Our really old Plane, La Costena
We woke up at 4:45 and called La Costena, the regional airline that would be taking us to Big Corn Island, because we hadn’t made any reservations. They said that there were some spaces available but that we would need to get there ASAP. When we got there, our equipment was weighted and then we were weighed. Yes, you read it right: we were weighted. The plane is an old plane, maybe from the 1940’s, I don’t know, I could be wrong, but it’s definately old. We boarded the plane along with many europeans, and a couple Americans. We flew to Bluefields, where some got off, some got on, but most stayed in the plane. There was a drunkard that tried to board the plane but when the stewardess apparently smelled his breath, reeking of alcohol, she alerted the pilot. The pilot, an old lady with an authoritative presence, came out of the cockpit and told the drunk that he couldn’t board the plane because of his drunken state. He started yelling that Nicaragua was a “disgrace and that there should be war!” at which point all the passengers watched as he was carried away by security guards. We flew once again. When we arrived to Big Corn Island it was raining 
We hurried across the runway and into the very small room where we were to pick up luggage. In effort to emphasize how old this plane really is, I’ve opted to put a pic of it in Sepia tone, just like the pics our grandparents use to have..
We took a taxi to Casa Canada. The taxi driver was very mellow young guy. He spoke a broken English with a Caribbean accent, almost Jamaican-like. The rain had ceased when we arrived. This place is the best hotel in all of Big Corn, and I say this in literal terms, not figuratively. The staff was very welcoming, the place very clean and furnished and talk about prime real estate! All rooms where within spitting distance of the beach. It had a very nice “infinity pool” overlooking the ocean, a restaurant and subtle details all around. Once we were given our room we fell asleep since we hadn’t slept much. When we awakened, the sun was out and you could see the beauty of the clear waters as well as the dark spots on the water indicating the corals that lay beneath. Monica went to the restaurant and ordered a chicken sandwich, which was good, but not worth the $8 it cost, not here in Nicaragua at least.
All rooms in Casa Canada where within Diving range off the beach!
Casa Canada had one sick Infinity Pool!
After we hung out, we decided that we should take a tour of the island, so we rented a taxi for an hour to drive us around. We drove around the entire island in less than an hour; it took us that long because we stopped at every corner to see if it was a good moment for a photograph, but unfortunately gust of rain and dark clouds dampened our hopes in making a Kodak moment. Our driver told us that the island was torn to pieces about 10 years ago by some hurricane. He also told us that I may be inheriting a piece of the island, really. Well not exactly but he did mentioned, as Monica found out earlier, that the biggest family in the islands are the Downs. We made to the other side of the island, the “Picnic Beach” and the water was serene, like a lazy lake. It was very beautiful and soothing. The beach was deserted and the sun was setting behind the gray clouds. We took a few pictures as Mr. Downs Downs, our taxi driver, took us back to Casa Canada.
The sky and the water were absolutely beautiful!
Monica contemplating the serenity of the beach.
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For our honeymoon we decided that we would go tribal, literally. I am talking about going to a real virgin island. An island that has been untouched by big hotel chains, polluting cruises and most of all, little to no mass tourism! I am talking about crystalline waters, deserted beaches, coconut palm trees dancing with the ocean breeze and that feeling that problems stayed behind in some city, some where, forgotten. We went to two islands off the coast on my native Nicaragua, Big Corn and Little Corn. These islands are about 40 miles from the mainland, but infinitely distant from a hurried world. This is paradise, laid deep into the dreams of those who want to experience raw beauty. Observe the picture below and notice how there are no tall building and only small huts or house barely visible through the trees!
We must first thank Bianca for taking us to the Dulles Airport in at 4 in the morning, even though Monica totally confused the airport we were supposed to depart from. We were supposed to go to DCA but she told Bianca to take us Dulles. Once there, and once Bianca had left, we realized the mistake when our ticket agent told us that, well, we were are the wrong airport. Thank God that she was kind enough get us on the next flight hassle free.
We first arrived to Managua, the capital, where we were greeted by Iris, a childhood friend who has now lost his baby face and is sporting a semi-mustache and a band on his ring finger. Nicaragua hasn’t changed much since our last visit in 05. The humidity still made you sweat within a minute of arriving, the streets still crowded with poverty and hope, American influences (for the better or worse), the occasional donkey carriage in real need to be in an episode of “Pimp My Car…. or Donkey!” and of course the streets with no name. When we arrived to my uncle/father’s house, he wasn’t there. He had become somewhat a philanthropist, in a Nica kind of way. His business has sponsored a team of neighborhood kids to play soccer.
Him and his wife,have taken on the role of father and mother of 22 kids. They have gotten them involved in sports so that they would not be roaming the streets. They actually go to their school and follow to see how they are doing in school, which is something that their bioligical parents don’t do. Anyways, we dropped off our stuff at the house and went to the soccer field. There my uncle/father Robert was yelling at the referee and guiding his team to another victory.
It was something special watching these kids who are 10-12 years of age, who might as well be orphaned due to their parents lack of interest in their lives, come together and play with discipline and heart. This team is the kind of team that nobody believed in; a team made up of scrawny rejects, the kind that would always be picked last. The kind of team that Disney would make a movie out of: the underdogs who had no discipline, no hope in life, no dreams, no goals, but with the right coach they came together and believed in themselves, believed in hope and found out that with discipline and hard work anything is possible: including a championship title. (After we came back from the honeymoon, Robert called me and told me that they had won the championship. And that the kids cried of joy for what they had accomplished and for their parents who actually showed up to support them, some of which didn’t even know their son played soccer until that day).
- Soccer Team Servicios Multiples Martinez
Later that day we went to dinner. We went to a very nice restaurant where the food was excellent. We had steak, rice and beans, fried cheese, plantains and a salad accompanied with a Rojita (red soda pop), all the essentials for a Nica dinner. One the way home, we stopped and bought some Dramamine for the boat ride that will be awaiting us two days. When we got home, Monica passed out while Robert and I caught up a bit. We spoke of U.S. politics and how Obama is favored over there because “he’s not Bush.” We watched the wedding video, which made me want to kill Dan and my brothers! (I’m just kidding Dan, you didn’t do too much of a terrible job). hehe. Then I went to sleep around 1AM which felt like much, much later for two reasons: first, the sun sets around 6 and there’s a two hour difference, so in reality it would have been 3AM DC time).
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