Day 3. Paradise at Last! I woke up around 5AM because we were told that the sunrise was between 430 and 5AM. I missed it. It was bright; the sun was already out, which was quite disappointing. I zombied my way back to the bed and fell back asleep. We got up later on around 7 and started packing. We put everything in zip lock bags of all sizes. We were preparing for the worst. If the boat that was carrying us to Little Corn Island capsized, at least our stuff was going to be dried. We grabbed a taxi and went to the municipal wharf, which didn’t really look like a wharf at all. I guess it did, since it had a very small pier. As soon as we got there, we met a group of American girls. These girls were hardcore! Some of them spoke very good Spanish, some had been up and down Central America experiencing the culture in its raw form, and I based that solely on the experienced traveler look they had and all the kinds of medicine they carried. I mean, they had medicine to outlast any outbreak of some mutating virus directly from the jungles of Africa. They even offered us some of their field tested Extra strength Immodium for the “just in case” scenario. After a while of waiting for the “Skipper” to load the shipment of vegetables and other items that were to be taken to Little Corn, we boarded the small boat. We were undecided as to which side of the boat we should take. Do we take the front, where you take most of the hits and are sure to bounce all over the place? Or do we take the rear where it’s more stable but will get wet? After Monica decided at the last minute to go to the local pharmacy, we had no choice but to go the front because when we got back to the boat, everyone had already taken the back. We rode into the surf. I must say that it wasn’t as bad as I expected. I expected everyone to be throwing up left and right, for women and children to be crying, for waves to be hitting us from all sides, and as a married man: at least one near widow experience. Nope, none of that. We had bumps here and there and when we did everyone would laugh because Monica would scream like she was falling 90ft off the King’s Dominion’s Drop Zone. We got a bit wet, but the crowd in the back got very wet. I felt bad for some old man through whose face you could see the anguish he was going through.

The American girls we met. On the way to Little Corn Island.

As we got closer and closer to Little Corn Island, we were getting more and more excited as we saw the waters clear and become azure as we reached shallow waters . When we got there, we put our stuff on the pier. A scuba dive shop came along with many other business representatives asking us where we were staying and gave us a map of the island. Some guy was all over us. He kept saying the same thing over and over “Where are you going? I can take you. I’ll show you the way, follow me.” We told him we were going over to Derek’s Place, which we didn’t know was on the other side of Little Corn. So we did what goes against conventional wisdom. We decided to follow some unknown guy, in unfamiliar territory, into a jungle where there were no houses, no people, and nothing but a subtle fear that we were taking part of what could be one of those “based on actual events” horror films. No one would hear us scream if this guy would have been a machete-wielding psycho/entrepreneur who was in the business of selling tourist organs in the black market. All I could think about was the movie Turistas. If you haven’t seen it, it’s quite graphic and full of gore. Anyways, back to reality, we had all our gear in our backs which was about 50lbs a piece. We were very lucky to have new luggage that was very flexible and were the “Transformers of Luggage.” I am telling you, this luggage converted from a carry-on to a luggage on wheels with a pull out grip and finally to a backpack, a big backpack at that. (Thanks Dan and Carolina for this great gift! We wouldn’t have made it with any other!) We walked and walked and walked some more. The sun was beating us down and the heat of the jungle made us sweat. The 50 pounds on our back started to feel heavier and heavier.

Monica aka Rambo in the Jungles of Little Corn

We dragged deeper and deeper into the jungle. Monica was overwhelmed and I told the guide (and still suspected psycho killer) to take the luggage from her and to carry it. All these thoughts were crossing my mind. What if he’s making us walk to wear us down. What if he’s taking us somewhere where there will be others waiting to ambush us? What would be our plan in case anything went wrong? I said a quick prayer and kept walking. It made me feel a bit better that there was another couple following us. They were really struggling to keep up though. Our legs and arms got to meet the jungle’s mosquitoes on an intimate level as we walked for what felt like 40 minutes. But we kept walking. The suspected psychopath kept saying we were almost there, which we believed every time. We stopped at some plant that he claimed was a miracle plant. He said the locals used it for everything, from headaches, dehydration to even cancer. He picked up several big leaves and gave it to us. We continued on. Then the thick vegetation turned into palm trees as we heard the sweet symphony of waves crashing somewhere in the distance. We still couldn’t see the beach, but it was very exciting. We were getting closer and closer to paradise. We then saw the trees break open and the beautiful blue waters behind them. We walked towards the beach and were so excited, so happy, we were laughing. It was joy. It was relief. This guy wasn’t a killer! We were almost there! And paradise was upon us at last! We walked for a few minutes and then reached our destination.

Carrying a the luggage and a backpack... Whew! It was tiring!

A sneek peak of the beautiful beach Little Corn Island has to offer!

