While we’re having a great time in Costa Rica, let us take a quick step back to Nicaragua for a minute. In particular, I’d like to consider Nicaraguan food. After conducting a family poll, I have found that the island of Ometepe is the dining sweet spot for most of our family in this Central American nation. Three of the five of us indicated our favorite meals and our favorite thing to eat in general came from Ometepe.

Ometepe, and Moyogalpa in particular, loomed large in our family dining poll.

In fact, Zoe, Lanie, Nadia and I all picked our dinners from the same restaurant as our favorites, even though we all ordered different meals. This restaurant was the unassuming La Galeria on the main street of Moyogalpa, where we ate on our last night before heading for the border. It was actually our second-choice dinner spot for the night — we were all set for the pizza place across the street from our hostel, but for some reason the pizzas were backlogged and we were facing an hour-long wait before getting our food. It was all to our benefit, as Lanie ended up loving her pasta marinara and Zoe rated very highly the two plates she shared with Nadia — four cheese pasta and terryaki chicken.

The Galeria’s menu was flexible enough to allow me to continue my pursuit of the traditional Nico dish, chicken with jalapeno sauce. Typically, I don’t go out of my way to eat spicy things, but this one caught my eye at the Nicaraguita restaurant in Leon and I ordered it a couple of times after that. It consists of a grilled piece of chicken smothered in onions and jalapino slices and a light cream sauce. It is usally accompanied by rice, slaw and plantains. The plates varied slightly every time I ordere it. At the Nicaraguita, the onions and peppers were uncooked, giving a nice crunch and a fresh flavor. On the pedestrian promenade in Granada they were pretty well sauteed, adding extra sweetness to the cream sauce. At the Galeria, the vegetables were lightly sauteed giving a little crunch and a little sweetness, but I have to admit, I liked this restaurant’s version the best because it was the biggest. It featured a really nice piece of chicken. Nadia felt the same way about her liberally seasoned terryaki chicken.  There was a lot of food that night and no leftovers.
I should add that I liked eating chicken in Nicaragua because they know how to treat their chickens there. That is to say they let their hens, chicks and roosters walk around freely, scratching away in the leaves and twigs. These are happy chickens.

The breakfast, lunch and dinner table at Finca Ojos Lindos has seen the end of many a good pancake.

Jen has trouble deciding, but when pressed, she votes for the breakfasts at Finca Lindos Ojos in La Miraflor. The pancakes were excellent and the coffee was welcome in the chilly mountain air, but the steamed milk, fresh from the early-morning milking of finca’s cows, is what put these breakfasts over the top for Jen. She also says nice things about the Gallo Pinto and eggs put out by Marcial’s wife, the Lindos Ojos cook (she was also the bookkeeper). Remember, too, that the coffee itself was harvested at the finca, and we could see the bushes growing from where we ate our breakfasts.

Other meals mentioned during my poll were: the macaroni casserole on our first night at the Finca Lindos Ojos, all the fresh fruit that accompanies everything, the waffles at the Rancho Esperanza, the Japanese curry at the Rancho Esperanza, the banana pancakes at the Cafe Imperio in Meridia on Ometepe, and the club sandwich at the Casa Veccio in Esteli.

Nadia is pleased to meet the Casa Veccio’s club sandwich.

I know.  You’re thinking: Pizza?  Pancakes?  Club sandwiches?  They’re not in Central America, they’re at an Applebee’s in Central Florida.  One look at that list confirms that not everyone got into the spirit of eating Nico food. We visited a lot of Italian restaurants and pizza places.

Besides my beloved chicken with jalapenos and a nod by Jen to the Gallo Pinto at the finca, the only other local dish to make our most-remembered list was the family plate at the swimming pool restaurant on our first night in Nicaragua.

Welcome to Nicaragua. Here’s a big plate of food: The family plate.

Perhaps this can be expected after two weeks of pristinely healthy food at the Mariposa School. I myself admit to being excited upon walking into the Hollywood Pizza in Leon and encountering a few pies, some beer and pitcher of orange soda.  Oh, and breadsticks, too.  I’m surprised that place didn’t make the list.

