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Leon was actually a much larger city than I had thought. The hustle and bustle was a far cry from island life. We had all read about Bigfoot hostel and were excited to be staying somewhere with a pool, pretty essential considering most of the days we were there, it was in the forties! Bigfoot was also know as bit of a party hostel or as my guide described it 'A place for whipper-snappers'
That night we all went out for some drinks at a bar with live music and the girls talked us into going volcano boarding the next day! It wasn't that difficult. Throw myself down an active volcano on a homemade board. Hell yeah!
Organised through the hostel a big group of us were picked up in a bright orange wagon and driven for an hour out of the city and up to Cerro Negro! Cerro Negro is the newest volcano in Nicaragua, only 150 years old and it has erupted twenty-something times since, leaving fine gravel and ash, perfect for boarding down.
The hour long walk up the side of a hot volcano in the midday heat was a bit of a killer but the view was breathtaking. On the way up our guides, Anthony and Eddie would stop and show us sulphur plumes and dig into the gravel to feel the heat pumping out. Once at the top we had a great view over Nicaragua and down the chain of volcanoes that runs down the spine of the country.
But we hadn't come here for the view. We had come to take part in what is apparently number two on the official 'Things to do before you die' list. We all put on our orange jump suits which Eddie insisted was for our protection not embarrassment and had a brief briefing on how to sit, turn and break on our high-tec boards which consisted of a three foot length of wood barely wide enough to sit on, a bit of rope and some Mylar sheet on the bottom to help it glide. The girls were first up (Eddie later told us that this was to smooth the run for the blokes) Some disappeared down the first part of the slope with considerable speed, some not so much, but when they reached the 41 degree drop off and went out of sight the cloud of dust was the only indication that they were still moving until they re-appeared in the distance where the radar gun recorded their speed.
Before I knew it was my turn. Sitting down on my board I pulled my goggles down, took a deep breath gripped the rope tightly. My heart rate had slowly been increasing but now I felt calm and ready. With a gentle push I was on my way. Slowly gathering speed I used my feet to control my direction before the drop off. Once you reach the steep part you are going too fast to steer without risking being thrown off so as I felt the drop it was feet up all the way. It was a total blur through my scratched goggles as I hurtled down at what felt like light speed. Within 30 seconds I was at the radar but felt like I was headed off course, determined not to get a void speed I lowered my foot to turn. Next thing I knew I veered towards the guy holding the radar and had wobbled off my board crossing the finish line on my left leg. The jump suit just rolled up and offered no protection from the jagged volcanic rocks. Finally coming to a holt I stood up, shaking with adrenaline and egger to hear my speed. 69Kph and still alive! Woo hoo! I had made the fastest run of the day by nearly 20Kph but was still way off fastest ever speed of 89Kph.
We had all agreed that the fastest person of the day would be bought drinks by everyone else. So I drank for free that night! Worth losing some skin for! It was a fantastic day and a huge adrenaline rush; I can see why it was so popular!
The next day we decided to hit the beach, Los Pinetos was only a 30 minute taxi ride from Leon and my first glimpse of the Pacific Ocean! We spent a few hours there playing in the waves and swimming in the lagoon before heading back to clean up before a night of Salsa back in Leon.
My handful of salsa lessons back home probably helped a little but I was still terrible. Everyone else was moving at more than double my speed and made it look effortless. Still I had good fun and got into it as the night went on. The club closed at 12.30 so were headed off to an afterhours bar called Chameleon where we paid for a private booth. I think it cost 300 Cordoba which is less than a tenner and came with two bottles of rum and mixers! Bargain!
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