A crazy border crossing

It was hard to decide to finally leave Ometepe. The old man at Hostal Central was an interesting person to talk to, and we discussed a lot of the things I like to discuss. Happy that I am not the only person thinking the way I do. He told me about his travels all over the world. Quite amazing that he has traveled so much considering that he is born to a tribe on the Island. That is what he claims any way. He knows a lot of secrets on the Island as well, and he was willing to share some.I went to a small museum (there are many of them), to see some of the things that farmers have encountered here while working on their lands. The items below are 2-3 000 years old vessels used for burial and food. They were beautifully decorated with images of animals, such as the jaguar, the monkey and bats, and painted with bright colours.

I woke up early to take an early ferry to the mainland again so that I could cross the border to Costa Rica early. I saw the ferry called Che Guevara lying there and thought that I was going with that one. But I returned with the same ferry as I came with; Ferry I. I ate my breakfast at Cornerhouse to say good bye to Gary and Sara, and have a last iced latte. Then I went to the ferry where I talked to some local boys while I waited. And soon the ferry had emptied the cars (an amazing number for a tiny ferry like that) and was ready to return to the mainland. The ferry loaded on only 2 trucks and we were off. It was a little bit rocky on the way over, but I was standing outside in the front and got some last pictures of the island from the ferry.

We reached the other side after an hour and the ferry was stormed by people looking for customers for their taxis. There was a bus to Managua on the dock, but no buses to Rivas or the border in sight. I made a deal with a taxi driver to drive me all the way to the border so that I could get there early. We were off right away and got to the border before noon. On the picture under is Ometepe from the mainland as the ferry docks.

 When I came to the border it was very confusing. I had to go to one little booth to pay a fee and then bring a ticket for further inspection. I walked a few meters with people around me shouting; this way, that way, here, over there, everyone pointing me to the right direction of immigration, as it was far from obvious where I should go. My passport had to be shown to some guy, along with the ticket that proved  that I had payed the fee. Then some walking again and I was at the immigration (on the Nicaraguan side) where I had to show my passport yet another time, get it stamped, show the proof that I had payed the fee, and then pay a fee again. Since it is a good km. or more to walk to the Costa Rican border I hired a tricyckle taxi. A young boy was working his way with me and my stuff on the seat on the front of the tricycle. As I sat there, already flustered and sweating from the heat and ordeal, a man came walking towards us complementing me on my beauty (something that made me laugh because my hair was plastered to my head, and my garments were sticking to my body), another man pased with a: "hola linda!" and after a few more meters a young man smiled and winked. At that I almost bended over from laughter, and made the young boy who got me to the border, laugh as well. Bless these men for trying to make me feel like an attractive woman even in my darkest moments! He stopped by a lot of small shacks and buildings and told me that here is Costa Rica and he could not cross. Again, after putting on my backpack and gathering my things, I had to put everything down again right away when I was requested to show my passport, AGAIN! Then I had to walk, and I walked, and I walked. Maybe a km. or something.It was far to the immigration. I was very nervous, because you should show a ticket out of Costa Rica to enter, something I did not have. I had not even filled out one of those white papers with questions of where you are from, purpose of visit and next destination and so on.I was dreading the worst when I said that I did not have the white piece of paper, but the clerk just waved his hand, took my passport and asked; "so, Linda, how long are you planning to stay in Costa Rica?" I said that I was only staying for a few days before moving on to Panama. He stamped my pass and sent me on my way. Then I walked to a booth, bought a busticket to San Jose, and waited an hour for the bus. (San Jose on the pictures below)

 

