My theory: The cage was covered last night because there was no Lola in it. The young staff were not paying enough attention and let Lola wander off again. One of the street dogs or a cat actually did get her. When the staff searched for her, they found only a wing and placed that in the cage so that they wouldn’t get into trouble. It is obvious that they are scared of Victor’s, and especially Amanda’s, reaction. I was sad because Lola was a well-adjusted little bird with a bright personality.

When Jess came up for breakfast, she too was shocked. Later that morning we went up to settle our bill and there was a Lola look-alike (sort of) on top of Lola’s cage. Danielle had gone to her house (so the story goes) and brought back her own parakeet, but it was still wild. It seemed to have more blue on its wings and I’m not sure it was an Orange-fronted Parakeet.

After breakfast, I packed up a bit and then took a long tube/swim in the lake waves. Then I packed the rest of my kit and took a shower. David, the taxi driver drove us to the airport, first dropping a L.A. couple, that he'd picked up at another resort, at the market in Masaya. I hope they enjoy it more than we did. Somewhere along the way, I realized that I had left my good camp towel at San Simean. I’m sure one of the help will love having it.

We had an hour wait at the airport, at which time Jess ordered several chicken fajitas. Of course when they took out the frozen chicken to make them, she knew she was in trouble. We had just bitten into the hot, sloppy fajitas, when they called our flight. I boarded the little 12-seat La Costeña plane while Jess hastily got a plastic bag for the fajitas. There were only five or six people on the plane, and one could sit anywhere one wanted. We sat in the last seats before the tail cargo compartment, I in the single seat on one side, Jess in the double seat across the narrow aisle. Once seated, we finished off the fajitas. We were the only two booked for the return flight on February 1st, but had been assured that the flight would come off even if we remained the only passengers. We needed the flight to make our homebound connections in Managua.

Our 45-minute flight was a real treat. First we flew low over cultivated fields and then out over Lake Nicaragua (the world’s third largest lake) and past Isla de Ometepe, with its two volcanoes: Conception and Maderas. Conception was steaming and smoking. That day, we read later, they evacuated some threatened people to the other side of the island.

Las Costeña pilot and co-pilot; Jess; plane shadow at airport; Laguna de Apoyo from the air; Las Isletas from the air; Ometepe with smoking Volcán Conception.

Our landing was a bit hair-raising. We flew so low over tin rooftops that I thought the wheels would touch, and then we landed on a very short dirt airstrip that sloped down at the end. But all happened like clockwork, the pilots making these flights daily.

We were met by yet another Danielle, a representative of Sábalos Lodge, who took us in a taxi, also hired by Sábalos Lodge, to a San Carlos shopping area. Both Luis, the taxi driver, and Danielle wanted us to get out and shop there, explaining that we had an hour wait for our boat. We asked instead to be taken to the port, so were dropped off at a large building similar to a train station filled with seats. Eventually we noticed everyone leaving, so we followed, and after a miscue found our boat to Sábalos Lodge. It was packed! We managed to get on—no easy feat—through the narrow door, and to find seats, though not near each other. People carried livestock and foodstuffs on and threw bundles onto the roof the way they did on buses. In fact, the trip was exactly like a bus trip, only on the Río San Juan. At our second or third stop, a women got on who had obviously just given birth. Her husband was carrying the swaddled newborn, and the woman walked and sat down gingerly. We later learned that they were probably going to the clinic in Boca de Sábalos that was supported by Yaro and our lodge. The spray from the river, which was quite choppy for several miles from its mouth, flew into the boat, so the plastic curtains on either side were rolled down and we could not see out.

Man with his newborn behind me center; his wife is out of sight

Until we got to San Rosa, a bigger town where we took on quite a few passengers, we took on or let off only isolated passengers who jumped onto muddy banks and hiked off through fields to their homes. At one stop we saw a barge absolutely piled with workers crossing the river (see below). The barge moved very slowly and dropped them off at a concrete ramp on the other side. Where all these people came from or lived was a mystery because there was only a handful of houses in sight.

We stopped at Boca de Sábalos, which is on the Río Sábalos just a few minutes west of our lodge on the San Juan. It and El Castillo make up the largest towns on this section of the river. A few minutes later, we pulled up to the Sábalos Lodge dock. Yaro, the owner of Sábalos Lodge, and some of his guests were there to greet us. It was nearly dark by the time we arrived. We checked in with Yaro and Carla (another seemingly popular Nicaraguan name), the woman Jess had booked with, placed our dinner order, and then we tripped down a path to our hut. One of the workers had already carried my backpack to the room.

What a wonderful lodge and fabulous place to end our Nicaragua stay! Our thatched three-room hut was right on the river and in jungle-like trees and plants. We got to it by walking down a gravel plant-and-flower-laden trail marked with oil lamps. Our hut, “Jaguar,” was the last one in line (after Tarzan, Jane, and Chita), across a bridge from its neighbor, and had nothing but coconut palms and more trees and plants on its far side. We crossed the little bridge, and walked up the steps to find a grand second story living area with chairs and two hammocks in it, a large bedroom with mosquito-netted bed, a day bed, and bamboo shelves for our things; and a large bathroom with flush toilet and cold water shower. Our third stay in paradise!

Me and our hut on the other side of the little bridge

Note 1: Sábalos means Tarpon, and there are many tarpon in the river. Some of these fish, we were told, can weigh up to 300 pounds.

Note 2: We both got a laugh out of “Chita.” So many Spanish words are similar in sound to English that one could almost get along by saying the English word with a Spanish accent. For instance, when I’d asked in Granada how to say “batteries,” I got back “bat-ter-E-a.”