I realise I'm writing this for me, but apologies for the general shonkiness of the presentation. This site is rubbish, but I can't be bothered changing again.

Anyway, I'm in Granada, Nicaragua, as the map may show. I arrived quite late at night to my posh hotel (I'd always planned colonial comfort around this point). 2145 meant the town looked shut and when I was given a free cocktail voucher I was a happy soul. Until it turned out that the bar closed at 2200. Still, there had to be a bar or restaurant open, yes? Apparently not as I wandered the dark and possibly mean streets. I was on the verge of giving up and heading to my stupendously large room when I heard a noise that sounded like company. And what company!

Not 10 minutes from the hotel was a whole town full of people enjoying themselves. There was so much going on. Mad music and mad women dancing to it. Two kids fighting over a cardboard box. Many trumpets and many dogs. And a little boy trying to sell me a hammock. And beer. Cheap, cool beer. Sold to me, on the first occasion, from the least Irish Irish Pub in the world. This really is a grand place, provided I can stay sober.

As for the title, the church, so I've been told, insists on many fireworks. There is a LOT of old women in rocking chairs. And gay men - in a continent that is meant to be unsure about this sort of thing. All very good. Must be time for me to get mugged!

A quick note on the heat. It's tolerable most of the time and lovely early morning and evenings, but the midday hours? Hot. Theroux nails it while in Guatemala on a hot train:

"The passengers, prostrate in the heat, lay collapsed on the seats, their mouths open, as if they had all been gunned down or gassed."

When it hits the heights, that's what it's like. Perfectly possible to adjust, of course, but just how it is.

Also, there's the poverty. The grinding, heat oppressed poverty.

Went for a wander down by the lake - takes about half an hour. There were no other vistors down there, although my bet is that in 10 years time it'll be a regular little stroll. In fact, there is a run down hotel that you might want to buy now - and then wait.

I came back up a different street to vary the view. It's hot and it's poor and there's no relief. Brief glimpses inside the hovels contrast horribly with the fun uptown and this area is clearly the nursey for the hawkers that add some part of the gaiety to the tourist friendly vista less than 500m away. Back to Theroux:

"To see a country's poverty is not to see into its heart, but it's very hard to look beyond such pitiable things."

Later on I was offered 'company, massage, sex' while rich kids gave the odd unwanted scraps off their plates to children who would have been a couple of years above them in school.