Fortunately for us, the Santa Martha is the afternoon ferry. The morning ferry is only slightly more modern and only slightly larger and the gangplank we have to negotiate with our backpacks looks decidedly flimsy. People are packed in like sardines. Thank goodness it’s a calm day and a short crossing to the island of Ometepe. Ometepe is the largest  and highest volcanic island in a freshwater lake (Lake Nicaragua)  in the world and is formed from two volcanoes, Concepcion and Maderas.  Ometepe means Two Mountains. I guess they’re not very imaginative round here. Concepcion’s last violent eruption was in 2010. Lake Nicaragua is also home to freshwater bullsharks, known to be aggressive in shallow water, so I’m hoping we don’t sink on the way across. Our friends from GAP join us on the boat and they are all a little apprehensive as this is where they will be doing a ‘home stay’. Our accommodation is at Finca Venecia and is adorable with log cabins right on the beach front. . 

 The island is beautiful, traditional with little sign of development. The farm has their own horses and so I opt for the trek, whilst others go for an island tour, bike ride or visit the thermal waters. Little do I realise that the trek is actually up the Concepcion volcano, although we cannot reach the crater. The route we take is beautiful, passing along the dirt trails through the village, where people still live a traditional life, everyone on foot or horseback, as it’s the easiest way to travel around here. Fields are being ploughed using horses to pull the plough; chickens, pigs, horses and cows are left to roam freely along the path.  Up through the forest, our horses make light work of the steep slope and rutted gullies and lava boulders that are strewn in our way. Occasionally, we come head to head with an ox-drawn cart and have to back down to a suitable passing place, until, eventually we exit the forest to low bushes high up the volcano and tie up the horses to hike a little further so we can see the fantastic vista below us, with the lava river (no longer molten!) leading down towards the lake and the village. 

As we make our way slowly back down, I can hear dogs going mad in the distance, but getting closer. Then I realise it’s not dogs, but howler monkeys, foretelling the impending thunderstorm. We push on a little harder, and hurry through the village, part trot, part canter as the first spots of rain start to fall. We are lucky that it is only after we have dismounted and relieved the horses of their tack that the torrential rain starts.

After the strenuous activity of the past few days, I’m ready for the massage and pedicure we have booked before the group dinner in the evening

Our hotel in Granada, Las Americas, is simple but sweet with a hot shower, fan and fully functional aircon. Despite the exertion and long drives of the previous  couple of days, I manage to wake up in time to enjoy the free breakfast. Yay. Eggs, beans and rice! Again. Yum yum. David takes us on a brief walking tour of this pretty Spanish colonial town.  Many of the old buildings have been restored or are in the process of being restored and wandering around the local market provides some insight into life here in Nicaragua. Anything can be purchased here, from freshly butchered meat, to fresh fish, to all sorts of vegetable and fruit to clothes, drinks, toys, furniture and even a fighting cock, if you’re so inclined. Around the outside of the real market, exists the ‘black’ market. Whatever you want, it’s yours...at a price.

We stop for smoothies in a pretty community shop which also sells hammocks in all sizes and colours. Everything here is made and sold by people who might struggle to find work in the wider community. The  friendly waiters and waitresses in the cafe are deaf and/or dumb and cards with the relevant sign language are provided to help us communicate more easily. Whilst we are waiting we all take a turn in the party hammock. 

In the afternoon, we have another opportunity to visit an active volcano, Masaya, and despite being exhausted from the previous day, it’s too good to miss. At least this time, we can access the crater by road. At the entrance to the National Park, we are told that we must wear hard hats and that we will only be permitted 15 mins at the crater. Although Masaya permanently emits a plume of sulphur dioxide gas, and is well known for  its seismic activity and tremors, it also had a series of small eruptions earlier in the year. Recently, a man died after falling in the crater and his brother died trying to rescue him. Now access is strictly controlled and monitored. We drive through the lava fields and arrive  in  the car park by the crater. A safety wall has been built by the rim and access beyond it is prohibited. A plume of gas pumps steadily from the crater base. 

Our 15 mins is up and a few of us decide to visit the lava tubes. These are tunnels in the heart of the lava fields left by the flow of fresh of lava over old. It requires additional payment at the gate and so we opt to wait by the crater whilst our guide and the others descend to purchase the pass and fetch a licensed guide. Despite it being only 5 mins down the hill, they are gone for quite a while and we notice a change in the wind as the sulphur plume starts blowing towards us. In the distance we can hear thunder and see the lightning. It’s a bit worrying as there is nowhere to escape it and we don’t know what is keeping them. Fortunately, the wind turns again and we are safe when the bus returns. Apparently, the delay was due to the guide not wanting to go in the tunnels in an impending thunderstorm.  Entering the tunnel cave, the bats swoop overhead in the narrow gap. The cold lava looks wet and slippy but, in fact, we have quite a good grip. Nonetheless, I wish I’d had the foresight to put on my walking shoes rather than my Merrell sandals. Inside, the formations are stunning and the different lava flows clearly visible.  The roots of trees on the surface have forced their way through any gaps in the rock and add another dimension inside. We travel in about a 100m before we have to turn around and wend our way back. Exiting the cave entrance, we enter what seems to be mist, but the sharp acid on the back of my throat tells me the sulphur cloud has switched again. It fills my lungs and I try not to breathe too deeply as I climb back up the short distance to where the bus is waiting with aircon on full. 

By the time we reach the Lago Apoyo, the headache from the ingestion of sulphur dioxide is making me feel sick and dizzy.  Fortunately, a dip in the cool clear waters of the Lake help. 

Granada is a lovely place to enjoy the street life at night, tho its best to wander in groups for safety. It’s hard to refuse the shoeless, feral children from 6 to 16, clowning around in the street, then pestering tourists, selling pictures, jewellery and other trinkets and I kid myself that to buy from them is to promote child exploitation. That night, seeing the same, small children curled up in doorways without covers and their gratitude the following morning when someone gathers up our breakfast scraps for them  is heartbreaking. 

David has arranged for a truck to take us and our bags to the local bus station on the other side of town and there is great excitement as we all pile in the back. These trucks are frequently used as transport by locals and this is our opportunity to get a taste of it. We are a real spectacle down the street and the locals stop what they are doing to stare at these white giants in the back of the truck like cattle to market. The transfer to our chicken bus causes an equal amount of amusement with the locals,  then when we arrive at the port in San Jorge for the boat to the volcanic island of Ometepe, we know the joke is definitely on us!