It is only 300 or something km. to San Jose, and it should take 5-6 hours, at least with the speed the youngster that drove the bus was going. I was sure at certain points that he was on a mission to kill us all. I was used to tranquil Nicaragua and Honduras with much less traffic on the roads. So the first experience of CR was a bit disturbing. The traffic in CR is very heavy and the roads are as narrow, and underdeveloped as the almost carfree (compared to CR) Nicaragua. It took had us 9 hours to get to San Jose, and by that time I was really tired and had been tested on my patience. We had had to stop a couple of times for 20 min. because of work on the roads, and we had a 10 min. stop to go to the toilets and get some food at a truck stop by the road. It was dark and late when we came to San Jose. Dazed and hungry I took the first taxi i could find to Backpacker Hostel Tranquilo in the heart of San Jose. I shared the room with a man from Chile that workes in San Jose and 2 women from Germany that where on their way home to Germany. After a good nights sleep I went out exploring San Jose. It was a bit weird coming to a big, busy city after the quiet Nicaragua. But I liked it. I found some cafes with organic food and vegetarian food. San Jose seem to have a lot of great shopping, but do not expect to get things cheaper than in Europe. I visited the cathedral while there was a sermon with some priests dressed in their most magnificent and expensive robes. In CR everything is Pura Vida. It is a very ecologically aware country, the only thing that is a pity here is that I was back in the land of Pizza Hut, Taco Bells, MacDonalds and Burger King. Hardly anyone will agree that these 4 food companies have anything to do with Pura Vida (a Pure Life), but still they are plentiful here.

Hiking a volcano in Nicaragua

The Cosigüina Volcano was once upon a time the tallest volcano in whole Central-America, from the size of it`s base, perhaps more than 3 000 m. It all changed one beautiful day, in January 1835, when the most violent eruption in the Americas, since colonization, blew most of this hot-blodded volcano away in one single blast. The eruption paved the oceans with pumice, left 3 countries in the dark for 3 days, and scattered ash from Mexico to Colombia. Today a beautiful lake fills the remains of the mighty volcano, and you can reach it on a 3 h. blistering, or more like scolding, hot trekk from el Communidad Potosi. To arrange the tour you can either go through Pure Planet travel agency, take the very bumpy 3-4 hour chickenbus ride from Chinandega to Potosi or do like I did; I went to Jiquilillo where I met William and Fabienne and I talked to them about it. They also wanted to see the lake in the crater of the volcano, so we had Nate contacting Tina to ask if she had some guests that also wanted to go. They had one guest that wanted to go, so we hired a guide, Eddie, (you have to have a guide, people have died up there) and a ride and left Nates ranch 5 am in the morning. Many roads in Nicaragua are not paved, so after 30 min. driving there was only a dirtroad, and because of the rain, it had all those small lakes. I was afraid that it would be to muddy or to deep for our van to pass through all theese "roadlakes", I would not want to get out of the car to step into  "puddle" with kneedeep wather. It seemed to me that we needed a car-boat of the kind the military use, or Austin Powers (if he has a car that can turns into a boat). But the locals here know what they are getting into, so they would not buy a fancy car that can not handle the obstacles of this country, so our little Toyota van, old and ratteled as she is, got us over to dry land again and again, and after crossing many "lakes" we climed a bit higher, and there were no more giant puddles! When we came up to el Communidad Potosi, also a natural reserve, a big delta and wetland area, teeming with birdlife.

The climb up the volcano was very hard for me, it was hot and a lot of wild wilderness to get through, I came up 2-3 min later than the others. Actually I almost wanted to give up when I was almost up because from below it does not look like anything special, but when I came up and looked over the edge of the crater I saw the most beautiful lake, with the clouds mirroring themselves in it. I was really happy that I had struggeled my ass all the way up, it was not the hardest climb I have done since it is not a very steep trail, but it was hard because of all the wilderness and the heat. I was glad I did not give up on the way up. My legs were sore and scratched from thorns, spines and malicious insects that bite and sting. The climb down was actually not easier, it was harder because of the power of concentration I had to put into it to not fall down and break a leg or an arm.

From the top of  the volcano, you can see Honduras and El Salvador on a clear day.

After the climb up we went to swim in this hot spring in the Potosi Community, the wather was not hot though, it was lovley refreshing. Underneath; a house from Potosi.

                 The local toilets. The pic under are from el Communidad Cosigüina, we stoped there for food, a                  local woman had made us each a traditional plate of chicken, rice, refried beans and eggs.

This is how it looked outside the car when we drove to and from Potosi.

William, Fabienne and I also went kayaking in Padre Ramos, it was a lot of fun. We went into the mangroove forest with a guide called David, who is a local of Jiquilillo. If you go without a guide you might get lost among the roots of the trees. During the kayaking it started to rain and a heavy thunderstorm was upon us, so we did a lot of kayaking in the pouring rain.