Good wife happily eating virtuous food on the patio at La Mariposa School

The food at the Mariposa should not be discounted, though. It was all grown locally and prepared well. It was mostly vegetarian and the fresh vegetables shone. Even Jen was eating beets there. The beets were so sweet! (Also, they were omni-present, so they might have just worn Jen down.) I have often heard of people going on purges at home, cutting out sugar, alcohol, caffeine, salt and/or processed foods. Eating at the Mariposa was like that for us (except for the caffeine and alcohol, of which Jen and I partook, but only moderately). We were served very little wheat or dairy.  The mere absence of cheese help my waistline immensely.  There were deserts, but they weren’t over-the-top with sweetness.  It was a very easy way to accumulate two weeks of healthy eating.

Gallo pinto at our hotel in Granada. If it comes with eggs, it must be Jen’s.

One more thing before we move on to desserts. Beans and rice are very popular here — particularly for breakfast, but some people eat it for every meal. Our farm guide Marcial claimed to eat it exclusively. He never ate any fruit, he said, even though all around him trees were bursting with mangoes, bananas and papayas. I tried to eat Gallo Pinto very chance I got, and I have concluded that, while the dish is fairly standard and straightforward, my favorite version was served at the Cafe Luz in Esteli because it had more onions and peppers mixed in with the beans and rice. Marcial may not have liked it, but I did.

The only other Nico dish that I can remember trying was a Nacatamale, which I also tried at Cafe Luz. It was cornmeal cooked in a banana leaf with some pork thrown in. It was good.  It maybe picked up a little banana flavor from the leaves.  I did not feel the need to order it again, though.

We had to eat so fast we didn’t get a picture of the milk shakes. It was not far from this spot that we got them, though.

Ok, on to dessert, which is what gets represented when you ask my family what their favorite things to eat are and you don’t pin them down to an actual meal. Three of us still remember most fondly the banana coconut milk shakes we shared at the end of our waterfall hike in Ometepe. The idea of the milkshakes may have been as a bribe to keep everyone moving on the path.  In reality, they were expensive, but huge and very good.  Sweet, rich and refreshing after an eight-kilometer hike.  (We have all decided that the last kilometer of the reportedly six-kilometer hike had another kilometer hidden in it.)  I was not going to have any milkshake, but it was clear that as hungry as everyone was, they were going to have trouble getting through them. Also, our bus driver was waiting to bring us home. They were less milkshake and more of a consistency of a Blizzard at Dairy Queen or a Friendz at Friendly’s, and they were a perfect combo of big size and great taste. Using fresh ingredients surely helped.
Other dessert highlights mentioned: gelato in Leon, mango and chocolate ice creams at the Laguna de Apollo, and the banana cream pie at the Mariposa School.

Lastly, while we’re still in Nicaragua, I should recount a story that I’m surprised Jen left out of her account of our Volcan Maderas hike. While we were at the summit, peering into the crater, we spied the Shaman of the Volcano. Our guide said the Shaman, whose name is Tom, only appears on very clear days. If you see him, you can ask one question and he’ll answer it.

We approached the friendly looking man. His twinkling eyes beheld us from between his bushy beard and his Red Sox cap pulled low.  Before we could even get a question out, he answered in slightly Manchester-accented English (that’s Manchester, NH): “You had 16 pounds of laundry in Granada.”

It was not exactly the answer to life, the Universe and everything, but it at least was pretty accurate.  The truth is that we had 17 pounds of laundry in Granada.  There may have been a wet bathing suit in there or something.  It cost close to $20 to get it washed, dried and folded, but it was worth it.

That, friends, is why you should all hike up volcanoes when you get the chance.  At least on clear days.

Ometepe is the first place Jen described to us when she starting laying the plans for this trip.  It is an island with twin volcanoes rising  more than a thousand meters out of the middle of massive Lake Nicaragua.  On the map the figure-eight-shaped land mass seemed very remote and exotic.

Nice view from the bar, eh, Tattoo?

From the ferry,  taking in the imposing cones draped in their own cloud tops, we felt like we were arriving at Fantasy Island.  Those of us who are older than 40 felt that, at least.

The port city of Moyogalpa welcomed us with a few blocks of multi-colored houses and a very Carribean feel.  Our hotel was less than an hour away, on the south half of the island.  It is at the base of the shorter, dormant volcano, Volcan Madera.  It is the most posh place we’ve stayed at during our time in Nicaragua.

Straight from the guidebook?

