An almost pleasant Nicaraguan experience

The Nicaraguan border crossing was a dream. There was practically no one at the crossing, the photocopy machine was actually in the border entry building, and one of the border employees were amazingly helpful, giving us directions to the nearest ATM, the best way to avoid bad traffic around Managua, and just generally being helpful. Meanwhile, the guy who actually had our papers that we waited an hour for was strolling through the parking lot smoking a cigarette. We were still there for more hours than any border crossing should take, but we left with a good feeling.

We found an ATM at the border town where the friendly guy said we’d find one, and proceeded to the first big town across the border – Esteli. The capital of the state, Esteli is a very decent sized town, and we found a decent hotel next to a Casino called “Atlantic City,” and again got to park our bikes inside. We search the area for food, but end up with bad fried chicken from a friendly but scamming (trying to move her leftovers from lunch since we came at that off-time between lunch and dinner) old woman.

When night came around, we grabbed a late dinner and I tried to see what the town had to offer. Again, the only places that I’d call bars were really restaurants, and the only other place to grab a drink was a disco, which didn’t really fit what I was after. I ended up back at the casino next to our restaurant talking to the guy behind the bar about the casino industry, and the guy next to me had come with a bunch of friends who’d gone to bed and he tried to convince me to go to a brothel with him. I tried telling him that I needed to sleep that night and leave tomorrow. He tried telling me there’d be 4-5 women and they’d cost around $17 USD. He also kept sniffing, so I’m fairly certain he was coked up, which would explain why his friends had gone to bed.

In the morning, we prepared to get out of dodge, presuming to make it all out of Nicaragua in the record time of one day. We passed a lot of friendly people, and some incredible volcanic formations. We followed the Border Agent’s recommendations on paths, and just as we were about to pass the second largest city in Nicaragua – Masaya – we ran into the trouble with the cops described here. Thusly stuck an additional day, and extremely frustrated, we searched for the southernmost spot to stop for the night in Nicaragua.

We discovered that after Rivas, Nicaraguan civilization effectively ended in a beautiful view of two, far-off mist-covered volcanoes on the far side of picturesque Lake Nicaragua. Captivated by the scenery, we had to backtrack about 15Km back to Rivas, where we had no end to trouble finding a hotel for the night. We stopped at a gas station to ask for directions and get more money (since we hadn’t expected to have to cover another night and meals in Nicaragua), and met a Canadian that had moved to the area and was conducting various land dealings. He was extremely friendly and even invited us over for drinks, though we never took him up on it. He also insisted there were hotels everywhere. Despite his assurance, we spent at least an hour wandering, and eventually stumbled across one out of the downtown and overpriced (around $30, but one of the cheapest we found in the area, which was seemingly the tourist destination of Nicaragua), but safe and comfortable. We went out for a giant, deluxe, Nicaragua-style pizza, and some cheap shots of amazingly delicious Tequila to get over the frustration of the day in Masaya, and hit the hay, ready for our 30Km jaunt to the border the next morning.

I managed to get up relatively early the next morning, but the extra cushion of time was burned away entirely when we spent another hour of our lives that we’ll never get back wandering on foot around Rivas, searching in vane for some, any!, restaurant with breakfast. We eventually gave up and settled on some tasty sweet bread from a bakery that didn’t even sell coffee. Our morning suitably wasted, we got our stereotypical late start out of town on the way to the border.