The memory of the previous night was still pretty fresh in our minds as we woke to a beautiful sunny morning in the city of Leon. Stuck at some random petrol station the night prior amid raging rain and thunder, we had been unable to get a bus to our final destination of Aposentillo. Also known as La Boom we had heard rumours of a great wave in northern Nicaragua. All you had to do was get to Chinandega from where everyone would know how to get you to La Boom. Last night at least, it had seemed an impossible task to everyone we had asked and so we had decided to catch the bus to the comfier setting of Leon to rest. It had been an incredibly long and tiresome day and by the end, the last thing we needed was that bad news. I could tell Jane was getting to the end of her tether regarding hell raising missions to find secluded surf breaks and I tried to make it up to her that morning the best I could. While she had a lie in I tried to gather as much info as I could to make the next journey as painless as possible. Then we had a great breakfast of blueberry pancakes, fresh juices, coffee, fruit and granola then indulged in a little retail therapy, although Leon had pretty limited stock on display at the markets.
Eventually by mid day we set off once again to try to make it to La Boom. We arrived back in Chinandega, an approximately forty minute back track, just in time to miss the bus to the beach. Today though, everyone seemed to know La Boom so this time we just worked out a reasonable price with a taxi and took the easy route. The easy route never felt better as we zipped through the lush green countryside and passed the bus we were supposed to have made to see people squashed up against the windows and hanging out the doors. Thank you very much!
After a little scouting we eventually picked a slightly pricier, but much nicer hostel/surf camp right in front of the surf break.
The wind was up, so I didn't surf that day, just hung with Jane. We took a walk along the beach together and feasted on some tasty, although rather expensive food (by central American standards at least). Then later that night, we were witness to mother nature's best party trick - the biggest craziest lightning storm ever. For about three hours just before bed, the rain bucketed down as the lightning and thunder roared to life. Every two to three seconds the whole sky would light up and soon after a crack of thunder would erupt so loud that the foundations of our camp seemed to shake. At times the clap would sound so close that we thought we might find a tree or hut in flames but it never happened thankfully.
The next morning I woke at 4:45am to find the storm had passed and the silent glow of dawn was now burning on the horizon. In the past day, the owners had delighted in telling me a number of stories of injuries at the now notoriously heavy break. The owner himself had recently broken his foot and his back and I was rather hoping not to be surfing alone that morning. Alas no one was up. Maybe I shouldn't have got up quite so early, but the tide was meant to be best then, and at the last break we'd surfed in El Salvador, there were often already a handful of surfers in the water before daybreak. After a few stretches I made my way down to the beach to be greeted by a picture perfect set up. Peaks rose, tipped and broke in perfect form as far as the eye could see across the pink glassy stretch of the ocean. As I headed to the waters edge I was thankful to notice another lone surfer making his way up toward me. He later told me it was pretty rare to have the place to ourselves as we did that morning. We surfed the perfect waves to ourselves for two hours or so until we were eventually joined by a handful of "late" risers. I had my fill of great waves and knew it was time to get out when one of the locals took off on a bomb in front of me, hesitated, fell and came up with his board in two pieces. Tide was getting too low, time to call it quits. I was hoping that my board might make it to at least Costa Rica.
Jane was able to set up her hammock right outside our front door overlooking the hostel lawns and after my surf we spent the rest of the day just hanging. I nipped back into the ocean at dusk just as a big storm rolled in and spun the wind offshore again but I was back in my hammock again by the time the light show started again.
By the next day the swell had dropped only a touch and I was feeling a lot more confident. That morning I was first in the water and scored a whole heap of great waves. Stoked and satisfied I was ready to hit the road again and head further south.
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