We did not find Mr. Rourke at the Hotel Omaja, but after a quick glance at the infinity pool with the cone of the the larger volcano, Volcan Concepcion, strategically placed in the background, Jen realized that the scene was familiar.  “I’m almost certain that this was in the one of the Nicaragua guidebooks I used,” she said.  It definitely was a view worthy of a guidebook cover.  Anyone who wants to check up on Jen’s suspicion can visit the travel guide section of the Durham Public Library and compare it to the pictures in this blog.

The sun sets; Lanie snags the hot tub.

The hotel treats us to sunsets that compare to the sunsets from the surf camp in Jiquilillo.  It also has plates of pasta that the girls can’t finish, which is impressive.   It has satellite tv with gloriously unadulterated, non-subtitled English programming.  And, an almost complete novelty for us in Central America, when you turn on the left handle of the bathroom sink, hot water comes out.   The shower has hot water, too.

Jen takes a break from Mojitos.

So there’s not much more we can ask for.  But here’s what we do ask for:  mojitos for Jen (this is her new favorite drink); fruit smoothies for the girls (the restaurant in the pueblo at the bottom of the hill has two types: one mixes the blended fruit with milk and another mixes the fruit with water.  They are both very enjoyable.);  pancakes (the banana ones at the restaurant in the pueblo are world-class, particularly with local honey on them; and extra towels.   Also, the girls don’t ask, but they wait patiently for the heat to be turned on in the hot tub — then they wait no-so-patiently for the 20-somthings visiting from Canada to get out of the hot tub.

Did we mention there are volcanoes on this island?

Mostly, Ometepe has simply been a pleasant place to be — more than worth the uncomfortable ferry trip from the mainland.  We have hiked around a little, once to a waterfall on the side of Volcan Madera, and once through the pueblo to a few beaches on Lake Nicaragua.  We’ve gotten to know the pueblo, Merida, a little bit.   The girls have a favorite little tienda where the lady is very nice and has lots of candy on her counter that costs a half cordoba apiece.    She also sells these fried round pastries with sugar on them.   I asked her what they’re called.  She said donuts.

This is a seriously tall waterfall.

Today was a rest day.  We’re recovering from yesterday’s six-kilometer hike to and from the waterfall (possibly the highest waterfall I’ve ever seen) and preparing for a summit attempt of the mighty  Volcan Madera, 1,400 or so meters above our hotel.  We currently have no plans to take on 1,600-plus-meter Volcan Concepcion, but we’ll see how our legs feel tomorrow.  Actually, we’re not sure how far we’ll make it up Madera.   Several people have suggested a lookout point about half way up as a good stopping point for us.  Then again, they don’t know about the boot camp training Lanie went through this winter.

Beautiful views of La Miraflor as we head for Esteli.

We started yesterday in the grey mist of a Miraflor morning. One last batch of pancakes, then a short walk to the main road for the 6:30 bus back down towards sea level. Despite multiple offers of substantial money — up to $70 that we would have split equitably with our friend and fellow Lindos Ojos guest Senor Joe — our hosts could not find anyone with a pickup truck who wanted to bring us to Esteli. I even heard Marcial call out to one friend in a coffee finca while we rode past on our horses the other day, but the friend’s truck was out of commission, or so the friend claimed.)

Zoe’s LL Bean thermometer, compass, magnifying glass zipper pull is being a little generous here. It was in the low 60s when we started our trip.

That means we sat at the bus stop with six legs of transportation between us and our hotel in Granada. At least we hope it was our hotel. Without Internet (and without cell phone service due to the poor communication skills of Mobal International Telephones) we had to ask the finca’s owner Katharina to call hotels for us when she went home to Esteli on Sunday. She sent back a note with her ever-dutiful daughter that said Granada was almost full, but there was a hotel with room of five. We would have to call and confirm before we got on the bus in Esteli.

One hint that my backpack made it inside the bus: the Main Street Makery luggage tag hanging from the overhead rack.

Leg 1: Although there would be an express bus later in the morning, we chose the 6:30 bus because it was more likely to have space for all five of us (six counting senor Joe) and our luggage. We get up early here anyway, and we pack up quickly. Not only did we not have trouble finding seats, our luggage got to ride with us in the main cabin. (You may remember that my backpack had to ride on top of the bus on the way up to La Miraflor.)
Two and half hours later, leg one was complete. In the hubbub of the Cotran Norte bus terminal — very near the spot where Jen was kidnapped a few days before — we tried to reach the Granada hotel on Katharina’s daughter’s cell phone. Nobody answered. Cue suspenseful music.

