We were seated in a small boat under yellow raincoats and started to cross the river San Juan. We were soaked, sleepy and wanting to stretch their legs but we made a last effort to draw his camera and record river crossing. Much later came around faster than our boatman ducked hugging the river bank. That stretch is known as "The Devil's Stream flow" and when the waters calmed our guide, Manuel, announced the end of the trip. We were in a small village called El Castillo.
It was five in the afternoon and the sun began to fall. It had taken thirty hours of road, airports and rivers from El Salvador, Honduras through to reach that hidden place accessible only by boat, very close to the border with Costa Rica. And yes, was worth.
They were humble people accustomed to storms and crocodiles, resigned to live between the river and the tangle of trees
The village is elongated parallel to the river. The houses are built on the water by wooden pillars seem not to hold the current rapid. Only the sound of the rain and river flow break the silence of a people without vehicles. I missed the only street of El Castillo, trying to absorb that atmosphere of fishermen asylees in the confines of the jungle. People seemed happy. From inside homes wide open could smell the fish casserole with lemon and river shrimp. They were humble people accustomed to storms and crocodiles, resigned to live between the river and the tangle of trees. With the freedom provided by their small boats plied the roads of water to neighboring villages. That was his world.
The Spanish fortress that names the people did not quite fit in this place. It was another example of the colonial power, with its battlements, its stone walls and towers on which the soldiers gambled targeting pirates trying to cross the river rapids. There atrocious conflicts occurred between conquerors and pirates, but all battles ended up winning the malaria. Today is a monument eccentric without tourists, where children play war Nicaraguans.
There atrocious conflicts occurred between conquerors and pirates, but all battles ended up winning the malaria
Out went the day and lit some dim bulbs in restaurants. We went to rest in a small hotel called Victoria, where we were treated no distance, as in a makeshift home, endearing.
The gray sky over the jungle stalled the next morning. Alfonso and I went to meet Indio Maiz Reserve. We were accompanied by one of these experts to detect any things that go unnoticed. Thanks to him we find brightly colored dwarf frogs, radioactive, but that aspect of carnival hides a poison frogs keep their distance counseling. We also saw giant ants authentic processions whose bite, the guide assured us remembering a misstep in the jungle, is extremely painful. The book even has plants "treadmills", a species whose roots extend to the surface by raising the trunk over one meter. The roots are something like legs able to move the tree several meters in search of a better spot to settle. Trees were nomadic! Luck was on our side when it appeared an ocelot, a cat like all cats slender, not much bigger than a cat, but when he roars like a lion. Her elegant presence completed our walk just before the rain arreciase. We returned to the village soaked.
I would never had gone on one of those narrow canoes and certainly never imagined that morning in Managua would end tuck the San Juan river rapids in one of them.
We comforted the taste of boiled crawfish and fried banana while waiting for it to clear. Intermittent storms left little room for planning and had to rush to meet a new audiovisual experiment. We were going to kayak-announced Manuel- crossing "The Devil Raudal". I would never had gone on one of those narrow canoes and certainly never imagined that morning in Managua would end tuck the San Juan river rapids in one of them. But there I was, with the camera pointed at the shore and the good of Manuel encouraging me from another canoe. Alfonso and Jose Luis made their bets in the distance smiling. It was impossible to master the current and the next thing I knew it I was surrounded by violent waves, not sure what to do with the oars. I still wonder how fast I crossed without overturning those where English pirates received guns from the Spanish fortress ago 400 years.
That night we dined at the Hotel Victoria. We kept throwing crumbs to gather river turtles and crocodiles beneath our feet. We found it funny that meeting in reptiles with wooden houses but the inhabitants of El Castillo not board their boats unattended before the bank.
Shortly after we returned by boat, plane first and then to the nation's capital. They returned to the road, the asphalt world forgets that there is a magical place built between the river and the bush, a castle in the jungle of Nicaragua.
