Bewitched by Ometepe

By Julia
Playa Santo Domingo, Isla de Ometepe, Nicaragua

  "Out of the midst of the beautiful Lake Nicaragua spring two magnificent pyramids, clad in the softest and richest green, all flecked with shadow and sunshine, whose summits pierce the billowy clouds. They look so isolated from the world and its turmoil - so tranquil, so dreamy, so steeped in slumber and eternal repose. What a home one might make among their shady forests, their sunny slopes, their breezy dells, after he had grown weary of the toil, anxiety and unrest of the bustling, driving world."

- Mark Twain upon seeing Ometepe Island, 1867

  

  Isla de Ometepe is one of those places you hesitate to tell people about, for fear of a hidden gem suddenly becoming exploited.  When indigenous tribes from mainland Nicaragua discovered Ometepe thousands of years ago, they thought they had disovered the Promised Land.  As Tom and I sailed closer to the island on a questionably-seaworthy ferry earlier this week, I began to feel that way too. 

  
Two volcanos jut out of Lake Nicaragua to form Isla de Ometepe. The resulting islands, joined by a narrow isthmus, boast lush vegetation and beautiful, ashy beaches.  Mango trees, hibiscus, tropical flowers of all shapes and colors spring effortlessly out of the rich soil here.  The entire island is organic, owing partially to the nutrient-rich earth and the high cost of pesticides from the mainland.

 

 The only way to possibly describe this island is mystical. Butterflies abound in the thousands, flitting across your eye line with practically every step like delicate, well-meaning sprites.  A rich cultural history dating back to 800 BC (or depending on who you ask, 2000 BC) is evidenced everywhere.  From the ancient petroglyphs depicting sun Gods and monkeys to legends of the witch ghost who protects the inlet of a particular beach, the island is rife with myth.  

 

  

We have been staying at clean hostels with lush gardens and hammocks for as little as $12/night.  We see more piglets than other travelers on the average day (though we have befriended several fellow travelers). A few nights ago, we were treated to a gorgeous sunset on the west side of the island. 

  We would stay here forever, but word on the street is that the big volcano, Conception, could blow at any moment.  In the afternoons you can sometimes here the rumbles of the volcanos and understand why people would think that sound is the Gods growing angry.  On Ometepe, the myths of the past are alive, though I for one prefer to think of the Gods' rumbling as hunger rather than anger.