Leg 2: Ok, now back to the peppy Benny Hill music to accent our travels. A short walk out of the terminal to a crosswalk on the Pan American Highway. A man assured us that the cars would let us cross if we started walking into the road. Miraculously, no one even beeped. A small taxi stopped for us, even though the taxista’s girlfriend was taking up the passenger seat. All five of us sat in the back this time. The drive is only about a kilometer. It costs 40 $C. Why does every city in Nicaragua need multiple bus terminals? The taxi lobby must be very strong.

Greyhounds on the seat covers — a true mark of luxury.

Leg 3: A man in the Cotran Sur Terminal seemed interested in giving Jen a ride to Managua, then he saw the girls and me and pointed us to the ticket window. We bought tickets for 70 $C per person. The local to Managua was just about to pull out. No way, buddy. Tickets for us. Individual seats. Baggage storage below. An hour more of our lives to enjoy at the end of line.

We decide to break a $20 bill by buing something to eat in the well-appoined terminal. A few pieces of pound cake, a few tortas filled with pina and three packets of Ritz crackers peanut butter sandwiches leave us with plenty of change.

The seats on the bus recline and they even have arm rests. Observant passengers notice the cloth seat covers feature a greyhound pattern. No retired school bus this time.
We’re in Managua in just over two hours.

Leg 4: A few steps outside of our greyhound charriot, Jen encountered a taxista who could take us cross town to the Granada buses. But why not let him take us all they way to Granada? He offered $50. Jen declined. He comes down to $40. Legs five and six of our journey vanished into the air.

One of the nice things about taxi rides, and this should really be factored into the price, is that they become a Spanish lesson for me. I sit up front with the driver and we chat for a while.   It’s great practice with a captive audience.  The taxistas tend to speak a brand of Spanish that is more opaque to me than the Spanish our Mariposa professors used, and it’s a lot closer to what people speak on the street.  I nod my head a lot and say, “Si. si.”  Chances are that’s appropriate.

This ride was only an hour but taxista Edgar was amiable and informative. He drove us through the tony Managua neighborhood where foreign diplomats live. He pointed out the huge estate of a former finance minister who has opened up a chain of Walmart-like stores in Nicaragua in his retirement. I saw a fortaleza on top of a mountain that the Sandanistas liberated and turned into a boy scout camp. We looked out over the Laguna de Apollo from the opposite side from where we swam.

Edgar almost met his match finding our hotel, but after asking directions several times he got us there. Then he gave us his number in case we were ever in Managua again. And he took our names and phone number, too. Who knows when he’s going decide to go New England? I think he even gave his number to the clerk at our hotel. Edgar really gets around.
And guess what — it turned out to be our hotel after all. My new friend Mario had a room for five ready for us, with a/c and breakfast included. A big hurrah for the Posada San Jose, two blocks south of the cathedral in Granada, Nicaragua.

In the welcoming embrace of strong wifi.

Everyone quickly settled into the free wifi, but Mario suggested I go across the street to the Corral Restaurant (where, as guests of the Posada San Jose, we get 10 percent off) and watch the Champeons’ League match between Real Madrid — Mario’s favorite team — and Schalke from Germany. I only watched one half but there was plenty of scoring and the beer only cost 28 $C. It was a fine way to spend part of the two hours we gained through greyhound buses and direct taxis.

In Granada later in the day, it got well into the 90s.

Aside from the wifi and European soccer, Granada offers us many other luxuries. We noticed one of them as Edgar picked his way through the city. It was a laundromat and it will charge us by the pound to do our washing. Our clothes are certainly dirty, the only question is how much it will set us back to get it done.

How heavy does this laundry look to you?

What do our blog readers think? How many pounds of dirty clothes can a family create over two days in Leon, two days in Esteli and four days in La Miraflor? Post your guesses here or on Facebook. The person with the closest guess will get his or her name published in our blog in the form of a fictional Nicaraguan who crosses our path. and touches our lives forever.

The day started to clear up before lunch, so we took a walk to a nearby community

Here at 4,000 feet, still in the middle of this Honduras Clipper that brings clouds, wind and an inconsistent drizzle, you could look to the horizon the other morning and see blue sky.  It wasn’t raining in Esteli, maybe 25 kilometers away.  It’s probably been hot there all day.  In the Miraflor, we are learning why we’ve lugged these raincoats and fleeces around for three weeks.  We’re also very happy we have the use of some sturdy rubber boots, courtesy of the finca.  It would not do to wear our sandals around and get our socks all wet.

