Popoyo: Doing Absolutely Nothing
Sunsets, quiet beaches, new friends, and slowing down—my time in Popoyo was exactly the reset I needed after Ometepe.
Leaving the Crowds Behind
After a quiet day recovering in Rivas, it was finally time to move on.
My next destination was Popoyo.
If you search for the best places to visit in Nicaragua, Popoyo isn't usually at the top of the list. It's known mostly as a surf town—a long stretch of coastline with a handful of hostels, a few restaurants, and not much else. More than once, I read people describing it as a place where "there's nothing to do."
Perfect.
After everything I'd been through on Ometepe, "nothing" sounded exactly like what I needed.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn't chasing volcanoes, waterfalls, or another packed itinerary. I just wanted somewhere quiet. Somewhere I could sit by the ocean, enjoy the sunshine, and finally start feeling like myself again.
Of course, there was one small problem.
Getting there.
When I arrived at the bus station in Rivas, several taxi drivers insisted there wasn't a bus to Popoyo that day and that my only option was to hire a taxi for around $25 USD. After spending nearly three weeks travelling through Nicaragua, that wasn't exactly the news I wanted to hear. I was travelling on a backpacker's budget, and twenty-five dollars for one ride was money I'd much rather spend on accommodation, food, or my next adventure.
Thankfully, I decided to trust my research instead of the taxi drivers.
After asking around and waiting for a while, I eventually found the bus I had read about online. It wasn't the easiest route to figure out, but it was running that day, and climbing aboard felt like a small victory.
As the bus rolled away from Rivas, I had no idea what Popoyo would be like.
All I knew was that everyone kept saying there was nothing there.
And somehow, that was exactly what I was looking for.
My first glimpse of Popoyo—a quiet stretch of coastline that turned out to be exactly what I needed after Ometepe.
Finding My Way to Popoyo
The bus ride itself was fairly uneventful.
As usual, I had my earbuds in, listening to music while another part of Nicaragua rolled past my window. After almost three weeks in the country, I'd grown to love these local bus rides. They weren't glamorous, but they always felt like part of the adventure.
Then we turned off the main highway.
The smooth pavement disappeared almost instantly, replaced by a rough gravel road that bounced the bus in every direction. Every bump seemed to take us farther away from towns, traffic, and tourists.
I couldn't help but smile.
This was exactly the kind of place I loved finding.
When I finally arrived in Popoyo, there wasn't much there.
No busy streets.
No souvenir shops.
No rows of restaurants.
Just a handful of hostels, the sound of the ocean, and a feeling that life moved at a completely different pace.
I checked into my hostel and immediately discovered I'd been given the lower bunk.
After weeks of climbing into top bunks, that honestly felt like winning the lottery.
The room was almost empty, which suited me just fine.
After dropping off my giant blue backpack, I changed into my bathing suit, grabbed my bottle of rum, and wandered outside.
I wasn't looking for excitement.
I wasn't trying to tick another attraction off my list.
I simply wanted to find a lounge chair, enjoy the sunshine, and let myself do absolutely nothing for a while.
Sometimes that's exactly what travel should be.
I had absolutely no plans.
And that sounded perfect.
Exactly what I came to Popoyo for—a rum and coke, an ocean sunset, and absolutely nowhere else to be.
Doing Absolutely Nothing
I made my way over to one of the lounge chairs overlooking the beach, poured myself a rum and Coke, and settled in for the afternoon.
As I sat down, I noticed a car already buried in the sand.
It wasn't just a little stuck either.
It was properly stuck.
I remember smiling to myself because I'd done almost the exact same thing back home in Canada. Luckily, we'd managed to find someone with a truck to pull us out.
But this was the middle of nowhere in Nicaragua.
I couldn't help wondering how they were going to get themselves out of this one.
With nowhere else to be, I sat back with my drink and watched the whole thing unfold.
They dug around the tyres.
They pushed.
They rocked the car backwards and forwards.
At one point another car tried to help, but I remember thinking, That little car doesn't have enough power to pull it out.
It became the afternoon's entertainment.
