One of the unique geographical features of Nicaragua which sets it apart from its neighbours is the inventively-named giant lake: Lago Nicaragua, by far the largest lake in Central America. However, it is not the lake itself that is responsible for drawing in the tourists, but the island set within. Isla Ometepe consists of two volcanoes which are joined together by old lava flows. To quote the Lonely Planet: "Ometepe is the sort of place that belongs in fairytales or fantasy novels". For a change I actually agree with something I read in the publication so often referred to as "The Book Of Lies", Isla Ometepe really does belong in a land far far away, however, as far as I am concerned, fairytales and fantasy novels are exactly where it can stay... the idea of the island is far more appealing than it's reality (based on my own personal experience of course).

Maybe I am being a bit harsh with my judgement here, but I'd much rather be honest and speak my mind than smile and nod along with the masses when I'm secretly thinking something else. Agreed, it would be much better to visit when there has not just been a record amount of rainfall, which has caused the water level to rise far beyond normal levels. These high water levels in turn covering the beach, and causing the lagoon on the island to become indistinguishable from the lake itself! Also, the trails leading to the top of the climbable volcano were deemed either incredibly dangerous, or simply inaccessible. I'm sure on a nice sunny day amid a drought, Ometepe is indeed the place of fantasies rather than nightmares. 

On my boat over from the mainland there were no other tourists. I thought this was probably just because I'd chosen to go on a cramped and uncomfortable "lancha" rather than the air conditioned ferry with cushioned seats and snack bar. However when I arrived at the island and got chatting to one of the locals desperate to offer his taxi/hostel services, I discovered there were exactly zero tourists staying in the village I had planned to go to. As much as I enjoy my own company, I did not fancy staying in a hostel all alone but for this odd guy at the port, and probably all of his family. Plus, the whole point of me going there was to meet people to go on the nearby hike up the volcano... until of course I found out there were no longer any trails that a sane person would consider using.

I sat and spoke to him for about an hour whilst waiting for the big fancy ferry (and hopefully some nice backpackers) to arrive. All good practice for my Spanish I guess, and what exactly did I need to rush for? Fortunately a group of five girls got off the ferry and they all seemed very friendly. I tagged along with them as they seemed to be much more well-informed than me on all things to do with the island.

First stop was to a place where we could hike to the lagoon. I'll rephrase that: where we should have been able to hike to the lagoon. However, the excessive water made it impossible, and there was not really a defined lagoon to speak of anymore! That evening we begged the hostel staff for use of the kitchen as the girls had been shopping for dinner after they'd been told there was a guest-use kitchen. The staff were not impressed, but they eventually agreed and a delightful meal of... wait for it... pasta, ketchup and a million mosquitoes was served. Yummy!

The next morning the girls were heading further into the island to see another water feature that had probably been merged into the lake. I decided to cut my losses and get back to the mainland. My throat was still really sore and I did not want to have to spend any more time on the island if I could help it. The highlight of my stay had been seeing some guy washing his horse in the lake just next to us as we ate breakfast! As much as I love the idea (and sometimes the reality) of these remote places, when the conditions are adverse, you are alone, and you don't have 100% health, they are really the last places you want to be: I'm on holiday, I'm meant to be enjoying myself! Maybe if I get the chance to go again I can venture there in sunnier times with a loved one, and the "fairytale" of Ometepe will no longer be a horror story.