Robbie Murphy backpacking in Nicaragua

I first arrived in Nicaragua from its southern border with Costa Rica in the summer of 2024. My introduction to the country was a friendly one; I shared a taxi with some locals to Rivas, the nearby town. It was late, and I hadn’t organised anywhere to stay, but I’d been assured that the firemen in Rivas would let me stay with them.

They were all gentlemen bar none and had no issue with me rolling out my mat to crash on their floor for a few days. As a nice bonus they had the loveliest pair of dalmatians as pets – a mother and her pup – who gave me a nice wakeup call in the morning.

The next morning I took the ferry to Ometepe, a volcanic island so stunning that it would defy
description. Fortunately for us, we don’t need to come up with our own words, since Mark Twain
wrote about Ometepe on his travels from San Francisco to New York City. (At the time – before
the opening of the transcontinental railroad and the Panama canal – this part of Nicaragua was
the crossroads of the interoceanic route through the Americas.) On seeing Ometepe he wrote;
“Out of the midst of the beautiful Lake Nicaragua spring two magnificent pyramids, clad in the
softest and richest green, all decked with shadow and sunshine, whose summits pierce the
billowy clouds. They look so isolated from the world and its turmoil — so tranquil, so dreamy, so
steeped in slumber and eternal repose. What a home one might make among their shady
forests, their sunny slopes, their breezy dells, after he had grown weary of the toil, anxiety and
unrest of the bustling, driving world.” As serene an image this is, it still doesn’t quite live up to
the experience of laying eyes on it for the first time. I fell in love with the island; its people, its
culture and its tranquillity. I rented a bicycle and did a loop of the southern volcano, stopping
and chatting with locals along the way. One man kindly showed me some ancient pottery that he
found in his garden, dating back thousands of years to the island’s first inhabitants. I could’ve
stayed forever on Ometepe, but there was more of Nicaragua to see.

I had made some arrangements to start volunteering at a surf hostel near León, a beautiful
colonial town in the north west of the country. On my way there, I stayed with the local firemen
again, who were happy to have me, no questions asked. Also staying in the fire station were a
French couple, who’d hitchhiked their way across the Atlantic and spent the last four years on
the road in North America. They were full of great stories and the firemen were happy out to let
us all camp out in between the fire engines together. The next week or so I spent as a volunteer,
working behind the bar with the local staff, serving backpackers, mostly from Europe and North
America. We were treated to the traditional Nica breakfast everyday – fried plantain, rice and
eggs – and every afternoon we had a volleyball match with the guests. Unfortunately, we didn’t
get much surf in – there wasn’t much surf, and in any event it was unbelievably hot. The
volleyball was more than enough to compensate though.

After a week or two I moved on from the surf hostel for some hiking. Nicaragua, like most
countries in Central America, has heaps of volcanoes to hike up. I decided to connect a few of
them up in a multi-day hike, based on a few recommendations I’d gotten from backpackers in
León. So I caught a bus to Telica, the town at the base of the Telica volcano. It’s always very hot
in this part of Nicaragua and I really felt it hiking in the afternoon. The volcano is quite active,
and you wouldn’t need a volcanologist to tell you this: there is an enormous cloud of steam constantly billowing out from its crater. If you get close enough to the edge (but not too close) you can even see lava glowing in the depths below. I met a pair of French couples on holidays
in Nicaragua for a few weeks and we had some nice chats over the fire. In the morning we all
got up for one of the cleanest sunrises I’ve ever seen. We then parted ways; they went back
down to Telica, and I started heading for Cerro Negro to get in some volcano boarding! I made
my way to the town of Malpaisillo where I had a long lunch and chatted to the ladies serving me,
curious as they were about what I was doing in their seldom-visited town. After the midday sun
had passed I walked to the edge of town and stuck my thumb out looking for a lift to the
beginning of the Cerro Negro trail.

With some patience, and the help of some locals, I caught a lift in the back of someone’s pickup truck to the start of the trail. Hitchhiking in Nicaragua is very much part of the culture, which makes sense given that not everyone has their own car. So more often than not, when I ended up in the back of someone’s pickup, there were a few others in there with me. I loved this about Nicaragua – people help each other out without expecting anything in return. Sometimes you wouldn’t even speak a word to the driver, just a double knock where you wanted to get off and a salute. No recognition or money needed. Contrast this to neighbouring Costa Rica, where riding in the back is illegal, or Peru where money is usually
expected in exchange for a lift. Anyways, I made my way to the Cerro Negro information centre where I could rent a board and gear for volcano boarding, the major attraction for most backpackers in this part of Nicaragua. I was late in the evening but the lads working there were happy to let me camp just outside and
grab the board off them in the morning. So that morning, after I’d packed up the tent, I had a
brief hike to the top, where I changed into my gear and put on my brave face. It was pretty
daunting I can’t lie! I loved it though, and I was glad I’d rented the gear out myself because I got
to go again afterwards after getting the hang of it. I was all done and dusted with the volcano
boarding relatively early and got started on what would be a long and hot day hiking. Volcán
Hoyo had an equally impressive crater as Telica, and some sulphur vents spewing the
foul-smelling steam into the air. The views were incredible too — I could see the near shore
Lago Xolotlán, the lake on which the country’s capital Managua sits. From Hoyo, I descended
back down to civilisation, spotting loads of beautiful birds and reptiles along the way. I made it
back to León by nightfall and had the nicest shower of my life.

The morning after, my friend Kiki and I got a lift with a Canadian couple to Granada, Nicaragua’s
other famously beautiful colonial town. After setting myself up with the local firemen again,
myself and Kiki went for a walk through the town market to try some traditional Nicaraguan food

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My highlights were the nacatamal (which is actually local to Granada itself) and the buñuelos de
yuca – little balls of cassava flour and cheese with molasses on top. I got to know the street
vendor on a personal basis with the amount of times I went back. We had a lovely night out in
the tree house hostel a bit out of town that evening, before going our separate ways. I then
started heading back south towards Panama to catch the boat home! Crossing the border into
Costa Rica was a tough readjustment because of the insane cost of living there, especially
compared to affordable Nicaragua. Costa Rica is a beautiful country too with its own wonders,
but I’ll always miss Nicaragua. Over the course of a few weeks, Nicaragua cemented itself as one of my favourite spots on my trip and there is much left there that I would love to go back to one day, which I plan to do

Bio; I was born in Dublin in 1999 and spent my whole childhood in Clontarf. I
was always interested in maths and physics as a kid so decided to study Theoretical Physics in
Trinity College. After graduating in May 2021 I got a job as a data analyst in AIB. I worked there
for a year and half, and living at home I was able to save up a lot of money fast. Once I felt I had
enough, I decided it was time to pursue my other major interest: travel. So I handed in my notice
and in January 2023 I caught three planes from Dublin to Ushuaia, Argentina – “the end of the
world”, as the locals call it. From there I began a long overland journey up through South and
Central America. Over the course of a year and a half I made my way through 14 countries and
territories, hitchhiking, making friends and memories, learning Spanish, hiking, camping, and
learning so much about the other side of the earth. My trip culminated in my sailing across the
Atlantic over 4 weeks from Aruba to the Azores, the Portuguese Archipelago in the mid Atlantic.
As much as I would’ve loved to sail the last stretch, from there I flew home so as to not miss my
cousin’s wedding. It was lovely seeing family and friends after going so long without them, but
after summer I was ready to go again. And that’s where I am now; currently cycling through
Spain down to West Africa, but with one eye on my re-entry into the “real world”.