The Loose Moose, San Juan Del Sur – Ice Hockey, Beards and Beer

I’m hoping you’ve all gathered from the headline that this is clearly a Canadian bar. If you didn’t then you may want to stop reading now as it will probably send you into a boredom induced coma. Or keep reading and learn about how cool Canadians are. Your call.

Nice flag, eh?
Nice flag, eh?

We stumbled across this small Vancouverite run joint while wandering down SJDS’s (Nicaragua) main drag a block back from the beach. A sign caught my eye advertising poutine and caesars. No true-blooded Canadian can just continue past a tasty offering like this, so we ducked in for a quick round.

Shut up and get in my mouth...
Shut up and get in my mouth…

Canucks merch adorned the walls. The waiter was attentive and polite. The caesars had options to customise, including bacon. Poutines were 2 for 1. The Canucks were being shown live via and were down 2-0 against Nashville. I was happier than a prostitute at a fucking Chinese gamblers convention.

I downed a couple caesars and got talked into trying some half price sushi. I believe it was called a 911 roll, it had some crispy prawn in it and was drizzled with Sriracha sauce. Take my money.

I heart you Sriracha!

The ‘Nucks equalised and the party kicked it up a notch. I tried my best to summon up my old Canadian accent that has somehow blended into an English/Aussie/Canadian shit mix. “How do you think they’ll go in a shootout. Eh?” I asked a heavyset bearded fellow wearing a crop top and pink shorts who had clearly been hitting the sauce pretty hard for a few days. He went cross-eyed for a second before exhaling, filling the air with essence of hot sauce, beer and bad life choices. “Dunno…” Big fan then.

Yeah, I'm old school...
Yeah, I’m old school…

Anyways, the boys in Blue beat the Predators 3-0 in a shootout and it was game over on the TV but game on in the bar. I was clearly lacking behind my countrymen in blood alcohol percentage so I decided to try some “Moose Juice”. A glass of this potent potion set me back a mere 40 Cordobas, about $2.75. After a few of these I realised that I wouldn’t match the Canucks with their come from behind victory as these drunken, baseball capped lumberjacks were throwing back three to my one. I quietly made my exit, sidestepped the obligatory drug dealer near the door and called it a night.

MKT rating: 7.5/10 (I would have liked to see some Canadian beers on offer)

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