I was a teacher of the deaf for ten years, then spent 15 years as the co-owner of a company doing government contracting.  And now, as fruitcake monger and eccentric, I continue to live a humble existence.  So when mom and Gerry asked if I wanted to stay with them in their villa at the chi chi resort called Piedras y Olas (Pelican Eyes) in Nicaragua, I said, “hell ya!”

Fortunately for me, Luke said he wanted to come, and it was very easy traveling with him.  It was also fabulous for my mother, his grandmother, to spend that much time with him.  The trip was as arduous as one can expect when crossing through two countries.  We landed at Managua airport at 9:00 PM and were surprised to have to pay $5.00 to enter the country.  The muggy, tropical air hit us, and we were glad to be in an air conditioned hotel!

In the morning a pre-arranged driver came to pick us up, and he drove us on the pot hole-ridden road to San Juan del Sur, two and a half hours away.  It’s a small town, right on the Pacific Ocean.  We were driven to the top of the resort, as that’s where the Casa Madrono is, the place mom and Gerry are renting for two months.

From their deck, you can see wide, glossy-leaved tropical plants just below, and a sweeping view over them down onto the boats on the ocean.  Beside their villa is the lap pool with that gorgeous infinity edge.  You swim to the end and look over the entire ocean.  One of the two restaurants is located right there, too, so we never had to walk far for a swim or a meal!

We often walked into the town around 11:00 AM, at which time only the insane would do such a thing.  It is stinking, ungodly hot there, but as it’s only 11 degrees from the equator, one should expect it.  One of the employees at the resort said that many of the Nica (their name for themselves) are sick at this time of year with head colds and coughs.  He said the constant wind, which is so nice, will stop soon, “And then it will get hot.”  That should be interesting.

We planned our days around our meals.  Breakfast was mostly ordered in and delivered from the nearby restaurant.  I ate tropical fruit every single day.  Lunch was often eaten in the lower restaurant of the resort.  One day Luke and I had absolutely delicious tuna wraps.  One evening the cook grilled a special lobster dinner just for us.

The bulk of the dinners were eaten out in the local restaurants.  Sometimes we sat under a thatched roof, watching the pounding surf, and wolfing down giant shrimp.  At other times we ate in the town, and had sumptuous meals of either seafood or chicken.  All fruits, vegetables and meat are locally grown, so it was all gorgeously fresh.

One can easily become accustomed to phoning for a driver, but all too soon, reality impinges and it’s time to pack your bag and go home.  For once in my life I have gotten a tan, so am feeling particularly smug.  If I develop melanoma in ten years, please do not, for the love of God, remind me of this incident.