When we got there, we were greeted by Ana, the owner. She was very laid back. Verified who we were and told us to unpack and relax. Our guide, the former suspected organ dealer, stood waiting for his compensation. We asked him how much we owed him and he said 20. I was like wow, only 20 Pesos? That’s like $1. But then he was like, “No, 20 Dollars.” I gave the guy 100 pesos, equivalent to $5. I scoffed at his offer! $20 bucks! I would have understood $20 if he was carrying both our luggage, while providing some sort of transportation for us as well. Nicaragua is very cheap. This island was cheaper. He looked at me and thankfully took the dinero. Unfortunately for the couple that came with us, there were no huts available so they had to continue on with the guide (the would- have-been $20 hustler) onto a nearby place called Ensuenos, which we had only heard bad things about. We unpacked and let out a big sigh! We had reached paradise at last! Ana brought us some fresh opened coconuts with a straw. Who needs bottled water when you have fresh coconut water to quench the thirst? I laid on the hammock as Monica went inside our honeymoon love shack and unpacked. I was tired; exhausted, actually. But the trip was worth it. This place was amazing. It was a true paradise! The shade of the tall palm trees, the proximity to the beach, the cooling breeze of the ocean, even the way the ground felt with it’s mossy grass which felt like soft carpet, all added to the unique sensation that this was going to be unforgettable!

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After unpacking, we didn’t do anything. We took a few pictures and laid in the hammock listening to the perennial sound of the breaking waves at the shore. We didn’t even bother to go in the water. That could wait. For now, all we needed was to enjoy this moment. Enjoy peace on earth. Let our thoughts flow with the wind that rocked the trees smoothly back and forth. Laziness and deep relaxation had settled in.

Enjoying a fresh coconut in paradise!

Amazing view (Check!), Ocean Breeze (Check), Hammocks (Check), Relaxation (Check!)

I wanted to capture a full view with the palm trees. Voila!

After a while we decided to stop being lazy and go back into “town” (the main populated part of the island) to look into Scuba Diving. We walked back through the trail. In the trail we came across several types of fruits, mostly mangoes, but I found a fruit that I hadn’t seen back in the US for years. I was really excited and searched the tree for a ripe fruit. I couldn’t find one. They were either rotten and barely hanging or were still green and inedible. I wasn’t going to leave until I tasted it! So I scavenge the floor and found the perfect ripe fruit. Sure it was on the ground, but it looked perfect. I picked it up, dusted it off, and before I took a bite Monica warned me not to do it. I bit into it, part rebellion, part whim, all pleasure! This fruit was amazing. It was succulent. It was ripe and juicy. Yum! I offered Monica some but she said I was crazy for picking up a fruit off the ground and eating it.

As we walked towards the village, we were looking for ripe mangos off the trees, but we also saw the other side of this paradise. The locals, the born and raised in this land, are very poor. We passed a couple of shacks made of tin or zinc. There were kids running around barefoot working parts of the land. Kids that were probably around 5 or 7 years of age. The closer we got to the “village” we saw more of the reality of the people of Little Corn Island. They were impoverished people, oppressed perhaps, I don’t know, but it certainly seemed gloomy. I tried to understand how they could be so poor when there were so many foreigners striving and taking their own island from them. Hooray for Capitalism. As we walked along the village I started getting paranoid. This area didn’t seem to be the kind of place that tourists would walk around and go unnoticed. I felt the eyes of people watching us. Whenever we crossed paths with someone, they would smile and say hi in English. We would smile back, but I was always weary. I kept telling Monica to move faster. In retrospect, the village itself was extremely small, but in unfamiliar territory without knowing where you’re going, we felt like two mice lost in some scientist’s maze.

Eventually we came across two kids and we asked them if they knew where the dive shop was located. They guided us to it, which was very close. We first visited Dive Little Corn Dive Shop. The girl at the shop was very nice, spoke with an Australian accent and had the eyes of the sea, a deep blue that glowed with the sun. She explained the packages , prices and dive schedules. We told her that we wanted to go and check out the competition, Dolphin Dive, to compare. At Dolphin Dive the prices were cheaper. The Dive Master was a local who was born and raised Little Corn, although the shop itself was owned by Americans and ran by English. We had agreed that we would go diving with them the next day.

It was getting late, and by late I mean 5PM. We went to find a place to eat. I must admit that the lack of food options was a setback. I was disappointed with the choices; either a burger stand, some expensive restaurants that charge dollars instead of Cordobas while not worth the money based on the look of the place. Ultimately we decided to sit and eat at “Havana Libre, The Best Cuban Food in Nicaragua.” The lady that owned the place was married to the Chef, a Cuban. She was very nice and customer oriented, unlike other places. I ordered a grilled fish, Cuban style, which was not bad, but below average. Monica ordered a steak, against my advice. My theory is that if you’re at beach, order fish. Not beef, since there are no cows around. But she went ahead and ordered a steak that was tough to bite and full of fat. So she ended up leaving half of it on the plate, which would ended up feeding the little puppy that was running around loose. Oh talking about puppies, there are a bunch of stray dogs that are very friendly and extremely starved, which made Monica sad.