Normally, I probably would've watched for a few minutes before carrying on with my day.
But in Popoyo...
I didn't have anywhere else to be.
So I stayed exactly where I was.
Every now and then I'd look out at the ocean before turning my attention back to the rescue attempt.
Hour after hour, they kept trying different ideas.
Eventually...
Success.
The car slowly climbed out of the sand and everyone cheered before driving away.
I probably should have applauded too.
With the excitement over, I went back to doing exactly what I'd come to Popoyo to do.
Absolutely nothing.
I sat there watching the waves roll in, sipping my rum and Coke while the afternoon slowly turned into evening.
As the sun began to set over the Pacific Ocean, I remember thinking how strange it was that one of my favourite afternoons in Nicaragua had been spent doing almost nothing at all.
And honestly?
I wouldn't have changed a thing.
My unexpected afternoon entertainment—watching a car slowly get rescued after getting stuck in the sand on Popoyo Beach.
An Endless Beach
The next morning, I woke up feeling even better.
Not 100%.
But well enough that I finally felt like doing something.
After spending some time relaxing in the sun, I wandered down to the water for a swim. The Pacific felt amazing after sitting in the heat, and I spent a while just floating around before drying off and deciding to go for a walk.
I figured I'd head left along the beach and see where it took me.
I had absolutely no destination in mind.
I was just curious.
One of the things that surprised me most about Popoyo was how empty the beach felt. I walked for what must have been close to an hour, and it just kept going.
No crowds.
No rows of beach umbrellas.
No loud beach clubs.
Just sand, waves, and the occasional surfer in the distance.
It felt like I had the place almost entirely to myself.
Eventually, I came across a rocky outcrop stretching into the ocean.
It seemed like the perfect excuse to stop for a few photos.
Like most solo travellers, I spent a few minutes balancing my phone, running back into position before the timer went off, then checking the photo to see if I'd actually made it into the frame.
Some worked.
Some definitely didn't.
But that's all part of travelling by yourself.
As I kept walking, I spotted another hostel sitting higher up overlooking the beach.
It looked peaceful, and for a brief moment I wondered what it would be like staying there instead.
Then again, I was perfectly happy where I was.
On the walk back, I started doing what I normally do when nobody's around.
Acting like an idiot.
I found a tree that looked climbable, so naturally I climbed it for a photo.
A little further along, I pretended to surf on the wet sand, even though I have absolutely no surfing ability whatsoever.
It's one of the things I love about solo travel.
Nobody's there to judge you.
If you want to take ridiculous photos, you can.
If you want to spend an hour walking a beach with nobody else around, you can.
And if you want to stop every five minutes just to listen to the waves...
Nobody's going to rush you.
By the time I made it back to the hostel, I'd spent most of the day doing almost nothing.
And somehow...
It had been one of the most enjoyable days I'd had in Nicaragua.
Exploring the rocky coastline near Popoyo with nothing but time, sunshine, and a self-timer.
Backpacker Evenings
That evening, I wandered into the hostel kitchen to make myself some dinner.
Like most hostel kitchens, it didn't take long before someone asked where I was from. Another person joined the conversation, then another, and before I knew it, a small group of us were swapping travel stories while everyone cooked their dinner.
It's one of the things I love most about staying in hostels.
You don't have to know anyone.
You simply say hello, and within minutes you're talking as if you've known each other for days.
As the sun started to set, we all wandered down to the beach together to finish our conversations.
The group mentioned they were planning to head out fishing first thing the next morning and asked if I wanted to come along.
I politely declined.
After everything that had happened on Ometepe, sleeping in sounded far more appealing than getting up early to go fishing.
Instead, I wished them good luck and told them I'd see how successful they'd been when they got back.
The next morning, they headed off with their fishing rods while I stayed behind.
I wasn't about to complain.
I found my usual lounge chair, enjoyed the sunshine, and relaxed while they spent the morning out on the water.
Around lunchtime, they returned.
Somehow…
Success.
They'd managed to catch one decent-sized fish, and before long everyone was gathered around cleaning it, seasoning it, and getting the barbecue ready.