Making our way through the woods

The hope was that that the storm would pass overnight, but it’s still grey, particularly so in the morning.  The wind is probably not that strong, but because of the way our lodging was built — there’s between half and inch and two inches of open space between the top of the walls and the bottom of the roof — when the breeze picks up, it flows right through this gap and sounds like a subway train is passing directly above the cabana. It drowns out the rooster on the other side of the finca.

The strangler fig is empty because the tree it grew around died and rotted away. This left space for Zoe to climb in.

Marcial, our first day’s finca tour guide and our assistant host, said this morning that the day would calm, and it did.  After lunch, the girls were able to climb around in the 20-meter-tall strangler fig without fear of it toppling over in the wind.  This is actually a valid fear.  We saw several mature trees lying on the ground and Katharina, the owner of the finca and our guide for the day’s forest walk, says this is the result of an uptick in wind this year combined with an the emergence of a swamp in the middle of the forest.  Nobody can tell her why the swamp is forming, but the past three days of intermittent rain in the middle of the dry season will only contribute to the situation.

The outside of the tree was good for climbing, too.

The monster strangler fig is a major attraction in the forest here, and it sadly appears to be a candidate for windfall.  It was listing several degrees from vertical, but it did not lose its footing when Zoe managed to reach a window about 12 meters up.

Katharina points to the huge ant hill. The ants bring back leaf pieces to feed a huge fungus inside. Then the young ants eat the fungus.

When the climbing was done, we were treated to a wonderful display of nature in the form of a leaf-cuter ant highway leading to the ants’ huge colony.  Their order and economy among the chaos of the forest was incredible.

The afternoon held one more treat;  Katharina’s daughter saddled up her horse and let the girls ride around the yard.  Even Lanie got a lift.  They also got a brush to groom the horses as the horses grazed around the compound.  This was more than we could expect, and the girls enjoyed it immensely.

Next up is our big horse ride, possibly to a waterfall.  Marcial seems to think the weather will break and we’ll have a good day for riding.  Let’s hope he’s right.

I think that some poeple may be reading our blog and thinking: “Maybe I want a Loompa Loompa,” or “Maybe I want a trained squirrel.”

Now I’m not saying that all our friends go running around like Veruca Salt or undertake San Diego tennis lessons all the time; but it’s easy to imagine someone looking at this picture of Jen holding the sunset (no Photoshop needed — those are all Jen’s natural curves!) and then looking out their window at the snow drifts, and then wishing they were here.
But do they really wish they were here, or, in attempting to gain some respite from winter, would they find all this Nicaragua stuff is the equivalent of a bad nut (or a bad egg, if you’ve only seen the movie)?
Let’s find out. Here is a list of things that make our trip to Rancho Esperanza seem like the greatest beach vacation of our lives:

Really good sand and shells

Perfect climate — Will it rain tomorrow? “It hasn’t rained here in three months,” says Ross, who is kind of like the camp counselor here. Every day since we’ve been at el Rancho has been sunny and virtually cloudless. Even in Masaya and Leon, it was almost all sun all the time. It’s hot, but that’s what you want at the beach. There’s no humidity and very few mosquitos. And it won’t rain again here until winter, which for this place begins in April or May — some time after we leave, anyway.
Perfect beaches — Well, near perfect. The sand is soft (and very hot during the afternoon) and not rocky, but there is a lot of plastic stuff tumbling about in the breeze. Sunday also seems to be the day to burn your trash in the community surrounding the Rancho. But in general, it is a beautiful beach with lots of space to walk around and very few people getting in the way. To the north, towards El Salvador, you can see distant mountains, which I think are still in Nicaragua. There are also cool shells, but we’re not experts like my parents, so I don’t know exactly how cool they are.

Zoe surfs

Perfect water — The water temperature has to be in the high 80s. There’s no acclimation process needed for entry. Even Jen, who sometimes takes more than ten mintues to get herself fully submerged in the ocean, just walks right in here. The waves are strong but not threatening. There is no undertow. The sea floor is flat, smooth and gradual. We’ve seen no jellyfish or algae blooms, or seaweed of any kind, for that matter. No toe nipping crabs.

