Classic

I am a University of Florida fan unless they are playing the University of North Florida but my old biases occasionally come to the surface. I tell you that in the interest of full disclosure. All I wanted out of life, from the age of seven to eighteen, was to play baseball at Florida State University (and make love, or what I thought was making love, to Kathy Ireland). Naturally, when I watch Florida State play baseball, I have to manufacture the hate that I am supposed to feel for them. That being said, Florida State has the uniform thing figured out and Florida is well behind the curve. I'm watching Florida-Florida State right now and our boys look like a team from the late eighties-early nineties that is failing miserably at being trendy. Think Rick Pitino's old Kentucky uniforms. Did the denim Uni's come to mind? They should have. Ron Mercer in a Canadian tuxedo, that's what the Florida baseball players look like.

Granada

Journal

I am exhausted. We took the chicken bus from Managua to Granada. They pack you into these old school buses. There was a crazy Australian on board who started in L.A. and was working his way down through Central America.

My first impressions of Granada were not so favorable. The bus station we got off at was in a dirty, run down part of town. We decided to hail a cab and head to the city center. The center was considerably better Granada is dripping with charm. I can't wait to see it during daylight.

We went into one hostel that was booked. Luckily we found an American who pointed us in the right direction, hostel row. The hostel we settled on is basic but pretty nice, cleaner and nicer than a lot of places in Europe. The guy at the front desk spoke very good English. $30 for a night.

Dinner was average. It was at a Mexican place. The whole meal, for both of us, cost $20. After that we went out for a couple of drinks. We tried two sleepy bars before going into the Moon guide recommended, "Zoom". Gator memorabilia decked the walls. It turns out, the proprietor is from Florida, a huge Gator fan. he served up the local rum and filled us in on the details regarding baseball. Granada has a very proud baseball tradition. The minor leagues are a bigger deal than the majors. The local team is called, Los Tiburones, The Sharks, so named because Granada (in lake Nicaragua) boasts the only freshwater sharks in the world. The baseball stadium is just outside of town and we are honored guests for tomorrow night. For $2.50 we can sit just behind home plate.

First Day of Our Trip to Nicaragua

Journal

I feel like a 17 year old on the brink of his first prom. No I don’t. I feel like I have done this a million times. Of course, I haven’t. I have never been to Central America, never been to a place where the exchange rate is in my favor and I have to worry about drinking the water.

The similarity is that I have been to both Italy and Spain where you have to struggle with the language barrier. I feel a lot better about the language this time because I have been practicing Spanish and, having taken Spanish in college, came into my studies with at least some background. It should not be as difficult as struggling through Italy.

Travis is in good spirits. He seemed a little stressed just before we boarded but quickly calmed himself. American Airlines is no Jet Blue or even Air Portugal. The planes are old and dirty. The flight attendants are in a perpetually bad mood. The boarding process is chaotic and frustrating. The plane is full and the mix of people is surprisingly eclectic. I’m glad we are starting in Granada (a picturesque, largely war spared colonial town). It should be a nice warm up before tackling Isla de Ometepe and some of the poor places to the North.

Retrospective Thoughts

My neighbors immediately left and right on the plane were both Nicaraguan. The guy on the right wanted to talk about all the clubs we could go to in Managua and the girl on my left was floored that we had chosen her homeland to visit. I thought she was going to be one of those people you don’t want to sit next to and probably would have been just that had I not broken the ice. She was constantly fidgeting and sighing before I spoke to her. I don’t remember how it started but I quickly learned that she spent her childhood in a little town outside the capital of Nicaragua but grew up in Tampa. Liliam swore by Nacatamales and - to my great surprise since every guide book says it’s a must see - had never been to Ometepe. I suppose this is due to the difference in the perception of time and distance enjoyed by the Nicaraguans. An hour is an eternity in the land of lakes and volcanoes.

It costs $1.00 to get from the capital, Managua, to Granada which is situated about an hour south. You get what you pay for. The buses are always a few minutes late (although they are much more efficient that you might think) and are often standing room only. They are old American school buses, yellow cheese style. Foreign travelers affectionately refer to them as, chicken buses, because people will bring their livestock or bicycle or whatever they are carrying onto the bus with them. I saw a guy grab a bicycle from a boarding passenger, climb to the top of the bus, drop the bike off up top, and then crawl back into the bus through a different door while the bus obliviously continued on its route. It looked like a scene from Speed, if Speed was set in Central America and the stakes were much lower. At each stop, vendors board and sell you all kinds of homemade treats. My first experience with Nicaraguan cuisine was a little bag of really spicy roasted peanuts that cost about $0.10. They were pretty good. The first purchase gave me confidence that I could eat the local fare without too any problems. That proved largely true. My stomach stayed slightly upset for the duration of the trip but not so much that it affected my mood.