stupid stupid carnivore

Oddly enough the street food of choice in Granada is a hot dog. Of course you can find gallo pinto y carne asada y ensalada but most often people chow down on a dog. These are serious weeners here: foot long, smothered in everything imaginable. Granada is a latin america tourist mecca which has its ups and downs, one of the ups being the mojito happy hour at la casa blanca. Dos mojitos for 20 cordobas which is 50 cents per one. So i got hammered of course.
In my stupor, with hefty appetite, i hit the streets looking for a meal. It was late and the streets were empty, but i managed to find a hot dog cart. Had i been of right mind i never would have eaten such a piece of crap, but i did and it was fantastic i think. Anyway, i left without my backpack which of course had everything i need to travel inside of it: passport, travellers checks, debit card, camera, cash, my journal, and my bike lock (i was on my bike of course). It took me about 10 minutes to realize what i had done and when i did i booked it back only to find the shadow of a once existing hot dog cart.
I mostly had something like a heart attack with a touch of brain meltdown, but my compatriots here tried to keep me a little more positive. I went to sleep knowing the total shit show that lay ahead of me.
Getting a new passport is a royal pain in the ass. It involves lots of time, money, and waiting. But i started the procedure. First thing was to have an official police report, so i spent many hours waiting to take care of that, most of which was spent talking to a teenage cop holding an ak47 with him asking me lude questions about how american women like to have sex. Ah just give me the god damn papers! They did. I left.
I hit the streets looking for my mystery hot dog lady but she was nowhere to be seen. I thought for sure that I'd never see any of my things again.
BUT THEN!!!!! I spotted a hot dog cart on a street corner with a lady who looked nothing like the lady from the night before... I had described to the police that the hot dog lady was an old lady with white hair... this woman was young and had black hair... and lo and behold strapped to the cart was my backpack. Everything was in order, nothing missing. In fact she would not even open the bag, for she knew that she would see me on the street at some point. Ay que fantastico! i could not believe it. This woman was so kind to watch over my bag and what a warm hearted soul. She didnt even know what was inside of it.
Later, i went back to visit her to try to give her a gift for returning my bag but she refused completely and in return tried to give me a hot dog. I refused as well.

Catastrophe avoided by the skin of my teeth. I feel like an ass still for being so careless, but it goes to show how amazing the people are down here. But here in Granada which is a very beautiful colonial city and full of tourists from all over the world there are two kinds of people: those that are trying to get your money and those that arent. The backpacker scene here is blown up and it bothers me so i leave tomorrow for Omatepe island for some volcano time. From there i can take a boat to a city near the border of costa rica.

Oh and biking, right. It is hot and my bike weighs a ton, which makes things very hard for my out of shape self. I have only biked about 35 miles so far but it gets easier from here.