Food Poisoning In León, Nicaragua: Navigating Fear, Gratitude, And Embracing The Unexpected While Traveling

Yep, I thought as I clutched the edge of the toilet, my face damp from a mix of sweat and tears as I vomited my guts out. Less than 48 hours in Nicaragua and I already had food poisoning. Bienvenida. I gasped for air and then lurched over the toilet for another round of puking.

It was Saturday morning; I had arrived in Nicaragua on Thursday afternoon. León was my first stop and, until the food poisoning, had been absolutely fantastic thus far. In just a short day and a half in the country, I had already befriended a bunch of dancers from the León salsa community after a night out dancing, spent hours learning about the history and culture of Nicaragua in the city’s museums, been asked out and went on a date, sipped ice cold Victoria Clásica beers while people-watching at El Sosteo (arguably the nicest place to beat the midafternoon heat in León), gaped at the views of the city and the distant volcanoes from the rooftop of the cathedral… and more. It took me about two hours in León to fall in love with the city. And, apparently, it took me less than two days to get really freaking sick.

This is a narrative about getting sick while traveling, and more broadly about the surprises that occur in life, both good and bad, that mark us. The fact that I got food poisoning in León significantly impacted my trip to Nicaragua, and resulted in a spiraling of subsequent events that I never could have imagined would occur. In some ways, I even feel strangely grateful for the experience; at the very least, I have learned to accept it. So read on for my tale of illness in Nicaragua, and the beautiful, fearful, and simply unexpected that arose from that experience.

The road to recovery after food poisoning in León

Something remarkable happened as a result of me getting sick in León: I made friends.

Because I was too weak to change cities to spend a few days at the beach, I ended up staying in León for five nights, two more than originally anticipated. During this time, I crossed paths with a few important souls. The very night that I got sick, I met Leo* through some fellow guests in my hostel. Leo’s deep reflection on all things consciousness and presentness led us to many long philosophical debates over the next few days. He had the kindred spirit of a curious traveler, and he affectionately referred to himself as dark chocolate. We crossed paths frequently during my extra time in León, and our rich conversations left me contemplating the universe and our place in it.

I also befriended a man named Esmir*, who stitched me a bracelet made from upcycled plastic bags, gently reminded me to take my medication since I consistently forgot, and accompanied me on a day trip to Las Peñitas so I wouldn’t lose the opportunity to at least see the ocean, even after my plans had gone awry. My energy level was still low, a mere 48 hours after the worst of the food poisoning, but we spent the day with our ankles in the surf, getting drizzled on by fickle overhead clouds, and lazing in the sand as the sun began to set over the horizon, while sharing conversation so easy it felt as though I had known him for years.

By the end of my fifth day in León, I was physically much better. The storm that had passed through my body had calmed. I was eating more (albeit cautiously) and I had more energy each day. On day six, I finally felt strong enough and ready enough to continue onwards. I would head north to Matagalpa, as I had planned from the get-go. Sure, the beginning of the trip had changed, but now I could go back to my original plan of three days in Matagalpa, followed by three days in Granada, before heading home. As I boarded a bus pointed north, I couldn’t stop smiling, the interactions of the previous days leaving me with a warmth that only genuine human connection can provide.

Matagalpa, Nicaragua: when travel plans change (again)

When I disembarked in Matagalpa, something felt off. (Fortunately, that something was not my stomach.) But as I hailed a taxi and made my way to the hostel, the city passing by around me, I couldn’t help but feel the slight disillusionment of difference. Matagalpa was hilly; León was flat. Matagalpa was chilly; León was hot and humid. In Matagalpa, I knew no one; my friends were in León. I went out in Matagalpa that first evening for a walk around the city. I had been told not to stray too far from the hostel, particularly after dark. With the sun quickly setting behind the surrounding hills, I looped through the array of city center streets, poking my head into the massive cathedral, wandering around the central park, and ambling down Matagalpa’s bustling, commercial streets. But the city center was small, and not wanting to miss the suggested curfew, I soon returned to my hostel.

