I had never been to Nicaragua and didn’t know what to expect.
What I found were lush green fields as far as the eye could see and brand-new immaculate roads that stretched for miles that gave an air of modern living (but there were clear signs of Nica’s rustic roots everywhere you looked). Eventually, as we neared the coast the asphalt gave way to raw mud tracks my taxi devoured unapologetically, the violent shimmy giving me an impromptu welcomed chiropractic adjustment after my 5-hour flight.
Then, without warning, we reached our sacred destination, the Hide and Seek resort in Popoyo, which stuck out like a Brit in Bali. After a quick celebration with my driver, I sublimated into the fully immersive world of Hide and Seek. With arched white stucco bounding travertine marble with perfectly manicured palms lining the way, this exceptionally designed resort is the lovechild of Emelia and Daniel, two amazing Aussies who can be seen enjoying the grounds with the patrons. This is a paradise within a paradise, where every angle subdues you into a new level of serenity with its French Moroccan vibes.
The rooms are perfect blank canvases to paint your ultimate masterpiece of relaxation. Everything here is wonderfully muted and amorphous. With natural materials and soft linens that give luxury while keeping it very simple. The bath is a work of art, a cathedral of natural light and fine product to wash away even the most stubborn thoughts of your daily grind. There is a TV, but I couldn’t tell you if it worked, I was too enthralled with the view from my glass wall, a live screensaver of paradise. Throw in the most perfect complimentary fresh squeezed margarita, and you are ready to never leave.
And in fact, Hide and Seek makes it a bit too easy. They offer yoga with their resident instructor each morning out on the grounds for those seeking their center. They don’t have a gym so you can’t feel guilty about not working out, or you can do the Serrini special and lift furniture while drinking wine. Afterwards, you can hit up the spa to enjoy the voluminous Finnish sauna and complete the cycle with a full-scale cold plunge guaranteed to make you feel like a newborn baby. Of course, a quick glass of wine in the shower is necessary before a bite to eat.
Barefoot breakfast, lunch and dinner happen at the Oasis, which remains open throughout the day and evening, and besides serving up high-speed internet in a lovely setting, they offer some truly amazing bites. The food here does not need to be this good or this diverse. From all things fresh fruit to any fresh salad or savory dish from chicken parm to authentic red coconut curry, the quality is beyond good. And did I mention the wine? There is no reason I should be drinking excellent pinot from California deep in the jungle of Nicaragua, but I am. And when I needed something perhaps a little more volatile, the fellas behind the bar had me covered with a bit of boozy sunshine in a tall glass.
When not swimming in red wine, I found myself swimming in the pool, which is the centerpiece of the resort. I’m a big fan of off-season travel when the weather is brackish, but the destinations are all mine. Even with Nica’s warm and sporadic rainfall, the pool is a lil’ slice of heaven on earth, which only gets better with another bottle of Pinot Noir. It’s rare and wonderful to find a place whose entire focus allows you to hang out with yourself and get to know yourself a little better.
But then you feel obligated to leave heaven and see celestial suburbia. The owners have a wicked land cruiser that can take you anywhere quite literally, or better yet, you take one of the moto bikes and explore on your own. Soon the pavement bleeds into cocoa-colored mud as you tear through backtracks in your slides, letting warm puddles of jungle water bathe your feet. Before you know it, you’re at the reason everyone comes to Popoyo, the beach.
Popoyo is the beach and there is a lot of it. Miles and miles of powdery sand caressing an infinite shoreline of bathtub-warm water. Along the coast here you will find plenty of little places to explore, like the Happy Coconut, which boasts a half-pipe skate ramp in questionable condition and cold local beer that comes with a mandatory oceanfront view.
Hopping back on my hog, I head way north to El Astillero, a local fishing village. Here, there are no gringos, surf shops, or work cafes with Wi-Fi. Just colorful fishing boats and swarms of children playing an impromptu game of soccer with driftwood for goalposts. Local or foreign, one thing is for sure, everyone here enjoys the beach to the max.
Cruising back down to Popoyo, I stopped off at Kooks Cafe on the recommendation of a nice couple I met on the street. Kooks could be on Abbot Kinney in Venice Beach if not for the lack of glass on the windows, with its kitschy little local artisan shop and vagrant love of dogs (and their owners). It’s a wonderful mix of mosquito coast and Manhattan here, where you can get a very proper flat white, along with something called a Barbie which is like drinking an EDM party. Then there’s the Shakshuka with its farm-fresh organic eggs that are so good you need extra homemade bread to slop up the remnants.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the reason all this exists. The surf. The surf here is world-class. Miles of breaks, and even on the mushiest days, it still tickles the fancy. Coming from Socal, where I’ve seen guys get shanked at El Porto because they’re crowding the locs, it was beautiful to watch dozens of surfers spread across the sea with room to spare. The surf here is for everyone, and while it can be unruly at times, the brave welcome the risk to find that perfect wave.
As the gray crept in with the evening (as it does in the rainy season), I decided to head back. Stopping for gas, I noticed that a bottle of rum was about 5 USD, a bargain too generous to pass up, and with a makeshift hobo bindle, I made my way back to my local beach. There are only a few places on earth I would bother writing about these days with such fondness, running the risk that it might cause too many to come and suck the magic out, but this little remote corner of the world has the space and love for it, and with a full bottle of rum by your side, you have the time to sit and contemplate what it means to get tipsy in paradise before others arrive to share the joy.
