Little and Big Corn Islands - Nicaragua 8 - 13 Sept

Well no-one said it would be easy, no-one said it would be so damn hard either!!!

We had opted to be cheap bastards and take the long overland route to the Corn Islands using Chicken Buses(public buses that cram everyone in like chickens in the Kernels bucket) as well as boats and ferries as opposed to the super easy but expensive option of the plane. The next few days would be hard! We caught a 2 hour chicken bus to Managua (ugly sprawling Nicaraguan capital city) then a cross town cab for 40 minutes, a 7 hour seriously squashed chicken bus to Rama, slept the night in little Rama, caught the early launcha (speed boat) 2 hours into Bluefields (one of the ugliest and least safe feeling places we have been) only to find out that there wasnt a ferry for another 3 days. It was at this point that we caved in and took the plane the last bit of the journey to Big Corn the next morning. Lets just say that this trip made us hard core travelers but not happy ones.

But hey we were there! Well almost... Big Corn is really pretty, but it wasnt quite what we wanted, the beaches were beautiful however the place was deserted apart from some locals and the rest of the island felt too built up and suburban, we thought we would give Little Corn a try the next day via a short 1 hour speedboat leaving at 7am, after all the guied book said that this was an idylic piece of paradise as yet undiscovered by the throngs of crusie boats.

WOW! Thats what we kepy saying about Little Corn once we got there, this was more our speed! Little Corn is a tiny 1.7km island stuck in the Caribean with pretty, still waters lapping at the white sand of beaches polka dotted with coconut trees, oh and there isnt a car or motor bike on the island but there are speedbumps on the paths just in case you ride your bike too fast - "take it slow mon, take it slow". Some history...While the Spanish conquered the mainlands of South and Central America, the English planted their flags all over the Caribean and transplanted slaves all over the region from Africa meaning that today you have the decendants of those African slaves all over the island speaking a slow lyrical drawl somewhere between English and Creol (although you also have Mosquit and Spanish spoken here too). They are also devoted listeners of the great Bob Marley and in their opinion the even GREATER Lucky Dube (or like they call him Lucky Doobs). It was great walking though the island hearing home playing back at us...

We stayed at Gracies place also known as Cool Spot on the quiet side of the island. Gracie is a super cool Mom type who hands out hugs all day and the occasional free mango or avo (island pear) if she thinks you look too hungry. Our little cabin was literally ON the beach, we had to shake the sand off our feet before going inside and we could spit into the ocean if we were so inclined it was that close. During our stay here lying on hammocks and sunning ourselves we met Brad, Toby and Liam. Brad is a gruff talking, hard edged loud American from Philly but has a sensitive side if you're willing to hear it out, Toby is a Swiss hippy with a girl back home and Liam is the English/Welsh man Commando who served in both invasion forces - Afganistan and Iraq but you would never be able to tell, he has a comical nature and none of the brash crew cut style you would associate with an army man. These would become our friends over the next few weeks and great people to experience the island with.

We spent our days generally just enjoying the island for what it is. We would wake up and go for a soak in the water, climb a tree for a coconut breakfast, snorkel around the reefs chasing sting rays, play frisbee and bat n ball in the water, eat coconut bread and lobsters, bash down dominos with the locals, swing in hammocks, play volley ball and just enjoy being beach bums.... good times. Oh and Vix beat the boys at a game of poker meaning she got a free lobster dinner on us....yum.

By the end of our week in paradise our skins had attained a well tanned if slightly salty sheen, our bodies were relaxed and our hearts happy. We were sad to leave Little Corn, sad to say farewell to Mama Gracie who had treated us with smiles and hugs like we were one of her own (she already has 6, I cant see why she would want more?) and sad to bid farewell to the sand between our toes but we had a flight in Miami to get to and we couldnt dilly nor dally any longer. We organised to meet the boys back in Leon, they would be flying back while we were intent on doing the trip back better this time, so off we went.

First we caught a speed boat back at 2pm to Big Corn, too early we thought but it would be good place to hang around, do a bit of grocery shopping and internet before the ferry left for the mainland around midnight. On our arrival the dock hand pointed out the ferry, a little speck in the horizon. It seems that ferry captains keep their own schedules and he left at 2pm instead of midnight and no way were we hanging around in Big Corn for 3 more days waiting for the next ferry. So with a couple locals alongside us we organised a speed boat to go out and "catch" the ferry which was a high sea adventure in itself. The speed boat had done the catching up in about 10 minutes of wave crashing and now we stood swaying chaotically up and down at high sea next to the much higher ferry, which was more fishing boat meets tug than a ferry. Those already on board grabbed and pulled us and our belongings roughly on board onto the greasy deck of the good ship "smells like fish and guts". There wasnt a chair to speak of but some of the locals in the know had brought their own hammocks, we werent so lucky, all we got was a big piece of cardboard that would be our mattress next to the railingless edge for the next 12 hours through the night. We arrived after a stomache churning and smelly night to the river town of Rama at 3am where a self confessed jail jumper from america showed us the closest ATM, not the best guide but a necessary one. From there we caught the 4am chicken bus and arrived in Leon 9 hours later impressed with ourselves for our resourseful backpacking never say die nature!

Here we would meet up again with our friends from Little Corn, you would think that after 24 hours of rough house traveling we would be baying for our beds but instead we decided to head off and celebrate Central American independence with a party on the beach. After some fun antics including Vix jumping off the back of a moving bakkie for the M and the crew getting a hitch back on an overcrowded bakkie "ow my leg huuurts" :). We fell into bed at the Big Foot hostel and smiled, travelling is hard sometimes but always worth it...