When planning my trip to Nicaragua, car transport to Ometepe is one particular hitch kept gnawing at me: how the hell was I going to get my car from the Port of San Jorge to one of the ports on Ometepe? The root of this anxiety was simple—I didn’t speak Spanish. Navigating this process felt like trying to decipher an ancient manuscript. And then there’s the kicker: you need to book your vehicle spot at least 24 hours in advance. The ferry’s website? Utterly useless. No interactivity, no communication channels, just a dead end.

Booking Your Vehicle Spot

So, step one: download WhatsApp. This is the lifeline for everyone in Central and South America. It’s your virtual passport, your line of communication. Now, let me introduce you to a guy who will become your savior in this logistical nightmare. His name is Ivan. For a $10 USD tip, Ivan will take care of everything. Best money I’ve ever spent on a fixer. He’s a Nica—a term locals use for Nicaraguans. Make sure to call him 24 hours ahead and say the Traveling American gave you his number. Tell him you need reservations to Ometepe and back to San Jorge. Exact times? Forget it. He’ll ask for a window and work his magic. Ivan is going to call you at least three times a day after you have made it off the ferry just to check on you. You can find the time each ferry leaves its designated port here.

Update:

Guys, If you are not willing to tip him the $10 USD, please don’t message him. People are messaging him but not leaving him a tip. Yes, he works for the company, but what he does for you is above and beyond what is expected. He is doing all of this for the additional $10 USD tip. I am disappointed in how many people use this article to help them, but not willing to help the man that makes this extended service possible.

Loading Your Car

Here’s the drill: three steps to pay for the ferry. You will drive right to the gate of the port entrance, located here. First, pay the gateman $1 USD when you pull up. Why? Who knows, just do it. Think of it as an insurance policy. If you contacted Ivan 24 hours in advance then he will be there to guide you. He’ll walk you to the first of three stops. The ferry office to pay them, then to the port authority, and finally to the tax collector. Yes, three different places, scattered around the port. After this, line up your vehicle no later than 30 minutes before departure if you are late then you will lose your spot. When it’s your turn to load, you’ll have to back your car onto the ferry. All passengers must exit the vehicle. It’s an intimidating process. A boatman will yell directions in Spanish while you maneuver your car onto ramps that seem way too big for your vehicle. He’ll park you so close to the wall you’ll have to crawl over the seat. These guys know how to pack a boat to the last inch.

IVAN (FERRY FIXER) | WHAT’SAPP NUMBER | 505-8457-6258

Tips for the Ferry: Beer and Precision Timing

Be smart. When you turn left to enter the main town, there is a gas station at the intersection located here Stock up on ice, beer, and bottles of water. Keep an ice chest full of Victoria beer and local rum at all times. The trip takes 50 minutes, and while there’s beer for sale on the ferry, it’s cheaper to bring your own. You can stand on the back deck with the cars, sit on the bottom floor with church-like pews, or go up top to similar seating. I chose to stand on the front of the boat and soak it all in. Ten minutes before arrival, be by your car, ready to go. This is a precision operation, and everyone’s counting on you. If you mess up, they’ll let you know quickly. Get in your car, and they’ll guide you off the ferry.

Final Thoughts

This experience, despite its hurdles, was one of the most memorable parts of my journey. The mix of anticipation, slight panic, and sheer joy of seeing Ometepe from the water, with a cold Victoria beer in hand, made it an adventure worth every nerve-wracking moment.

Watching the island’s twin volcanic peaks grow larger from the lake, I felt a profound sense of accomplishment. The ferry ride, with all its bumps and jitters, had brought me to this magical place. This journey reminded me that the best adventures often come with a touch of uncertainty and a generous dose of excitement.

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Here we are! Where, you might ask? Funny you should ask because we’ve been driving for miles in this two-person mini hatchback, giving us everything it’s got for the last few days. We’re on a mission Finding the Rock Carving Hermit of Nicaragua, Alberto Gutiérrez. His name is known across the Tisey Estanzuela Natural Reserve, south of the town of Estelí. Known for its stunning mountainous terrain and home to some of the best cigars in the world, I start to wonder: Is it really worth this trek to search for a man I may never find?

The Allure of the Hermit

Yes, it is. Finding the Rock Carving Hermit of Nicaragua isn’t just about locating a person; it’s about understanding a unique story. Alberto received a divine message to start carving and not stop until told otherwise. This journey to find him was just one part of a five-part exploration across Nicaragua. His story captivated me so deeply that I flew from the United States just for this quest. With no clear directions to guide us, only scattered online clues and whispers from those who’ve encountered him, our goal of finding the Rock Carving Hermit of Nicaragua seemed both thrilling and daunting.

