Back to the scene of the crime(s).
Trip Start Sep 28, 2011
333Trip End Ongoing
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After a heated exchange of words with my former friend, I depart the hostel in a sticky daze, the booze seeping out my pores and that lone drip tickling down the spine. I struggle to the bus station with my two bags, a guitar and a large bottle of water. I might as well paint a target on my head, or have a sticker on my back saying 'rob me'. She was right about that.
The guitar always attracts people. They shout from across the street, lunge forward into my face, strum the air and make comments I don't understand. Except when they say 'musica!' I figured that one out for myself. I do find it a little intimidating, as I can only smile, shrug and look like a total eejit. AHhahahaha...si, si, si...??
Traveling alone turns out to not be the scary, daunting, clueless experience I anticipated. I get on a bus, I get off the bus, I get on another bus, I reach my destination. If only it was that quick. Chicken buses are very cheap, but you rarely have any space to yourself, and always need to be mindful of your belongings. They put large back packs on the roof where they have a tendency to go 'missing'. I'm wedged between a tiny, middle aged Nica woman, her boobs brushing my left bum cheek, a chicken bus employee's breath on my chin, and my nose in a Swiss-German girls armpit. It's an eclectic mix of human bodies and it's not fun at all.
I suppose I should tell you I'm back in San Juan Del Sur.
Yes I know.
I get it.
However my friends are all down here and I didn't really want to be heading to a place where I didn't know anyone for New Years. My glasses are not ready until the 6th, and I've decided as best I can not to retrace my steps on this trip. Errrrr. Apart from now. Plus I have the added advantage of staying at my friends hostel for mates rates. I'm here. Deal with it. Seriously though, I can't wait to get out of Nicaragua and check out the crime rate in Costa Rica.