I have to admit, it was pretty cool watching the whole process.
From catching the fish that morning...
...to cooking it on the beach a few hours later.
It doesn't get much fresher than that.
Unfortunately for them, I don't actually like fish.
So, while everyone else enjoyed the meal they'd worked for all morning, I mostly enjoyed the conversation instead.
Honestly, I didn't mind one bit.
The afternoon drifted by the way good hostel afternoons usually do.
A few drinks.
Travel stories.
Lots of laughter.
People talking about where they'd been and where they were heading next.
Before we knew it, the sun was starting to drop again, so we wandered the whole five-minute walk back to the hostel.
Someone suggested beer pong.
I honestly can't remember who won, but if memory serves me right, I only lost by one cup.
Not bad.
As the night went on, we decided we were probably making a little too much noise for everyone trying to sleep, so we grabbed our drinks and headed back down to the beach.
We swapped beer pong for Never Have I Ever, and that's when the travel stories really started coming out.
The Scottish guy and I quickly realised we'd managed to collect far more ridiculous stories than everyone else.
I guess that's what happens after years of backpacking.
Before any of us realised it, it was well after midnight.
Considering we were all planning to leave the next morning...
...it probably wasn't our smartest decision.
The backpackers' catch of the day before it hit the barbecue—paired with plenty of cold beers and good company.
One More Day
The plan had been simple.
Pack my backpack.
Catch the bus.
Head to San Juan del Sur.
Instead...
I woke up feeling absolutely terrible.
Somehow, everyone else managed to pack their bags, check out, and say goodbye while I was lying in my lower bunk wondering if I'd ever become a functioning human again.
I remember one of them handing me a farewell beer before they left.
Naturally...
I drank it.
Probably not my smartest decision.
Once they disappeared down the road, the hostel suddenly became incredibly quiet again.
Just like that, I had Popoyo almost to myself.
There was no way I was getting on a bus that day.
Fortunately, I hadn't booked anything in San Juan del Sur yet, so staying one more night was an easy decision.
Honestly, I didn't mind at all.
I'd originally planned to spend a couple of relaxing days in Popoyo before moving on.
Instead, I got one more.
And that's exactly what I needed.
I spent the rest of the day doing very little.
I lounged in the sun.
Listened to the waves.
Recovered from the night before.
And finally sorted out my plans for the rest of Nicaragua and my upcoming trip into Costa Rica.
One thing I knew for certain was that I wanted to time my visit to San Juan del Sur around Sunday Funday.
The following morning, I packed up my giant blue backpack once again and made my way to the bus stop.
Popoyo had been exactly what everyone said it was.
Quiet.
Simple.
A place where there wasn't much to do.
But somehow...
It became one of my favourite stops in Nicaragua.
Sometimes the places with the fewest attractions end up giving you exactly what you need.
For me, Popoyo wasn't about checking sights off a list.
It was about slowing down.
Recovering.
Meeting a few good people.
And remembering that not every great travel memory has to involve doing something extraordinary.
With my backpack on once again, it was finally time to head somewhere completely different.
The quiet beaches and empty coastline of Popoyo were behind me.
Next stop?
San Juan del Sur.
The backpacker party town everyone had been telling me about for weeks.
And yes...
I was finally about to find out if Sunday Funday really lived up to the hype.
Popoyo gave me exactly what I didn't know I needed—quiet days, new friends, beach sunsets, and a chance to slow down before the adventure continued.
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Keep Exploring Nicaragua & Other Stories
Nicaragua: Travel Guide and Tips
Nicaragua #1 - León: Volcano Surfing & Hitting a Wall
Nicaragua #2 - Christmas in Las Peñitas: Beach Days, Bonfires & Backpacker Chaos
Nicaragua #3 - Managua: I Came Here Just to Watch a Movie
Nicaragua #4 - Granada: The Place Everyone Tells You to Go
Nicaragua #5 - Ometepe, Nicaragua: The Island Where Everything Stopped
Nicaragua # 6 - Rivas: Recovery Days & Slow Travel
