Granada - A little Culture

25th August

From Papoyo the ride to Granada took an hour and 40mins, the first hour on a super fun, wiggly little dirt road weaving through tiny dusty villages with mixed populations  comprising of half humans, quarter chickens and a final quarter of pigs! Everyone in Nica seems to have a pig! They snuffle around on the side of the road with triangular wooden frames around their necks so as to stop them getting through the fences and into the fields where u would think they would live!

As I was cruising along I came across a section of road works in a village... they were laying a brick road and had completed one side so far... as I passed waving at the people I heard this solid thud from the rear of the bike. I had just slammed an upright brick into the back frame of my board rack!... the locals stopped waving and started shouting and whistling... I got the flock outta there!

A short distance further, whilst pondering the eternal question 'Why did the chicken cross the road?', I discovered the answer... 'To try and kill the motorcyclist!'. The little fluffy buggers are lethal... they walk out into the road, sometimes as many as six or seven at once, they look the oncoming motorcyclist in the eye then dart left, then right, then back left and then start flapping and sqwaking pointlessly in an attempt to attract the attention of their owners so that should said motorcyclist hit the totally deserved chicken the nice man with the machette will come and chop your arms off!

On this particular occasion a large cock with most splendid plumage played the game like a pro and had me weaving and second guessing for a good 20m as I got closer and closer until right at the last minute he played his trump card and made a break back toward the verge and consequently the direction in which my front wheel was travelling... I hit the brakes harder and pointed toward the ditch, off the road... the front wheel locked and I skidded to a stop just before the ditch in front of a machette weilding mans house! The cock, shook himself and walked off back into the road his head bobbing like he was some sort of gansgter, hustler who'd almost hit the jackpot. Not this time chicken features I scowled as I rode off grateful still to be upright and intact... I hate chickens!

Anyway the rest of the ride was thankfully uneventful and I rolled into Granada at 5pm dutifully following my GPS to the Hostal Mochillla, 100m from the main plaza. I parked my bike on the street outside and was quickly ushered in through the security gate... I paid the man $6 for the night and he opened another gate into the hostel and instructed me to ride my bike up the steep ramp into the secure courtyard as the streets were too dangerous to leave the bike.

The streets buzzed with people and the main plaza was full of small market stalls selling meat skewers, tortillas, hammackas, jewellery and rides in horse drawn carriages. A huge brightly coloured cathedral overlooked the main plaza and off in the distance a large volcano looked down over the city... all was very pretty in the dusky light. Calle La Calzada Runs East from the main plaza towards lake Nicaragua and is host to the majority of the restaurants and touristy shops... tables and umbrellas line the street and hundreds of people were out eating and sitting around chatting.  I walked to the end of the street following the sound of a guitar and found an open sided lorry back with two of the worst musicians I have ever heard singing in heinous harmonies (attempted harmonies) to an audience of 4 people!

I needed a bank which happened to be at the other end of town... without a hitch I withdrew $200 from the machine and made my back toward the hostel. As I walked down one of the main streets I noticed a rotund woman of about 50ish years, butt naked from head to toe stood on the side of the road scooping up water from the gutter in a bucket and hurling the contents down the street! I have absolutely no clue as to what she was doing but everybody else seemed to pay no attention as if it were perfectly normal... it was not normal!

I had been informed that a small local restaurant directly opposite the hostel was a much cheaper eat than the main tourist drag. Before dropping anything off at the hostel I went into the restaurant and sat down... the waiter was friendly and chatty and after I told him I was English he immediately exclaimed "Wayne Rooney!! Wayne Rooney, Manchester Red!!"... indeed. After placing my order I proceeded to take my phone from my pocket and started tapping away. The waiter comes back over and says that I should hide my phone, there are two crazies in the toilets right now and if they see it they will probably try and take it... I hid the phone and then watched as two local lads of maybe 20-25yrs fell out of the toilet cubicle looking high as can be, looked at me for a few seconds then stumbled through the restaurant to the front door fist pumping a few guys on their way out... you could see the owner talking quietly to one of the waiters gesturing that he wanted them out and looking pretty scared... after they had gone I asked what the trouble was and he explained they were a couple of notorious kids from the ghetto who often caused trouble, they carry pistols and had been in earlier and kicked open the toilet door... as they left he relaxed and all was good again and I ate my chicken in peace grateful to still be in possession of my $200 and phone!

Granada is a very pretty and lively Colonial town and well worth a visit but one night was enough for me.