Navigating Nicaragua’s Rugged Terrain

Navigating through Nicaragua’s breathtaking landscapes, each bump and turn on the road feels like a step back in time. The anticipation builds as the mountains grow taller and the roads rougher. It’s a place where the modern world fades away, replaced by the timeless rhythm of nature and whispers of history. As we approach Tisey Reserve, the path to finding the Rock Carving Hermit of Nicaragua becomes as elusive as the man himself. Hidden among lush greenery and rugged terrain, this journey requires patience, perseverance, and a touch of faith. (Click the map to fully expand it)

Finding a Comfortable Base

Before you dive headfirst into the quest of finding the Rock Carving Hermit of Nicaragua, you’ll need a place to crash. We chose an Airbnb called Casa Luna on a road marked “NM-45” on Google Maps, near coordinates 12.985833, -86.337694. This place isn’t about luxury—it’s about the views. Walk out the back door into a garden bursting with bananas, mangoes, and avocados. Navigate through this verdant wonderland, and you’ll find a staircase leading to a deck with a panoramic view of the valley and surrounding mountains. Kick back in the hammock and soak in the sunset because tomorrow, the real adventure begins. You can check out my TikTok on this amazing back yard. While you are here, just down the road is the restaurant called El Ranchon de Papito. You have to eat here and make sure order a bottle of local rum, Flor de Cana for the table.

Preparing for the Journey

We woke up at the crack of dawn and started our 20-minute drive to the hermit’s rumored location. Set your Google Maps to “Entrada A Finca El Jalacate.” This trip isn’t for the faint of heart. Loose gravel roads kept us in first gear, the little car struggling up the mountainous paths. When you arrive, look for a wooden post with brown letters that read “ESCULTURAS EN PIEDRA”—that’s “Stone Sculptures” for those of us not fluent in Spanish. Park your car as close to this sign as you can. And yes, I mean on the side of a cliff. Trust me, it’s safe.

The Path to Discovery

Facing the sign, turn left and follow the path downhill to a house. Steer clear of the house and keep to the road, heading for a cattle gate. Don’t worry, you’re not trespassing. Lift the strap over the pole and make sure to secure it again after passing through. Now, you’ve started your 1.5-kilometer trek down a rocky road strewn with cow dung and actual cows. Keep walking and snap plenty of photos—no one’s going to believe this otherwise. About a kilometer down, you’ll come across another fence with three poles blocking the way. Squeeze through and keep going.

Encountering the Sculptures

This path is one you’ll remember. If you start to wonder if you’re going in the right direction, then you probably are. Alberto Gutiérrez doesn’t care if you find him. No signs, no maps—just a path leading to the unknown. Eventually, you’ll stumble upon an area that looks like any other Nicaraguan store. The entry fee? About 10 Cordobas or $1 USD.

Ahead lies something breathtaking. Over 3,000 carvings scattered across the land, each one more captivating than the last. It’s like stepping into an Indiana Jones film, discovering a rare, untouched temple. Each carving speaks to your heart, pulling at something deep within. This place feels sacred, almost religious, even to someone like me who isn’t particularly spiritual.

Meeting Alberto Gutiérrez

I had no expectations of meeting Alberto Gutiérrez. From what I’d read, it was rare to see him. But there he was: an elderly, thin man, barefoot, with a pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket and chisels in hand. My excitement was hard to contain. I’d traveled halfway around the world, hoping to meet a man who seemed more myth than reality. But he’s very real and likely to outlive us all. He invited us to sit and shared his story, saying something that will stick with me forever: “If you made it here, then God sent you.”

Reflecting on the Journey

Have I been searching for this man all these years without knowing it? Is this the reason I’ve traveled the world, seeking to fill a void? put on a mission from a higher power with only a compass pointing in a direction? “Seek and you shall find” kind of thing? Perhaps.

He directed us to his carvings, which are perched precariously on the side of a cliff in the jungle. The ledge wraps around the mountain, offering more awe-inspiring sights at every turn. There’s an altar carved into the trail where he prays and invites you to do the same. This place is enchanting and emotionally overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

Ron and I finally reached what felt like the end of the trail. This goat path on the side of a mountain seemed endless. We turned around and started walking back. As we approached the spot where we’d paid our entry fee, Alberto and his family greeted us again. We bought a few bottles of water—50 Cordobas each, a small price to pay. It’s the most honorable way to support an honorable man without giving a handout. Spend some money, buy their goods, and they’ll give you a piece of their heart in return.

Lessons from the Adventure

The walk back was challenging. Coming down the hill, you don’t think much of it. But Ron is 71, and I drag him all over the world. Sometimes, I forget how young he is at heart and set my expectations too high. I knew he’d make it; I never doubted that. But he questioned himself, even said he might not be able to. I know Ron better than he knows himself sometimes. Later, when the emotion and pain subside, he’ll stop being mad at me and thanked me for pushing him.

Time is closing in on all of us. We’re one step closer to dying every day. And when our time is up, will we remember the pain or the accomplishment? Ron is proof that the spirit of adventure doesn’t fade with age. It continues to grow inside us all.

If you ever want to travel together or meet up, hit me up at TravelingAmerican.org/Contact