Nicaragua: Just Another Sunset.

San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua | Photo: Olivia Christine

My mornings here are calming and joyous. I awake smiling; grateful for the sun and eager to begin my day. The temperature is warming up, and sleeping on the top bunk is becoming a bit more uncomfortable. My frizzed curls are getting unruly and my chipped vacation nail polish has long lost its luster.

It’s been long enough to realize that the vacation is over, yet short enough to not have started missing anyone. I’ve always been weird like that, though. Missing people. What an odd feeling.

Sage heads off to find new friends and I go to shower. There’s no hot water here. The refreshing droplets of the Nicoya spring creeps down my back and I stand still, letting it run down my face. A large dragonfly joins me and in my bliss I haven’t the energy to shoo it away.

While Sage is away I explore the town, visiting sodas and admiring handmade crafts. I wanted a bag with local embroidery, but everyone tells me the fabrics I am looking for come from Guatemala. I can’t seem to get the hang of figuring out the origin of certain cloths. I start to plan a trip to Guatemala in my head, already craving the next adventure.

Sage and I bump into each other later that morning and he is excited to invite me to meet his new friends. Brent and Nico: an Alaskan Firefighter from Kansas City and a French traveler, respectively. Nico has been here for a while now, and Brent spends his off season traveling. My jealousy kicks in again.

Why don’t I have a seasonal job!? Nico takes us to get some fresh fish and is anxious to make us ceviche. There is something about fresh food that makes you eat anything! The ceviche was light and satisfying, with salsa and lime seeping through every bite. We each found hammocks and swinging benches, drooping eyes drugged by the meal.


Time for Ceviche!
Photos: Olivia Christine


Brent and I got to know each other. He seemed to love traveling but had an air of uncertainty. I later learned he was under pressure to settle down. He tells me his mom once said he’d never find a wife that is on the same page as him, travel-wise. I laugh and argued, “Well that’s not the wife you want to have, then”. I always think I am Dr. Phil.

I reminisce on my own relationships. I am 27.

I spent about 10 years in a relationship that probably should’ve ended way sooner. But I was in love with an idea of a happy ending. In love with comfort. In love with the teenager he used to be. But we are different now. Not bad. Just different. And all I want now is someone to share my adventures with. ::Pause for deep sigh::

After our meal we head to the statue of Jesus Cristo. We always stare up at it from the beach, but have never made the visit. We cross a rickety bridge. Sage calls it the golden gate. It wasn’t golden. And the gates were ropes. The river that flows below us is dark and murky. Not your expected island water. They say Nico told them that’s where the trash is dumped. Great. I am pretty sure we were swimming there on our first day. Ahaha I’m dying just thinking about it.  

Hike on. I am out of shape. Sage is a smoker. And Brent is a fireman. I wonder who got up with the most ease… Brent carried me on his back the remainder of the hike because I am not quite seasoned with damn-near vertical walking.  Sage laughed and wheezed. I prayed Brent wouldn’t drop me onto these rocks. Brent probably prayed for the same thing.

"Golden Gate" Bridge
Photos: Olivia Christine

Jesus Cristo

We wanted to get there before sunset, and made it just in time. The sun was lowering and the sky transforming into beautiful shades of orange and yellow. It was a silent sunset. A reflective sunset. A sunset that I still adore in my dreams. The three of us stood there knowing there will never be such a thing as just another sunset here.