Solo and Connected: Riding the Waves of Nicaragua’s Surf Spirit
The bungalows could use a carpenter. The restaurant sometimes runs out of ingredients. The road in is laughably rutted. Nobody minded any of it — not the howler monkeys, not the surf instructors, not the solo women doing exactly what they came here to do. Come find out why.
The ferry lurches across an inky stretch of Nicaraguan water, its engine grumbling toward San Jorge Terminal. On the other side, my hostess Linda has arranged a ride with a trusted neighbor back to San Juan del Sur — a simple kindness that reminds me how often travel is stitched together by generosity. For many of us, the women who travel solo and find themselves richly accompanied, this is what the road teaches us again and again: we bond quietly, through open doors and the kindness of strangers.
Selina is a global hostel network designed for travelers seeking reliable Wi-Fi, co-working spaces, yoga, surf lessons, and an organized social life—all under one roof at a price that reflects these inclusions.
Last year, Selina Quito in Ecuador drew me into its easy rhythm, surrounded by cafés and rich culture. Selina Maderas offers the same seamless connection to Nicaragua's vibrant surf culture—an invitation to belong, not as a spectator, but at the living heart of it.
For solo women, Selina provides a dependable framework: safety, community, and consistency. That said, a locally run hostel will almost always deliver greater authenticity, better value, and deeper immersion into the local surf life and culture. What you trade in streamlined amenities and predictability, you gain in the unfiltered pulse of the place.
Know exactly what you're buying—and choose accordingly.
The road into San Juan del Sur tells its own story — ruts deep enough to swallow a tire, infrastructure left to deteriorate under years of mismanagement and political neglect. This is Ortega's Nicaragua too: a place of rugged elegance made harder to reach by the decisions of those who should have protected it. The road is steep, slick, and laughably rutted. Boots sink; rubber Birkenstocks slip. They say the beach is a seven-minute walk. In truth? Closer to forty-five. Each obstacle along the way is a reminder that balance, at any age, is persistence over perfection. Playa Maderas unveils itself in a single, stunning sweep: a perfect crescent of golden sand cradled between dense, emerald-green hills and rugged mountain ridges that plunge straight into the turquoise sea, with the vast Pacific horizon stretching endlessly beneath a brilliant blue sky scattered with soft, drifting clouds—leaving you momentarily speechless, instantly certain this is exactly where you were meant to be.
Playa Maderas is low-key with its handful of modest shacks on stilts or right on the sand, painted in bright, sun-faded yellows, blues, and reds, topped with thatched palm roofs that blend into the surrounding jungle hills. Maderas Sunset Bar and Hostal Los Tres Hermanos, open-air upper decks draped in hammocks and laundry fluttering in the breeze are local and unpretentious: weathered railings, plastic chairs in mismatched vibrant turquoise, hot pink, lime green, basic tables under corrugated metal and thatch overhangs. Surfboards are propped everywhere like decorations.
The resistance to over-the-top development is in the air - cold beers and fresh ceviche over fancy builds, modest and community-focused amid the encroaching eco-lodges higher up. And yes, Toña lager in those iconic long-neck bottles, label featuring palm trees and a volcano is ubiquitious: condensation-beaded bottles sweating on tables, handed out ice-cold from coolers or fridges behind the bar, perfect for sipping while toes dig into the warm sand and waves crash nearby. The road will be paved someday. The beach bars will modernize. But today, the imperfection is the gift. It's the version of Nicaragua we treasure — unpolished, unhurried, and entirely itself.
Selina Maderas is tucked into the coastal hills, surrounded by howler monkeys, mango trees, and bright chirping birds. The pool is inviting, the bungalows — some in need of a carpenter's touch — with elevated platforms and simple stair access, surrounded by lush greenery, palm trees, and a hilly forested setting. Interiors are thoughtfully decorated with simple furnishings and vibrant wall art adding a bohemian flair, all with private patios or balconies with hammocks offering splendid views of the gardens, pool area, and surrounding jungle. The restaurant sometimes runs out of ingredients, and no one seems to mind. Wi-Fi is steady, the friendliness of the staff is steady, too. Nicaraguans are some of the most cordial and hospitable people in Central America, consistently going out of their way to make you feel at home.
We — women who surf and trek and rise early for yoga — understand this rhythm. It's the unpolished edges that make the journey satisfying.
There's no surf camp here. Instructors are from nearby, beach shuttle provided by confident shirtless teens on motorcycles who weave gracefully through ravines. When I step out of the ocean, covered with sand and exhausted, I encounter instructors from a previous camp. The sun glints off their toned physiques and the ocean breeze tousles their long hair. A new class is practicing popping up on the hot sand. The guys form a high five line and warmly welcome me back. What Nicaragua lacks in tourism amenities, access, and accommodation is made up for by the steadfast kindness and openness of its people.
We are the women redefining what solo looks like. We are proof that adventure doesn't retire.
If you're a fit woman over 60 still scrolling through sun-soaked Instagram feeds of Central American beaches, wondering if the time is right — hear this: it is.
The waves, trails, and yoga decks are waiting. The road will be uneven. The surf will be wild. You have already built the strength in your body and your spirit to find your footing. Nicaragua's San Juan del Sur, Costa Rica's Pacific coast — these places welcome women who have stayed strong and curious. Some in their 60s are just beginning to surf. Others are deepening their practice on the mat or the trail.
Book the ticket. Pack the reef-safe sunscreen. The world is ready to meet you exactly where you are.
Pack light. Step bold. Feel deeply.
⚠️ A note on traveling to Nicaragua My experience in Nicaragua was genuinely wonderful — and I want you to have the full picture. The country is governed by the Ortega-Murillo dictatorship, which has been escalating its authoritarian aggression: expelling religious orders, imprisoning political opponents, stripping citizenship from dissidents. In June 2025, U.S. officials convened a specific briefing to amplify existing travel warnings — an unusual step worth taking seriously. I share this not to make your decision for you, but because you deserve open eyes going in. [Read my complete note on Nicaragua →](Riding the Second Wave: A Journey for Women Who Choose Courage Over Comfort)