One of the draws to Matlagapa for me consisted of the nearby coffee plantations. I spent a few days around town drinking as much coffee as possible, and felt like it was time to finally make it out to where the beans were grown. I choose Selva Negra due to it’s close proximity to Matlagapa, which made this into an easy day trip.
I jumped on the bus to make the quick 12 kilometer trip out there. Surprisingly, Selva Negra is actually a German run coffee farm. Started in 1880, the founder came at the invitation of the government to grow a bunch of plants, and so far, has not left. Honestly, I don´t blame him…we were in a pretty nice area. When the bus stopped at the turn off, I jumped out to make the rest of the 2 kilometer journey on foot.
Of course with my luck, right as I get off the bus, it starts raining. At first, it was only a slight drizzle, but as I kept going, it definitely picked up. Honestly, I was considering turning back, but only kept going because I met some fun loving Coloradoites heading the same direction. We finally made it to the farm… and of course, the rain dies down right as we get to a shelter. We laughed at our luck, but quickly took off to explore the vast network of trails before us.
A guide book warned that the trails were steep and muddy, but I just figured it was lying. It was actually telling the truth this time around, and within a few minutes were were covered in mud. Slipping and sliding up and down the hills, we made our way through the cloud forests. I was expecting to see numerous coffee plants, but I think we might have been in the wrong area. The farm is huge, so I’m assuming they are just grown on the other side. Or maybe it’s all just a scam. They just put a sign up that claims it is a coffee farm to attract stupid American tourists such as myself. Who knows.
We headed back to the road to make our way back to town. We thought a bus would eventually come, but weren’t entirely sure. As trucks came by, I threw out my thumb hoping to hitch a ride for all of us. I have found that with hitch hiking, if I roll up my shirt and show some skin, someone instantly stops. I did just that, and within about five minutes, I caught a drivers attention. Once the driver slowed, we all eagerly piled in to the back of his truck. This is one of my favorite parts about traveling…hitchhiking. It is widely used, especially in small towns in Central America, and I think that sometimes this is the best way to see the surrounding countryside. But, I seriously hate what it does to my hair. Never the less, it was a free ride so I wasn’t complaining.
After snapping numerous photos from the back of the truck, we made it back to our destination safely. Jumping out, we graciously thanked our driver before heading our separate ways.