I decided to visit the scene of the crime, hopped aboard the lodge’s boat and within 20 minutes I was in Granada.
One of the region’s loveliest colonial cities, it’s all postcard-pretty plazas, ornate churches and rainbow- coloured houses, where locals drag their rocking chairs on to the street to gossip with their neighbours.
Despite its turbulent history, today the city moves at a languid pace. I sat in the tree-shaded central park where old men snoozed and young lovers smooched, while shoeshine boys plied their trade and women in frilly aprons dispensed iced drinks, as the sun bathed the cathedral in an ethereal golden light.
Las Isletas also has a more active side. Another day, I went for a hike in the velvety-green Mombacho Cloud Forest Reserve, brimming with jewel-coloured hummingbirds and extravagant orchids.
In the evening, I travelled 40 minutes north west to Nicaragua’s and largest national park to peer into Volcán Masaya’s crater, exhaling sulphurous fumes, as shimmering orange molten lava bubbled away below me.
The following morning, I woke to a chorus of birdsong and took out a kayak for a paddle along the Isletas’ narrow channels. Fishermen were already balanced on their dugouts casting their nets and a purple gallinule bird hopped daintily between lily pads.
As I turned my back on Mombacho, across the vast expanse of the lake, I got my first glimpse of Ometepe Island – my next destination – and the outline of the Volcán Concepción in the distance.