The next morning, I raced to Selva Negra to make it on time for the (incredible, by the way) tour of its coffee plantation. Afterwards, I was getting ready to go hiking in the surrounding cloud forest when the skies burst open. While an incredible torrent of rain poured down before me, I sat under the canopy of the lodge’s restaurant, mulling over my options.

I had been thinking that this trip would follow a certain trajectory, but now I was doubting whether I should actually stay in Matagalpa as long as I originally planned. It was stunningly beautiful, sure. I was happy that I decided to go up north, absolutely. But did I want to stay for three whole days? I thought again about León. About dancing salsa at La Olla Quemada, going back to the parque central, philosophizing more with Leo, getting to the museums I had missed, laughing with Esmir…

With the rain still pouring down around me, I messaged Esmir. “Si regreso a León mañana, estarás libre?” If I return to León tomorrow, will you be free?

He wrote me back shortly after. “Claro que sí.” Of course.

So I was throwing a wrench into my already changed plans. Isn’t that how travel is supposed to go? Suddenly I felt as if I had taken a big, long, satisfying breath out. I proceed to hike in the rain with an energy that I hadn’t felt since I left León.

Return to León

I had told myself that I would only spend two more days in León and then I would go on to Granada, but we all knew that was a lie. I stayed in León for the rest of my trip (though I did manage to have one long day trip to Granada, which was exhausting but definitely worth it).

I spent what felt like every moment of those four days occupied, mostly with friends. I went out salsa dancing again, obviously, feeling both fatigued and joyful on the dance floor. I played pool with Esmir (and won). I walked up the cerro negro volcano with Leo while we debated about the concept of hope. When it was time to walk down, before I had a chance to be afraid of the steep slope before me, Leo extended his hand, and we walked with palms clasped down the towering edge of the sandy volcano.

And I continued to feel a sense of marvel in León – a place where I had barely spent any time, about which I knew very little – about how I felt almost at home in the city. That feeling was clearly shaped by the connections I formed there. It’s easy to feel lost in a place where you know no one, but simply knowing that another human cares you’re there… goes a long way.

At times I felt sheepish when asked about my trip: “I spent 9 out of 11 days in Nicaragua in León,” I told those who asked. I definitely broke the traditional traveler mold of trying to see and do everything possible during my limited window for travel, instead choosing permanence in my impermanence. And the truth is that in spite of the bad that occurred at the beginning of my trip, seeing everything unfold the way it did made it hard to wish things had gone differently. It took getting sick to have had the experiences that I had during my trip, which ended up being wholly worthwhile; the good outweighed the bad.

Travel beyond travel: post-Nicaragua surprises

Getting sick in León had obvious implications for my trip itself, but what shocked me most was how what happened there affected my life upon returning home.

I came home from my trip very emotionally satisfied, with a renewed sense of wonder, curiosity, and connection to the world. But physically, I realized that full recovery would take some time. I had passed through the acute phase of the illness during those first few days in Nicaragua, and managed to regain enough strength to really enjoy and make the most of the rest of my trip. But it was clear that whatever I had contracted did not want to leave me alone just yet. The next few weeks involved all sorts of troubles: strange pains, side effects from medicines that led to other complications, and what felt like a revolving door of doctor’s appointments while I tried to get back to 100%.

At the same time, the relationships that I formed in León continued to evolve. My friendship with Esmir ran its natural course, as interactions between humans tend to do; with Leo, on the other hand, the relationship progressed. These changing relationships morphed the way that I view León and my time in it; my interaction with the city was not frozen in time, confined to the nine days in which I was physically there. Instead, my interaction with León has continued through today, changing daily as the interactions that so wholly connected me to the city also change. It complicates looking back on my time there, because looking back is also inherently connected to looking present, and looking forward.

And speaking of looking forward… something unexpected happened to me during this nebulous time, post-Nicaragua. During my conversations with Leo, the idea came up that we should see one another again. And I, generally being a throw-caution-to-the-wind sort of person, booked nonrefundable plane tickets to Guatemala, where we had planned to meet up. But of course… things changed, and I’m actually not going to be seeing Leo after all. Hopefully I will at some point, maybe in Nicaragua or Guatemala or in some other corner of the world. But this spontaneous decision left me with another trip on the horizon, to Guatemala and Honduras, which will once again be a solo journey.