Nadia surfs; Ross cheers

It’s pretty cheap — I don’t know what the rooms cost, but it’s not terribly high given we can hear the ocean from our room when the roosters are resting (more roosters, I know!). The cooks will make you a peanut butter sandwich for $1. A big plate of gallo pinto (beans and rice) costs the same, and it’s terrific. Bottles of soda and cans of juice are 90 cents each. A litre bottle of cold beer big enough for Jen and me to share is $2.50 For that same price you can get five choco-bananas. The only thing that seems relatively expensive here are the breakfast items. Anything involving bagels reaches into the $4.50 range, but you get a big plate of fruit with it.

Good food — breakfast all day!

Plus, breakfast is available all day. Such an offer cannot be beaten.
You don’t have to go anywhere — There are several really cool-sounding activities available here, including surf lessons and horseback riding on the beach (both of which we have tried here) and they all come to us. The horses picked us up on the beach . The surfing teacher gave the girls lessons right at our complex. Actually, the surfing teacher is Ross the camp counselor. Zoe and Nadia had a great time with him today. The rest of us have our lessons tomorrow. (It should be noted that the lessons are cheap, too. An hour-long one-on-one lesson costs $10.) Also on our to-do list is a coconut tree-climbing class and a kayak tour of the mangrove estuary. We might have to walk to get to those. Although this doesn’t appear to be a highly developed area, we’re told there is a place that sells fried chicken a few doors down, and we passed a pizza place on our way in (though so far, the food they serve here has been excellent, inexpensive and easy to get our hands on).

Here’s another sunset, but don’t book your ticket ’til you read the whole post

Plenty of hammocks

Sunsets over the ocean — We have seen three tremendous sunsets so far here (Zoe and I saw this evening’s while we were in the water practicing her surfing skills) and there’s every reason to believe the next two will be just as good.
Ready to book your trip yet? Here are a few of the downsides that may make you decided to stay home and do a jigsaw puzzle of a Polynesian scene instead.
It’s tough to get here — We were fortunately able to meander our way to these parts. The drive from Leon was less than two hours. People who came here straight from Managua said it took them four hours and a few bus transfers. If you have the time, like we do, it’s best to make your way here in stages. Leon was a nice stopover. Also, there are not a lot of things to do in the area once you get here. There is a volcano to hike, but there are no notable cities. (Apologies to the residents of the city of Chinandega )
The atmosphere isn’t totally family friendly — There is a pleasant goofiness to how the Rancho is set up. If you’ve been the the Fabulous Umbrella Factory in Charlestown, RI, you might recognize the hippie vibe these two places share. But the clientelle is decidedly younger. One guy visiting from Colorado seems to me to be in his late teens, though I am looking though the fog of age. This might not have effected us as much had we not spent much of the last three weeks at the Mariposa School, which didn’t have a lot more kids as guests while we were there, but it did have a guest community that was decidedly more interested in us and our kids. A few people have talked to us here, but mostly we’re ignored. Except by Ross, who has been saying nice things about Zoe and Nadia all evening long. While we’re comparing it to the Mariposa School, we should say that the organizational setup is different. At the Mariposa, they scheduled excursions and you signed up for them if you wanted to go. Here you have to request the activities, and negociate the timing of them. There are benefits to this latter system (just ask the poor Mariposa students who didn’t get to hike the Volcan Masaya), but Jen and I found it less stressful having it put up on the board all laid out for us.

Practicing for the coconut trees

Internet access is limited and not free — That is why our blogging is not as consistent as it had been. As I’ve been writing, Jen has taken two trips over to the one computer on the compound that is connected to the Internet. Both times someone else was using it.
Finally, and this may be the deal breaker for you Veruca, there are neither flush toilets nor hot showers — Remember the hippie vibe thing I was talking about? It goes pretty deep. Actually, the composting toilets are good for the environment and are probably necessary here because of the scarcity of water. Also they don’t smell and you can throw your toilet paper in them (which you can’t do in many of the flush toilets around here). The showers haven’t been a big deal at all. The air is pretty warm here and the water that comes out is room-temperature. Showering has not been unpleasant, which is good because after a day in the ocean, it is necessary to rinse off pretty well.

Our room features multicolored mosquito nets.

So there you have it. Do you value flush toilets over predictable sun and warm, comfortable surf? Does ease of access trump a low bar tab?
Whatever you decide, I hope you find your oasis from the snow drifts. And if you decide to stay with winter, I hope our blog is giving you a warming glimpse of the summer to come. Short of that, have your Loompa Loompa bring you some hot chocolate and set to work on that Polynesian puzzle.