Leon

Beutiful Leon! The first real city that I have been in in a while. Drop dead gorgeous in the worn out, crumbling-down kind of way with its fabulous art collections, beautiful churches, cosmopolitan eateries and great nightlife. Originally Leon was located on the slopes of Volcano Momotombo, and from what I understand the Spanish conquistadores committed some of their cruelest excesses in old Leon, so when the mighty volcano reduced the original Leon to rubble and sand in 1610, even conquistadores, in other places, saw it as divine punishment. The city was doomed from the start, settled by unusually cruel and money-hungry tyrants, whose public spectacles included beheadings and setting wild dogs on capturing natives in the central plaza. After a number of earthquakes between 1580 and 1608 and finally the outbreak of Momotombo in 1610 the Spanish fled, carried with them what they could, to build up the city again where it is today, stone by stone and saint by saint next to the indigenous capital Subtavia. The old city was forgotten and buried for 300 years, and today it is a tourist attraction and a UNESCO World Heritage Site. I did not go there to see it, there is not much to see. A dictator, Anastasio Somoza Garcia was assassinated in Leon by the poet Rigoberto Lopez in 1956, something the ruling family never forgot. When the revolution came the family got its revenge on Leon for the murder with a hail of bullets and bombs that are still scaring the city. A good place to stay in Leon is the Bigfoot Hostel that has the Pure Earth Cafe http://www.bigfootnicaragua.com/pureearth.html  with wonderful vegetarian food, all the food is vegetarian with the use of organically grown veggies and they have pizza nights on Wednesday and Sundays. The bagels are super tasty and you can get an excellent huge cup of cappucchino and fruit juices. Bigfoot is connected to Green Pathways a travel agency that promotes sustainable tourism.
http://www.sustainabletrip.org/profile/greenpathways. Bigfoots biggest attraction among travelers is the volcano boarding http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UP3_UMAvyHQ and many people come to Leon just to slide down the slope of Cerro Negro. As far as I know it is the oonly volcano in the world it is possible to slide down. It is a lot of work getting up, carrying a heavy board of wood, and then with an orange suit and goggles you slide down. It takes a few seconds, when you are back in the hostel you are rewarded with 2 homemade mojitos (they are excellent by the way) and if you break the record you get 5. At the moment an Israeli girl has the record; 87 km. pr. h. and a boy from England has the mens record 88 km. pr. hour down the slope. Look for offers at the Hostels. The second day in Leon I went to the museum for legends and history together with Amanda and Camilo, it was the most scary and disturbing thing I have seen. It was full scary, badly made figures. In one room they have some history of torture that went on, on children and women even, during the revolution. And the other rooms are just full of big dolls or figures. Unfortunately I did not bring my camera but check out this website http://www.chickybus.com/2011/04/trippy-travel-photos-5-10/ and you will get the idea. The museum was a prison before it became this weird museum.

This is the biggest cathedral in Central-America and accroding to a story I heard it was supposed to be buildt in Lima, Peru and not in Leon, Nicaragua. It was approved for Lima because Lima was a much more important city for Spain, and in Leon, a much more modest onchurch was approved. The architect Diego Jose de Porres Esquivel, the Capitan General of Guatemala (he is also responsible for other beautiful and famous churches in the Americas) pulled a "switcheroo" and buildt this cathedral in Leon, and Lima got the modest one. The name of it is the Basilica de la Asuncionand, and it is the pantheon of Nica (Nicaraguan) culture. The tomb of Nicaraguas beloved son, the poet Ruben Dario is on one side of the altar, guarded by a sorrowful lion. 

                                  Streets in Nicaragua.

                                   One very old church in Leon.

                                                 Nica heroes.

                                       Inside the cathedral.

A beautiful church near the Parque central in Leon.