And I marvel about it, because if it weren’t for getting freaking food poisoning less than 48 hours into my trip to Nicaragua, I never would have met the people who I met, and never would have returned to León after leaving, and never would have had the conversations that I had in the weeks since getting home that led to the decision to book those nonrefundable plane tickets to Guatemala. So it’s thanks to getting sick in León that I will be in Guatemala and Honduras in early September, and you can guarantee that whatever good, serendipitous, bad, life-changing, and in between comes out of that trip will be attributed, in the back of my mind, to food poisoning.

So I do feel grateful for everything that happened. But I don’t want to undermine the reality of getting sick, either. When I finally got my formal diagnosis, a few weeks after returning to New York, three different people said to me, “Alissa, you could have died.” What felt like a simple case of food poisoning during travel suddenly had a grave underlying layer, and left me feeling that, all things considered, I had actually gotten off easy. And now with another trip to Central America on the horizon, I’ve felt a mix of both excitement and anxiety. The thoughts have crept in: “What if I get sick again?” “What if I don’t get so lucky the next time?” What if, what if, what if…

But I don’t want to live a life motivated by fear. If this experience taught me anything, it’s that the unexpected and beautiful can arise from adverse moments. And quite simply, that we can never be sure of how our stories will unfold (except that they will undoubtedly be full of surprises). That’s life – a series of seemingly random events and encounters that have led each of us to where we are presently. Getting sick in Nicaragua was one event that led to a spiraling of others, coated with gratitude and fear, friendships and anxieties, good and bad. Looking back, I still would have preferred not to have undergone the experience of being sick. But if I hadn’t, who knows what my life would look like now? To that, we’ll simply never know.

Practical travel tips: how minimize your chances of getting food poisoning in Nicaragua (and what to do if you get it)

In general, travelers in Nicaragua should be careful when consuming fruits and vegetables. A good rule of thumb is to only eat fruits and veggies that come in a peel (such as bananas, avocados, etc.). If you want to consume fruits and vegetables without peels, it’s generally better if you prepare the food yourself, so you can wash it well and thoroughly dry it before consumption. Leafy greens, such as lettuce and cabbage, are the hardest to clean.

I can’t say for sure what it was that caused me to get food poisoning, but I did eat tacos with a small amount of salad (cabbage, lettuce, and carrots) and gallo pinto in the street the night before I got sick. I mostly picked around the salad, but I think what I did consume of it ended up being the culprit. I was later told by a local tour guide to avoid eating cabbage (repollo, in Spanish) in the street, so there you go. This was a major rookie mistake on my part, and I encourage travelers in Nicaragua to exercise more caution than I did when it comes to food.

If you do get sick, make sure to rest well and rehydrate with electrolytes (suero, in Spanish, which can be found in powdered form to add to water at any pharmacy in Nicaragua). It’s always a good idea to see a doctor if you’re not feeling well; I definitely don’t advise just trying to “stick it out.” Staff in my hostel told me that a doctor would come to the hostel and see me – a house call! – a mere half hour after I had inquired about how to see a doctor in Nicaragua. It cost 30 USD to see the doctor. If you do happen to get sick while traveling in Nicaragua, from food poisoning or otherwise, I highly recommend seeking appropriate medical help, to make sure that you’re on the right track to recovery and will be able to enjoy the rest of your trip to the fullest.

The last thing to keep in mind is that sometimes getting sick or not is about luck. Regardless, I recommend travelers take whatever steps are within their control to protect their health. But if anything does happen, I hope that in spite of the bad, that something unexpected and beautiful can also flourish from the experience.

For more general Nicaragua travel tips, don’t miss my guide to (solo female) travel in the country. For the continuation of the journey, check out my guide to sustainable travel in Copán Ruinas, Honduras.

*Not their real names

Have you ever gotten sick while traveling? How did it end up impacting your trip? Do you have any other tips to add on how to avoid food poisoning in Nicaragua, or generally while traveling? Has there been a moment that you experienced during travel that you felt significantly marked your life moving forward? Let me know in the comments below!

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