Playas Del Coco

Playas del Coco surprises us. Actually, we were just looking for a suitable stretch of coastline where the wind comes sideshore. We find a nice little village in a beautiful bay on the Pacific. Our hotel with a huge room is right on the beach, and there’s already a bit of wind blowing on the beach when we arrive. The bars and restaurants are not too crowded and the village is a pleasantly Rastafarian-free zone.

The next morning, the wind doesn’t really get going. We drive a few kilometres by car to the more north-facing, secluded Playa Panama.

After two hours of waiting, the wind suddenly picks up. The looks on the villagers’ faces tell us that we have found our magic spot: no one has ever kitesurfed here before.

Mel rips the sea in laminar 18 knots, I put the RipStop nylon of my 13er through its paces. It works. The branch of the next tree only tears the cloth open by 20 cm during the idiot launch. In the evening, we need disinfectant in a new, mouldy hostel. We both tear our feet bloody. The raccoons in the garden are amused.

I would have to order a replacement for the broken display of my laptop in Germany and have it installed in Nicaragua. It would take three weeks and cost just under €500. Not really an option. The hostel owner is Italian. So is the owner of the local computer shop. After a brief chat, I get 10% on a small external monitor and after a week of blackout I’m up and running again.

After 10 days, I return the most expensive hire car ever in Liberia. The journey from Bahia Salinas along the well-developed Panamericana takes an hour and a half. The return journey with several full buses and hitchhiker-unwilling tourist jeeps takes almost four. There are more completely crushed car wrecks in the scrap yards on both sides of the Panamericana than there are flies on a windscreen after a night rally through Sweden.