Any British girl will know all to well about cat-calling and will be familiar with the wolf whistles and shouts of "Oi luv! Nice arse/legs/tits!" and so on when walking past a building site in good old Blighty, but Granada has managed to even shock this British cat-calling veteran and has taken it to the next level. Unlike our shy British lads who shout from a far, the Nicaraguan men have no qualms in doing it centimetres away from your face and will even go out of their way to walk or cycle up to you just to do it! Instead of crass comments about your legs or chest, these men are more into the romantic and wooing cat-calling. "Muy bonita!" (very beautiful) "guapa" (good looking) and even "te amor" are verbally thrown at any woman under the age of 100. Even the local bobbies, who I nodded and greeted with a 'Buenas dias', instead of replying with a English type of nod and bend to the knees with a possible "buenas", they replied with a tirade of "mi amor"s and poetic thoughts from his corazon. All of this adds to Granda's charm. Walking around the town yesterday morning I instantly fell in love with the place. It's bright multi-coloured 17th century Spanish colonial buildings, it's cobbled streets, the fact it's on a massive lake that has a tiny island in the middle with a volcano which has ferrys commute to twice a week (I unfortunately didn't get the chance to see this as I was there on the wrong day), is lined with palm trees along the lake and has one of the best waffle houses I have ever had the pleasure of eating at (and indulging in heavily) all made me swoon. The horse drawn carriages and the fact it had a bar called 'Imagine' with pictures and photos of John Lennon everywhere was just the icing on the cake. Subconsciously whilst walking around the town trying to get myself lost I stumbled across two prospective volunteer projects for Travel to Teach and found myself popping in, shaking hands with Directors of the Schools and conversing about setting up a volunteer program there with them. I got a little swept away with the idea and even began to think of moving there myself to the gorgeous town that reminded me somewhat of home (by home I refer to where I am presently living in Oaxaca, not Bicester, Coventry or Birmingham), until I had to get up at silly o'clock this morning to catch a taxi to Nicaragua's capital, Managua, to then catch the Ticabus onto El Salvador. I didn't stay in Managua and refused to point blank when the Ticabus staff in Granada explained that their bus services no longer connected from Granada onwards northbound. I had only heard horror stories of Managua, of lone travelers being mugged at gun point for a few quid but it was when David's (I.T. Manager I went to visit in Costa Rica) mate, who is the size of a house, explained that he had been to Managua and even he didn't feel safe that I decided there was no chance in hell I was staying there on my tod. When I arrived this morning I knew why and was glad that I had made the choice to stay in Granada. I instantly felt stupid for letting idyllic dreams of Nicaragua run away with me. The capital is extremely poor and it is there that we should have volunteer programs, but unfortunately I fear that it would be too dangerous for any experienced traveler to walk around on a night, let alone some 18year who has never been out of their State before, let alone their country. Anyway, we'll have to see...

I am now in El Salvador and arrived safely at 4pm after only 13 hours of traveling by bus and taxi through Honduras. I was met at the bus station in San Salvador by the lovely Joaquin, our coordinator here who has been a fantastic host and has put me up at his Mum and Dad's place. Tomorrow we are to get up (well in a few hours time actually) to head to Meanguera Island to see the turtle conservation project there and to have 'the survivors experience' (or so I've been told). This will apparently consist of camping and sleeping in hammocks under the (hopefully) clear night sky and probably be eaten alive by mosquitos, eating lots of fresh fish from the ocean and drinking lots of coconut milk mixed with Vodka. It's a hard life sometimes... At this rate we'll have to see if I ever get back or decide to come back to mainland. Wish me luck!

Love and hugs to you all. xxx