Typically, when I decide to write a blog about something, it’s because I feel like I have a substantial amount of knowledge and can answer a lot of questions about a certain topic.
I don’t remember 80% of what happened on Sunday Funday, San Juan Del Sur’s utterly barbaric display of bacchanalia. This happens every week. While it isn’t exactly the epitome of Nicaraguan culture or tradition, it is a party of legends that circles around Central American backpackers making their way through the Gringo Trail. Even those who are not keen on partying find themselves entranced by the stories of Sunday Fundays past.
Like I said, I don’t remember much of Sunday Funday, but oftentimes, what happens on Sunday Funday doesn’t just stay at Sunday Funday. You might not remember breaking your collarbone, but unfortunately for Scotty, your collarbone will still be broken the next day.
A girl broke her leg, another girl had a broken toe, and I was blessed to have just walked away with my foot cut slightly open and probably a terrible foot infection after losing my shoes within the first hour of Sunday Funday.
I brought my GoPro along with me to film the ride, but unfortunately, it only captured like the first ten minutes of the actual Sunday Funday festivities. If you want to see what the vibe surrounding the pregame is like, check my video out.
It’s like Christmas morning for young alcoholics looking to renege on all their morals for a day. Everyone ends up on the naughty list, and instead of coal, you might get an STD from jumping into the pool. Like I said, just like Christmas morning.
If you want to make hundreds of friends that you won’t remember the next day, Sunday Funday is the place to do it. If you’re reading this, you probably already have a general idea of what Sunday Funday entails, but if not, here’s the gist of it.
Thousands of travelers congregate in different swimming pools throughout the day while drinking an obscenely unhealthy amount of alcohol. You throw young, beautiful people in their swimsuits and party shirts together and it’s also just bound to be a hot bed for sex, including totally unsafe sex. By the time I got back from the club to my dorm at around 4 AM, half of the beds were occupied by at least two people. I’ve witnessed hostel sex just one time before my first Sunday Funday. That number was definitely up to at least ten times by the time I left the hostel.
Oh, and I stayed at Casa de Olas, which wasn’t even one of the stops for Sunday Funday. You’ve got Pachamama and Naked Tiger, and then two other places I think. Like I said, I don’t remember much and neither does anyone else who participates. The tickets when I went were $35, but apparently you can get them for $15 if you stay at Pachamama, which is usually completely full by the time the weekend rolls around, so get there early to secure your spot and prepare your liver.
So how exactly can you plan on surviving Sunday Funday? It’s pretty simple really.
Step 1: Do not bring anything valuable. The only thing you have a 50% chance of still having at the end of the night is your swimsuit. Say goodbye to your flip-flops, wallet, phone, camera, hat, sunglasses, and whatever else you decide to bring.
Step 2: Survive.
Got it? Great. Have fun.
The aftermath of Sunday Funday is probably one of the most interesting parts of the entire ordeal. Normally when you get too drunk to remember anything, at least one of your friends was sober enough to tell you exactly what happened. Nope. Not at Sunday Funday. The majority people I talked to don’t even remember leaving the hostel, nor do I. After I made the absolutely ridiculous video from never before seen GoPro footage, I realized hardly anyone remember anything at all. Like I said, I was only able to capture mostly the little pregame at the hostel, and even the majority of people could not remember half of that stuff happening.
That’s the best part. Or maybe the worst, depending on your perspective. You might not remember what you did, but there’s very little shame (maybe some internal shame) because no one remembers what you did either.
Friends who Sunday Funday together, stay together. By the time Tuesday rolled around and the majority of us were moving on to different, more sober destinations, there was a lot of heartache. In that short span of time, you’ve shared a lot with the people you were lucky enough to meet (including a bed, probably). It’s like having a little, close-knit family that also makes out with each other quite often.
If you aren’t willing to go a little crazy, then Sunday Funday won’t be for you. No one just goes to get a little tipsy or to casually drink. You go all in, wonder what the hell happened, then reminisce fondly on one of the craziest days of your life. It’s not something I could see myself doing multiple weeks in a row, but some legends manage to make it happen. You’ll be having withdrawals on day three post-Sunday-Funday and already be making plans with your friends to go back “just one more time”. Yeah, sure.
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