At night, streets in Granada take a different character.

Familiar places look different and different places become familiar.

Granada is about to become past tense, about to become another disappearing city in the rear view mirror. Nicaragua is still developing, still a country where a privileged class picks the best fruit off the trees and sleeps on clean sheets. 

This evening the cities poor people come out of their houses and rock in wicker chairs on their front porches. Country people are cooking tortillas on front yard fireplaces and tending to the chickens, goats and pigs that sustain them through political upheavals.

This trip winds to an end but as long as reasons to go outweigh reasons to stay home, Scotttreks postcards will keep telling their small quiet stories.

Nicaragua, a place I wasn’t certain I wanted to see, has been a surprise.

I would come back again.

Making  new places your friend is an endearing part of traveling.

There is a bit of Columbus in all of us once we let ourselves sail.




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