It is not a river. It is one of the main avenues of Managua. Everything is normal. It´s just the rainy season.
On our way to the evergreen Jinotega we make a breakfast stop at the road to ever dry Terrabona…
But you can still find enough water for a cooling bath…
“So here we are, once again with palefaces.”So said Juan Segundo to his wife when I arrived at his home in April, 1991. And here we again, with a new brigade…
It is Sunday, we are at the Estelimar Centre in Esteli. The brigade is in town for a week long Spanish course before they leave for the village.
Sometimes bad luck is so thorough that EVERY decision turns out bad.
There is no railroad and no station anymore, but the railroad station in Leon is a fascinating spot anyhow. A building from a time when it was English industrialism that was being globalized. Today, it is part of Leon´s chaotic street market, taken over by bicycle repair shops filled with spare parts from China.
A lovely village, a row of old foundations in an old pasture, under the cool shade of tall trees, a small hill, under which the little town fort lay buried until hurricane “Mitch” washed the bricks free of the soil in 1998), and a nice view over Lake Managua and the four surrounding volcanoes.
The view and the trees, the sense of the history of the place, and the indignation shown by our guide over what kind of people founded her country; these are the main attractions of the place.