Nicaragua Story #6 — Rivas: Recovery Days & Slow Travel
A slow evening wandering around Rivas before heading back to my room for another quiet night.
Arriving in Rivas & Finally Slowing Down
After Ometepe, I was more than ready to leave.
The ferry ride back to the mainland was smooth, quiet, and honestly a relief. As the island slowly disappeared behind me, my thoughts were mostly:
Good riddance.
I know some people absolutely love Ometepe, but after spending nearly a week sick and mostly bedridden, I was mentally done with it. I needed a reset.
Rivas was my next stop.
Not because it was high on my Nicaragua bucket list or because people online kept telling me I had to go there.
Honestly, most people just pass through Rivas on the way somewhere else.
That was kind of the point.
I still wasn’t 100%, but for the first time in over a week, I actually wanted to explore again. I just knew I needed to take things slowly. The last thing I wanted was to push myself too hard and end up sick all over again.
Once I got off the ferry, I grabbed a taxi into town and checked into Hostel Julieta.
The room was extremely basic.
Single bed.
Shared bathroom.
Not much space.
No luxury whatsoever.
The place even had signs asking people not to leave bad reviews because the accommodation was “simple.”
Honestly?
I appreciated the honesty.
I paid around $20 USD for a private room, and after the week I had just survived on Ometepe, it felt perfectly fine to me.
At that point, I wasn’t looking for luxury resorts or infinity pools.
I just wanted privacy.
A quiet room.
Wi-Fi.
And somewhere I could breathe for a second without hearing jungle insects screaming outside my window all night.
Sometimes travel changes your standards very quickly.
After dropping off my backpack, I headed out to slowly wander around Rivas and see what the town had to offer.
I somehow forgot to photograph the actual hostel, but I did photograph the dog. Priorities.
Wandering Around Rivas
Rivas felt calm.
Not dead quiet.
Not abandoned.
Just… slower.
Most travellers only seem to stop here for a night before heading to San Juan del Sur, Ometepe, or the beaches along the coast. It felt more like a transportation hub than an actual tourist destination.
Which, honestly, was exactly what I needed.
I wandered through the center of town slowly, still trying to get my energy back. The plaza had locals sitting around talking while kids played near the church. There were a few Christmas decorations still up, including an inflatable snowman that looked very out of place in 30°C weather.
There’s something funny about seeing Christmas decorations while sweating through your shirt in Central America.
The church itself was beautiful though, especially with the dark clouds rolling in overhead. Everything felt calm. No party crowds. No backpacker chaos. No pressure to “do” anything.
And after the week I’d had, that felt perfect.
I found a small restaurant near the center and ordered food and a massive chocolate milkshake. At that point, I still wasn’t eating huge meals, but for the first time in days, food actually sounded good again.
That honestly felt like progress.
I sat there for a while just watching people come and go while trying to figure out my next move. My original backpacking plans had completely fallen apart after getting sick on Ometepe, so now I was mostly travelling day by day again.
Which, to be fair, is usually when my trips become the most memorable.
Before heading back to the hostel, I picked up a few groceries and a bottle of rum for my next destination: Popoyo.
The internet basically described it as:
“There’s nothing there.”
Perfect.
That was exactly what I wanted.
Sitting in the square, drinking a chocolate milkshake, and finally feeling a little more human again.
Recovery Mode
By the time evening rolled around, I was already back in my room for the night.
No nightlife.
No socializing.
No wandering around after dark.
Honestly, I was completely okay with that.
After everything that happened in Honduras and then getting sick on Ometepe, I had lost any interest in forcing myself to “experience the nightlife” just because I was travelling.
Instead, I grabbed some snacks, watched Netflix, and enjoyed having a private room for once.
It’s funny how quickly your priorities change while backpacking.
A week earlier, I had been staying in an off-grid jungle hostel with compost toilets and charging my electronics beside reception every night.
Now I was sitting alone in a simple room in Rivas feeling genuinely excited about decent Wi-Fi and uninterrupted sleep.
And honestly?
It felt amazing.
I think that’s what I liked most about Rivas.
There were no expectations.
Nobody was trying to sell it as the next hidden paradise or backpacker hotspot. It was just a slower transit city where people passed through on the way somewhere else.
But for me, it became the exact stop I needed.
A place to slow down, recover, and figure out whether I actually felt ready to continue travelling again.
For the first time in over a week, I finally felt like my body was catching up with me mentally.
Not fully recovered.
But enough to finally start feeling like myself again.
That excitement came back slowly.
Walking around town.
Buying groceries.
Planning my next destination.
Little things that suddenly felt normal again after spending days trapped in bed on Ometepe.
And my next destination already sounded exactly like the kind of place I wanted after all the chaos.
Popoyo.
A quiet beach town the internet described as having “nothing there.”
And after everything that happened on Ometepe, quiet suddenly sounded a lot more appealing than adventure.
Once the sun started setting, I slowly made my way back to the hostel for another quiet night in Rivas.
Leaving for Popoyo
The next morning, I packed up my backpack once again and got ready to leave Rivas.
And honestly?
For the first time in a while, I actually felt ready to keep travelling again.
Not full energy.
But functional.
Which, after Ometepe, felt like a huge improvement.
Rivas was never meant to be some major destination on my trip through Nicaragua. Most travellers probably spend as little time here as possible before moving on somewhere “better.”
But looking back, I’m really glad I stopped here.
I needed a slow day.
A quiet room.
A cheap meal.
A private space to watch Netflix and recover without feeling guilty for not constantly exploring something.
Travel doesn’t always need to be nonstop adventure.
Sometimes you need transition days.
Days where your body catches up with your brain.
Days where you sit in a quiet town eating a wrap and drinking a giant milkshake while figuring out your next move.
And honestly?
Those slower moments are sometimes the ones I remember most.
Before leaving, I grabbed my groceries, my backpack, and the bottle of rum I had bought the day before for Popoyo.
The internet kept describing Popoyo as remote, basic, and quiet.
No major nightlife.
No giant tourist attractions.
Not much around except beaches, surf, and nature.
Which honestly sounded like the right place to disappear for a while.
After crowded cities, jungle hostels, sickness, and nonstop moving around Central America, the idea of disappearing into a remote beach town for a while felt exactly like what I needed.
And for the first time in over a week…
I was actually looking forward to what came next.
Quiet nights, cheap rooms, good food, and finally feeling ready for the next chapter of Nicaragua.
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Nicaragua Travel Series
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 # 7 - Popoyo
