Isla Ometepe - Scorpions and Tarantulas and Spiders (oh my)

Finally, it feels like time for us to move on so we plan for Ometepe Island and begin sorting out bus and ferry schedules.  Our buddy Alex decides to join and convinces Maelle to come as well.  Now that there are four of us we can easily share a cab to the docks in San Jorge.  There are two sailings for two different boats: 1:30 for the small boat or 2:30 for the ferry.  We're eager to get there so we opt for the earlier, smaller boat.  We watch it arrive across choppy Lake Nicaragua and it's practically sideways.  We pop a couple preemptive Gravols.  They load the tiny boat with people, building materials, whatever else they can cram on and I gratefully pass out.  We finally arrive and hop in a cab to Santa Cruz.  We don't know where to stay, but had heard Little Morgan's is a cool spot so we tell the driver to take us there.  On the way, a massive rooster nearly jumps in front of the truck and narrowly avoids getting hit.
"El pollo es loco!" laughs our driver, "Es suicida."
I laugh, a lot.

We arrive at the hostel and it's a massive property in the jungle overlooking the lake.  They have a pool table, tree house, and restaurant.  They tell us they have a private house available that the four of us can have to ourselves.
They start us a tab and it immediately becomes apparent that the bartenders are excellent sales people.
"Let's all shot gun a beer!" Shal yells after we check in.  He convinces all of us, plus a few other onlookers.  It's easy to forget that none of this shit is free.  On top of it all, they have a bunch of drinking rules including Buffalo Rule which means if you get caught drinking left handed, you have to slam your whole drink.
They talk me into signing up for unlimited rum punch and a pig roast dinner so I don't make it far into the evening and I can't remember who won the Superbowl.

View from the tree house at Little Morgan's

In the a.m. Mike and I rent a dirt bike and explore the island and eventually decide to hike up to the San Ramon waterfall.  The hike is way longer than we expect, plus we're hot and a little hungover, but when we finally reach the pristine pool of water, it's all worth it.  To top it off, we spot a family of Howler monkeys on the way down.

We rush off to get the tank filled before returning the bike at 5:00, but find ourselves stuck in a herd of cows casually meandering down the road, being followed by a 10 year old on a horse.  We make it back to the hostel a mere minute before the guy shows up for the bike.

In the morning we say a sad goodbye to Maelle and Alex who are headed to their respective homes.  Mike and I go to Ojo de Agua which is an incredible natural spring pool surrounded by lush gardens, but we don't stay long on account of the aftermath of the horrible breakfast we just ate at the restaurant on property.

Ojo de Agua

We catch a chicken bus back to Little Morgan's only to discover that there are three different people celebrating birthdays, including the Morgan.  A wild night ensues.
We chat with a Californian named Drew and mention we want to go to Granada in the morning and he decides he'll join.  The 7:30 am pick up time looms closer and closer and Drew starts to hesitate, "Maybe we should stay one more night..." he keeps saying.  Nah, we got this.  Hangovers be damned!

When our alarm goes off a mere few hours later we wonder aloud if Drew is going to ditch.  To our delight, we meet him as he's coming down the path.  We settle up (surprisingly our bar tabs aren't as bad as we expect) and wait for the cab which is already 20 minutes late.  When we finally hit the road we drive at an incredibly slow place towards the ferry, over an hour away.  We originally planned to eat breakfast before the boat, but now it looks like we might not even make the ferry.  Especially when our driver slows to stop and tells us the van is overheated.
No matter, he's called a buddy who has been trailing behind and we're ushered into the awaiting vehicle.  We make it just in time to buy our tickets and get on the boat (the bigger one this time, thankfully), but not before I discover a hitchhiker on my backpack in the form of a GIANT cricket.  We get to San Jorge and find a cheap cab to Rivas right off the boat.
Lucky for us, Drew is a strong Spanish speaker and asks the driver to bring us to a decent comodor that's still within walking distance of the bus depot so I'm able to indulge in my favourite Nica breakfast.

We saunter off to catch the bus to Granada but it seems there are no micro buses, only the infamous chicken buses.  All three of us are hot and hungover, plus Mike and Drew are really lementing the hot crowded chicken bus, so we pool our resources and spring for a cab, off to stunning Granada.