I think that some poeple may be reading our blog and thinking: “Maybe I want a Loompa Loompa,” or “Maybe I want a trained squirrel.”

Now I’m not saying that all our friends go running around like Veruca Salt or undertake San Diego tennis lessons all the time; but it’s easy to imagine someone looking at this picture of Jen holding the sunset (no Photoshop needed — those are all Jen’s natural curves!) and then looking out their window at the snow drifts, and then wishing they were here.
But do they really wish they were here, or, in attempting to gain some respite from winter, would they find all this Nicaragua stuff is the equivalent of a bad nut (or a bad egg, if you’ve only seen the movie)?
Let’s find out. Here is a list of things that make our trip to Rancho Esperanza seem like the greatest beach vacation of our lives:

Perfect climate — Will it rain tomorrow? “It hasn’t rained here in three months,” says Ross, who is kind of like the camp counselor here. Every day since we’ve been at el Rancho has been sunny and virtually cloudless. Even in Masaya and Leon, it was almost all sun all the time. It’s hot, but that’s what you want at the beach. There’s no humidity and very few mosquitos. And it won’t rain again here until winter, which for this place begins in April or May — some time after we leave, anyway.
Perfect beaches — Well, near perfect. The sand is soft (and very hot during the afternoon) and not rocky, but there is a lot of plastic stuff tumbling about in the breeze. Sunday also seems to be the day to burn your trash in the community surrounding the Rancho. But in general, it is a beautiful beach with lots of space to walk around and very few people getting in the way. To the north, towards El Salvador, you can see distant mountains, which I think are still in Nicaragua. There are also cool shells, but we’re not experts like my parents, so I don’t know exactly how cool they are.

Perfect water — The water temperature has to be in the high 80s. There’s no acclimation process needed for entry. Even Jen, who sometimes takes more than ten mintues to get herself fully submerged in the ocean, just walks right in here. The waves are strong but not threatening. There is no undertow. The sea floor is flat, smooth and gradual. We’ve seen no jellyfish or algae blooms, or seaweed of any kind, for that matter. No toe nipping crabs.

It’s pretty cheap — I don’t know what the rooms cost, but it’s not terribly high given we can hear the ocean from our room when the roosters are resting (more roosters, I know!). The cooks will make you a peanut butter sandwich for $1. A big plate of gallo pinto (beans and rice) costs the same, and it’s terrific. Bottles of soda and cans of juice are 90 cents each. A litre bottle of cold beer big enough for Jen and me to share is $2.50 For that same price you can get five choco-bananas. The only thing that seems relatively expensive here are the breakfast items. Anything involving bagels reaches into the $4.50 range, but you get a big plate of fruit with it.

Plus, breakfast is available all day. Such an offer cannot be beaten.
You don’t have to go anywhere — There are several really cool-sounding activities available here, including surf lessons and horseback riding on the beach (both of which we have tried here) and they all come to us. The horses picked us up on the beach . The surfing teacher gave the girls lessons right at our complex. Actually, the surfing teacher is Ross the camp counselor. Zoe and Nadia had a great time with him today. The rest of us have our lessons tomorrow. (It should be noted that the lessons are cheap, too. An hour-long one-on-one lesson costs $10.) Also on our to-do list is a coconut tree-climbing class and a kayak tour of the mangrove estuary. We might have to walk to get to those. Although this doesn’t appear to be a highly developed area, we’re told there is a place that sells fried chicken a few doors down, and we passed a pizza place on our way in (though so far, the food they serve here has been excellent, inexpensive and easy to get our hands on).

Sunsets over the ocean — We have seen three tremendous sunsets so far here (Zoe and I saw this evening’s while we were in the water practicing her surfing skills) and there’s every reason to believe the next two will be just as good.
Ready to book your trip yet? Here are a few of the downsides that may make you decided to stay home and do a jigsaw puzzle of a Polynesian scene instead.
It’s tough to get here — We were fortunately able to meander our way to these parts. The drive from Leon was less than two hours. People who came here straight from Managua said it took them four hours and a few bus transfers. If you have the time, like we do, it’s best to make your way here in stages. Leon was a nice stopover. Also, there are not a lot of things to do in the area once you get here. There is a volcano to hike, but there are no notable cities. (Apologies to the residents of the city of Chinandega )
The atmosphere isn’t totally family friendly — There is a pleasant goofiness to how the Rancho is set up. If you’ve been the the Fabulous Umbrella Factory in Charlestown, RI, you might recognize the hippie vibe these two places share. But the clientelle is decidedly younger. One guy visiting from Colorado seems to me to be in his late teens, though I am looking though the fog of age. This might not have effected us as much had we not spent much of the last three weeks at the Mariposa School, which didn’t have a lot more kids as guests while we were there, but it did have a guest community that was decidedly more interested in us and our kids. A few people have talked to us here, but mostly we’re ignored. Except by Ross, who has been saying nice things about Zoe and Nadia all evening long. While we’re comparing it to the Mariposa School, we should say that the organizational setup is different. At the Mariposa, they scheduled excursions and you signed up for them if you wanted to go. Here you have to request the activities, and negociate the timing of them. There are benefits to this latter system (just ask the poor Mariposa students who didn’t get to hike the Volcan Masaya), but Jen and I found it less stressful having it put up on the board all laid out for us.

Internet access is limited and not free — That is why our blogging is not as consistent as it had been. As I’ve been writing, Jen has taken two trips over to the one computer on the compound that is connected to the Internet. Both times someone else was using it.
Finally, and this may be the deal breaker for you Veruca, there are neither flush toilets nor hot showers — Remember the hippie vibe thing I was talking about? It goes pretty deep. Actually, the composting toilets are good for the environment and are probably necessary here because of the scarcity of water. Also they don’t smell and you can throw your toilet paper in them (which you can’t do in many of the flush toilets around here). The showers haven’t been a big deal at all. The air is pretty warm here and the water that comes out is room-temperature. Showering has not been unpleasant, which is good because after a day in the ocean, it is necessary to rinse off pretty well.

So there you have it. Do you value flush toilets over predictable sun and warm, comfortable surf? Does ease of access trump a low bar tab?
Whatever you decide, I hope you find your oasis from the snow drifts. And if you decide to stay with winter, I hope our blog is giving you a warming glimpse of the summer to come. Short of that, have your Loompa Loompa bring you some hot chocolate and set to work on that Polynesian puzzle.