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Bridget's blog

Fincas, Flora, Fauna, and a Prostitute

So we've now been in Nicaragua for three months, and we're settling in to the daily routines. It's DAMN hot. That's right, old fashioned cuss words are required to describe the heat. Early morning is the coolest time of the day (but being awake to enjoy it just seems like such a sacrifice!) and it is also pleasant to sit out the back on the hammocks late at night when the air has cooled a bit. We are waiting for the rain to come.

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Senorita Granada Gay 2007

Disappointingly enough, I have no photos to accompany this entry. While it was a dynamite photo-op, I would have felt a bit invasive jumping around with my camera at the time, so it remained in my bag. However, while a picture is worth a thousand words, there is no way a picture could do justice to the way the evening ensued. So attached is an irrelevant photo of the bird’s nest, complete with bird, in a tree in our back garden. Allow me to set the scene...

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Washing, Jesuses, and lab specimens in my back pack...

As of today, we have been in Nicaragua for eight weeks... how time flies when Jesus has graced your front door religiously (yes, aren’t I amusing) every Thursday for the last month in preparation for that most holy of weeks, Semana Santa.

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Flickr link to our photos

Hi everybody, our photos are here... did you know that Jesus visits our new front door often? It's almost as good as having an island...

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We have a house…

Yes, haven’t I been terribly slack keeping you all up to date? But that would be because David and I have been devoting all our time to finding suitable real estate…

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Dear food lovers,

This entry is for you. As you all well know, food needs to be taken seriously. And I know you’re curious. So here goes: Nicaragua - the food.

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Our Esteli road-trip

When we got back from dinner after volcano, the guys who run our hotel were sitting out the front in their plastic chairs watching the world go by and gossiping with all and sundry who passed. When they saw us their eyes lit up and they shepherded us inside, looking very important, and produced a letter for us.

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Folk dancing and Mombacho

So far, it had been two days at school and we had seen: the museum; San Fransisco cathedral; the cemetery where there are many Sandinistas (and you’re reminded how recent the war is… some of those kids only died in the early eighties);

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Languishing in school and jail in Granada

No, they certainly aren’t the same thing. Even though getting up at five thirty so we can be at school may seem a bit like it. So we’ve been at school for a week now, managed to enrol and everything.

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Hola Granada…

On Sunday morning, we checked out of our hotel. Which we weren’t having that much fun in anyway.

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Managua, city of crazed motorists.

When we arrived at Nica international airport in managua, it was: very hot; all in Spanish; somewhat like landing in Launceston airport but not as green. Nothing screams international airport like a couple of dusty hangars and a small (mercifully airconditioned) building.

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Australia - just so far away from everything else…

So here I am in Nicaragua. Odd choice, some say. Not your usual travel destination, some say. “Why the hell are you going there?” Enquired the customs guy at LAX. “Are you scientists or something?” I wanted to say “Who are you to question me, when the first thing I see when I get off the plane into your airport is framed photos of Georgie and Dick glowering down at me from the wall dictatorship style?” But of course I didn’t, because when you are trying to get into America it is generally acknowledged that you just allow the guys in uniform to say whatever they want.

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