San Juan Del Sur

After leaving Isla Omatepe we planned to head to the Costa Rican border and pass quickly through Costa Rica to Panama and South America. But it seemed that no matter how fast we intended to travel the guiding hand of the universe seemed determined to slow us down. A random impulsive right turn landed us in the beach front community of San Juan Del Sur. Despite its obvious tourist demeanor it had a charm we found attractive. Soon day dreams of opening a massage studio there filled our heads. We found a cheap hotel and worked a deal in exchange for staying three nights. There we meet an energetic and charismatic young man named Kyle. We joined him for what had for him become a nightly performance on the beach. We played guitars and sang songs well into the night surrounded by local beach bums and passing tourists. Kyle told us there was an open mic the next night at a fantastic bar/restaurant called Coquitas.

The house band opened the night and set the bar very high. After a few performers lowered the bar for us we got up and sang three songs - Oh Yoko, Redemption Song and Maybe Not by Cat Power. The crowd reacted well and it was quite the confidence boost.

After growing tired of the town and its seemingly non stop party - the nights filled with music and crowds well past 2 am - we headed to the remote beach of Madera. The long beautiful beach was seperated in two by giant rock out croppings full of tide pools and adventures. We made our way to the very end of the beach and the shade of one of the only trees right on the beach. Our first night was spent alone eating tuna fish sandwiches and spinning fire in hopes of attracting like minded souls. Unfortunately our only visitor came in the night to still my fire bag and my nunchucks. Sad as I was at the loss our solitude was not long lived as a seemingly magical gathering of beautiful souls began and my heart was filled with joy. Musicians, Fire performers and free spirits soon engulfed us. Our numbers swelled at night as people from the near by hotel were drawn to our fire and song. On the third day Miguel a traveling fire juggler showed up to my amazement and relief with my nun chucks. I grabbed them from him and screeched with joy feeling their weight spin around my hands once again. We were joined by Americans, French, Russians, Canadians, Nicaraguans, a Swede and a Norwegian and our international community thrived. The two Russian born sisters Slava and Anya inspired late night ocean skinny dipping and sunrise yoga, respectively. The young French traveler Victor played gypsy style jazz to which Pao and Slava took turns singing to in Spanish and Russian. The hilarious Canadian Scott drunkenly screamed Irish folk songs at the sea. We took turns going into town for suplies and cooked on an open fire. We ate little and played endlessly.

After a week the winds seemed determined to disrupt our peace, season our food with sand and turn our tents in to kites and the community slowly broke up. But the party was to continue in Costa Rica at the invitation from Slava and Anya to join them at their parents Condo in Jaco. So a few more days of recovery back in San Juan and on our way we went.