After dinner, we started back to our Love Shack. We weren’t sure how to get back but we figured that if we headed into the village we would find a trail that took us back to Derek’s Place. We had heard that if we came over to Little Corn we had to try the Coconut Bread. This we realized as we walked and were overwhelmed with the smell of it. It smelled so good! We bought a loaf and it was as good as it smelled! To anyone thinking about visiting Little Corn Island: Try the Coconut Bread! We soon left the village behind as we trailed the jungle for the third time. But this time, it was getting darker. The sun was going down and I felt uneasy about the looks of certain men back in the village as we walked away from it and into the jungle. I kept thinking “What if they know a shortcut and go ahead of us to wait for us and rob us?” Then my peace turned to suspicion. I kept looking behind me, kept hearing movement around. The songs of the bird had an ominous sound. Each cawing of the gulls was a warning. The breeze seemed to bring with it the smell of cold iron machetes and sweaty hands of would be thieves lurking behind dark bushes. Everything seemed out of normality. I was paranoid! Meanwhile, Monica, in her innocence, was peacefully walking the trail, talking about stuff, enjoying the gentle cool breeze, the coconut palm trees and slapping the occasional mosquito that would set up a buffet on her legs. She had no idea that scenarios of a bloody fight to the end with an attacker crossed my mind many times. A fight that would give her just enough time to run while I took on two or three assailants. I never saw past that. That was my plan. Give her enough time to run, should anything bad happen. Enough time to get away and find safety. But yet again, my imagination and paranoia was wild for nothing, and I am thankful to God it was so. Nothing happened. I should have been more concerned about the way we were going rather than who would be following us or would be ahead us. We got lost. And at time the jungle was so dense it was dark. We kept walking and walking and eventually ended up at Ensuenos. A relief because we knew Derek’s Place was within minutes. We went to the beach and walked back to Derek’s place semi enjoying what was left of the sunset, even though it was on the other side of the island. We reached our destination without any disturbance except for the mosquitoes that by now had invited their whole family and neighbors to dine at the Downs Legs Restaurant. We were torn up, ripped to shreds by them. These weren’t ordinary suburb mosquitoes; these were wild bugs, mercenaries without mercy, on a mission to eat and destroy. Ouch! I am getting itchy just remembering.

Our Love Shack at Derek's Place, Paradise in a straw hut!

Once back at Derek’s Place we laid in the hammock next to the beach. It was night. The sky was clear but surprisingly there were no stars, only a sleepy moon. I don’t know how long we were there, but it was romantic. It was what we needed after a long day. After a while, we called it a night and went to our love shack. For some reason my stomach was really hurting…

Our view of the moon from the hammock by the beach.

Value: For the price, this was an incredible deal. This place is amazing! As soon as you get here, you feel like you’re in paradise, right away. The palm trees, the soft grass, the beach, the hut, even the small little details, such as the hammocks right by the water, all add to an amazing experience.
Rooms: The rooms are small, not luxurious at all, and very, very plain. They are bare. No bathrooms. But it has electricity. Has a net to keep bugs away at night, but if you leave the window open, the ocean breeze helps keep them away also.
Location: This corner of paradise has a price! You have to walk through the jungle to get here. This is a daunting task if you’re carrying luggage or are tired from walking around the island. The location itself is great because it offers a great ocean view and is isolated from everything else. It gives you that feeling of having your own little piece of paradise, which is great, but when you’re hungry and there are no restaurants around, you have to eat what is offered there, which is acceptable food, but not anything memorable.
Cleanliness: Very clean and well kept.
Staff: Ana and Derek are very nice people. They were great hosts and very laid back. Very friendly.
Other Notes: I recommend this place for young adults. The fact that you have to cross the jungle, to get here, to eat at a restaurant, to get back to Big Corn, etc, is very tiresome. I don’t think an older crowd would be able to handle this. But again, one of the aspects that make this so unique is that it’s isolated! Also, don’t worry about going on a fishing trip. It’s not worth the $10 per person you’ll spend.
Overall Score: 4.5 out of 5 stars. If there was an easier way to get here, this would definitely be 5 out of 5 stars without a doubt! PS-If you’re looking for luxury, you’re at the wrong place. Go to some big resort in some big populated island somewhere that has been spoiled by mass tourism, big cruise ships, etc.

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