I spent five days in Leon, a bit longer than I had originally thought I would. That’s what happens in cities like Leon – you’re lured to stay by kind locals, cheap and greasy food, a never-ending list of fun activities, and that little coffeeshop on the corner of the square that makes a fine latte. In those five days, I tobogganed down an active volcano, ate a few too many burritos, strolled along a black-sand beach, read two books, and wandered around Parque Central until I knew every street stall. I bought jewellery made of seeds and watched fireworks from rooftops. I napped in hammocks and tried to beat the heat by swimming in the guesthouse’s little pool. I attended my first-ever Central American mass in one of the region’s most beautiful churches. They were precisely the kind of days that make me excited to be here, excited to keep doing this all the time, excited to see more.
Nicaragua is quickly becoming the muse I thought Guatemala might be for me, the place I would want to stay for a substantial amount of time; my eyes, my ears, my heart – they’re all open, they’re all ready.