The surf was only one aspect of the trip, the other part were the ladies. At the Managua airport, Emily and I met up with most of the other six ladies that signed up for the week-long surf camp. Let me stop here and clarify something. These women are spectacular. Believe me when I say I have a realistic if not cynical sounding view about womens’ travel trips. I’ve done many. Usually the estrogen turns noxious half way through the trip. Not this time. Every lady made contributions to this kick-ass trip. Here are the Amigas...Emily. Where she travels is where I want to be. There’s a reason I have invited myself on her trips. I’m just lucky she hasn’t decided to visit Liberia
If anyone could convince me paddling out in eight foot surf was a good idea…it would be Em. Forget that Emily is edgier than an Exacto and is as confident as the sun. When she turns to you engulfed in pounding white wash and says “take it like a man” you just smile and say “ok.”
Emily description above
Jen. If a bottle of Cristal were a person and could laugh, dance, and zoom down a volcano on a metal sled at record breaking speed it would be Jen. Jen is the party. I could dance with a mosquito net wrapped around my body and still have fun if Jen is around.
Suzanne is Yoga. Not because she participated in it more than anyone else, but because she was so “in the moment.” Whether she was surfing down the line, doing a downward dog, or busting out African dance moves during our impromptu dance party…Suzanne embraced whatever she was doing. Suzanne’s gentle nature is such a beautiful contribution to the human race…I am so grateful that creepy-cult-guy that asked you for directions didn’t kill you at his compound.
Joice is down to have fun. Joice not only has a law degree but she has a PhD in environmental policy…SLACKER! She is also skilled in pop culture trivia and can challenge you about any horror movie. Joice is more lovable than a basket of newborn pandas. Everyone loves her. Nothing scares Joice…except maybe Ambien.
Andrea…expect to see her memoir on the shelves. I bet Elizebeth Gilbert hasn’t taken a karate chop to the larynx by her own surfboard. Andrea has. She still managed to eek out a smile and some funny insights. Most people would sulk for the rest of the trip after a bout of laryngitis. Not Andrea. By day three she was hyping up shots of coffee rum at the French restaurant. On day five she was in full force making some funny comments in the military jeep we took up the volcano. Thank goodness that surfboard didn’t knock the sarcasm out of you.
Talei is HILARIOUS. She has traveled diverse destinations, is full of cheeky humor and obscure references (Human Centipede). She might just be the female version of the Dos Equis man. One of the most memorable tidbits she shared was English translation of the Dutch verb zwaffelen', which is the act of rubbing a semi-hard penis on various objects.
Hilary, like Joice is a real scholastic. Anticipate Hilary’s future Fullbright award and probably Peace Prize for her dissertation on eating disorders. Witty, generous and the biggest charger of the bunch. Hilary was the last one to leave the waves. She wasn’t going to miss any opportunity. She came to this camp to enjoy every experience and she did! Yoga, Swing dancing, horsebackriding (two times in one day!) Volcano boarding, videographer. She’s one talented cookie!
The Trip
The week can be described as surf, food and conversation. This travel post might read like Groundhog Day with the various days blending together…but each day was uniquely wonderful.
Day 1
Apon arrival, Coco Loco green landscape was spotted by palm-thatch cabanas. Coco Loco is a legit Eco lodge intact with tepid showers and compost toilets. We were greeted by our surf instructor Holly Beck, who gave us a quick tour of the grounds.
The best aspect of Coco Loco El Coco Loco , besides the resort’s welcoming owners Jaimie and Lindsey is the food. Red Snapper, Lobster, fish quesadilla were just some of our meals. The fish was so delicious I couldn’t refuse, even though I was told the vegetarian options were equally delicious.
Day 2
After zonking out to the soundtrack of mosquitoes, we woke the next day ready to surf. Our group frolicked around the white wash for half the morning until Holly encouraged Emily and I to brave the outside break. Emily made it out in record time while Holly assisted me through my battle past the breaking waves. Once Emily, Holly and I were out there it was totally worth it, although I wasn’t saying that at the time. After going over the falls on one of the eight footers and being pushed deep enough to wonder which way was up I was thinking “now why couldn’t I be riding white wash with my amigos?”
After the surf we gathered together for a yoga session, taught by Nicole who not only is an amazing yoga instructor but also a ripping surfer.
Day 3
The next day we surfed a different break (I forgot the name.) More of the same, battling past big, frothy, white wash and gawking at giant waves. Holly assured us that the waves were mushy even if they they looked like King Kong to me. I was sure to get one of Kong's fists to the head, but I managed to ride one wave in enough to escape an extra pounding. One wave a day felt like a huge accomplishment.
The next day, Emily, Halena, Jaime (Coco Loco Resort owner) and I went to “the Point.” We weren’t alone, there were four Nicaraguan hot shots zipping up and down the faces of these waves.
Sitting before some sets I suddenly realized how inexperienced I was. In a moment of clarity or cowardice depending on your perspective, I hollered to Halena, “Get me the #!## out of here!.” Thank you Halena for guiding me through the channel and getting me back to sweet land. Andrea, Emily and I squeezed in a morning surf session with Holly before the day’s volcano boarding excursion. The universe decided Andrea had enough abuse and turned to me. After finally getting a wave Holly suggested I ride it in. As soon as the smooth wave turned to white wash I was bucked off my board at the worst possible spot…the impact zone. Luckily the waves were much smaller than those first couple days…but my body was exhausted from excessive turtling (I don’t know how to duck dive). I watched a set roll in. Anxiety and exhaustion make a bad combo when you are staring at an oncoming set from the impact zone. Should I turtle or ditch the board completely? Can I paddle out before it breaks? As my thoughts are turning Holly tells me to turn and ride the white wash in. Not listening to a surf instructor when they are telling you what to do is a big mistake. I decided to ditch the board and duck under the wave. Somewhere during the tumble I was struck in the cheek by my board. My first thought was…good thing it wasn’t my eye. The second thought that surfaced was Emily’s mantra “Take it like a man.”
Defeated, cut and exhausted, I decided to listen to Holly and ride the whitewash in. Why didn’t I just do that in the beginning?
That afternoon we drove to the colonial city Leon for volcano boarding. The driver dropped us off at the Bigfoot Hostel.
Once volcano boarding company arrived, we proceeded to pile into a bright orange military truck to ascend Cerro Negro. This was the bumpiest 40 minute ride I’ve ever experienced. Picture Disneyland’s Thunder Mountain without the seat belts.
After the gruesome tale of lightening flashing over the missionaries, I was worried for our brave amigas. Luckily the rain let up as they ascended the top of the mountain. They all made it safely down the slope, as you can see on the video. By the time we got back to town we had just enough time to eat, guzzle some delicious mojitos, and drive back to Coco Loco. /-e9aVBDhkYcM/TitvAKnRVjI/AAAAAAAAAVw/-UnhuDxDwII/s200/IMG_0810.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632717807596688946" border="0">
Day six the surf and fun had taken its toll on our bodies. Our group was more than ready for the luxurious surroundings of La Bahia, but you had to earn it by crossing an estuary to get there.
Day seven was a sad day of goodbyes. Most of our group booked their departure flights. Emily and I decided to take the day and head to Chinandega. She wanted to view the town and I desperately wanted to get some medication for the ear infection that had been nesting in my ear for three days. While in town there was a parade honoring the Sandistas.
Day eight…goodbye Nicaragua…good bye remaining amigas…goodbye mosquitos!
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