Getting used to backpacking again…

I arrived yesterday in Granada in Nicaragua. Granada is just like about any colonial city I’ve ever been to. Beautiful, full of culture, churches, cafes and tourists. Which means it’s really not my thing…

I am staying in a beautiful hostel, complete with kitchen, garden, wi-fi, all at a cost of about $4 usd a night. It’s full of the usual Lonely Planet Trail suspects. There is the outspoken, loud American couple, there is cool, old Canadian man that just retired from years in the postal service and is waiting in Grananda a month for his pension before he travels through the rest of central America. Awesome. There is, of course, the career world traveler from Australia who has spent the past 5 years on the road and every sentence begins something like…

“Funny thing about working on a deep sea fishing vessel in Bali…”

“The worst part about trekking the Inca Trail in Peru…”

“when I was biking across Argentina…”

“The interesting thing about traveling in rural China is…”

“It’s JUST like a Moroccan to…”

This guy had been riding his bike from Patagonia. What?! His bike! He’d been at it for 14 months. I didn’t dare ask how he has the money to fund all these stunts. Probably a duke or something like that. Duke with dreadlocks. Or he is making it all up. He did have a pretty convincing cycling outfit and bike with him though…

And joining us at the hostel are the omnipresent group of Spanish hippies. In their gypsy pants with their tanktops. There seems to be 3-5 of them, it’s hard to tell since they all look alike. They are always making bracelets or earrings or juggling or doing something else that I deem to be in consequential. And then there is me, who is…whatever. I don’t know. I normally keep to myself in these settings. I sit back and listen to the others stories, but I’m not into comparing passport stamps (though I do love them) or who has done which trek or seen which ruin or surfed this sport ect… I don’t need to try and trump anyone’s adventure, mine are enough for me.

I have to get out of here. This is so not the scene for me. If I wanted to spend all my time with gringos I would have just stayed in the UK. Right now I am just going places millions of backpackers have gone before, seeing the same things and doing the same things everyone else has done. I like things. I like to look at things just as much as everyone. But it’s not the experience I came to have. I want to KNOW Nicaragua. I want to stay with families and see what the people that live here are really like.

But first… I need a tan! It’s sweltering here, and although I am resigned to spend my time sweating, I think sweat looks better on browned skin than white. I just do. Today I leave for the beach.

Omg. Someone just started playing a djembe at the hostel. I haaaattteeee djembes. I’m out. These are not my people.

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