Passing Tegucigalpa and crossing a friendly border

From Comayagua I traveled to Tegucigalpa (Tegus) early in the morning. My plan was to get to Nicaragua by the time it got dark, to Somoto on the Nicaraguan side of the border. I took a bus that leaves 6:40  from Comayagua, and Tegus is not that far. But, I did not get to Tegus until past 12 o` clock in the afternoon. The busses are unspeakably slow. In Tegus most busses stop in a very ugly and dodgy area, so when I got of the bus, I saw no other option than jump staight into an old, almost torn apart taxi that took me quite a few blocks to the busstop to Choluteca. There was NO way I could have walked, it is the most scary, run down, ugly and desolated place I have seen up until now. The taxidriver took me towards where the company Mi Esparanca stop, but by the time I got to that company we passed another company that was going south, so I asked the driver to stop so that I could see if the bus had the desired destination. And then I experienced the most confusing thing on my travel. I guess I felt more vulnerable because of the robbery, because it was a bit scary what happened next. Immediately when the taxi stopped, a young man opened up the trunk of the taxi and started to pull out my bag. All over the place they were shouting; "Choluteca, Choluteca" on top of their lungs, so all the frantic activity was overwhelming after a long time of stillness. It turned out that 2 or 3 companies stop there. And they just stop there in the street. There are no terminals or offices, or even a parkinglot where the companies operate from. I, almost numb, jumped out of the taxi and said: "Espera, por favor!!" and grabbed my bag before the young man got it out. So what happened next is that the man grabs my other bag and I was kidnaped (it sounds very dramatic, but it was kind of like kidnaping) into the bus of El Benitio (or something like this) bus company! Because the young man grabed my bag and run into the bus with it.. what could I do but to follow? And my big bagpack was put into the cargoroom at the bottom of the bus, and OFF we went! So, I was lucky that I did not have to hang around in the area for hours to wait for a bus. Even 40 min. of waiting in that place and I think it would almost make me pee myself (not really, but you know what I mean). That is how NOT friendly it looked. I was also round eyed going through there with the taxi, wondering how on earth it was able to get its very beaten body up the steep hills, and what I would do if it broke down.
                                 Pic. from San Marcos de Colon

So WHY this kidnaping of passengers? The buscompanies are private and they compete against each other for customers, and there were 3 companies with ready-to-go-busses standing there, so when a taxi stopped there, and they saw me (white women (and they knew I wanted to go to the border because they said: "vamos Nicaragua!")), they saw a customer, so they went by the law of the jungle. First man to the mill and so on. The more aggressive the helper, the more customers. WHY on earth else would anyone come to that place in a taxi? So, they knew, even before the taxi stopped that there were people in it coming for the bus. In Tegus the companies just stop all over an area that is dangerous at night, and not too safe during daytime. Travelers have to wait for the bus out in the street, in the heat. I was glad the bus was on its way right away. And it was a loooooong ride, but short distance. It should be possible to do the trip in 2 hours. But again, for 4 hours I drifted in and out of sleep, I never had had the chance to go to the bathroom, nor had I eaten anything. I was so happy when the bus made a 10 min. stop after 2 h. and I could eat, drink and go to the bathroom. After 2 long hours more I arrived in Choluteca, and guess what; the terminal is the  markedplace! Nothing wrong with that normally for me, but I was dying of thirst and was hopeing I could fresh myself up a bit, but I was again picked up and herded, into a chickenbus this time. A big yellow, beautiful bluebird, and I was told that we are leaving "AHORA". Yes, vamos a Nicaragua. So I entered the bus, I told the helper that I was dying from thirst, so he found me a man that sold water in small plasticbags for 50 cents. The bus did NOT leave "ahora". 30 min. passed, then 40 min. and I had to surpress all my bodily functions. When we finally moved, we took a "sightsing tour" around town to pick up people here and there. I was quite amazed that they did not go inside peoples houses to tell them that we are now leaving for San Marcos de Colon! Nothing would surprize me at all at that day! And then we went BACK to the marked. I figured that by the time I was told that the bus would leave until we REALLY left, I could have found a bathroom, washed my hands and face, eaten something, gotten a toothcleansing (I saw a dentist right next to the bus at the marked) and maybe a haircut. When we finally were on our way, the bus climbed slowly up amazing hills, going south towards the border, and I forgot all my missery and self-pity, and got lost in all the amazing green that unfolded, and the "birdview" of the valley. And then we came to San Marco de Colon, short distance away, but it took forever to get there. And it was such a nice and quiet place that I decided to stay the night. It was late, I was hungry, and Hotel Colonial was very, very inviting with big a room, nice bathroom, soft bed and cable TV. It is a small place so I explored it in the late afternoon in dusk, and did not leave until 12 the day after. Around midday the next day I went to the marked to find a minivan to the border, I had to wait 30 min. or more for it to fill up, because they leave when they have crammed a certain number of people inside. It took 10-15 min. to get to the border and I had to walk to the immigration to /from Honduras to go out. I was called into the office of the immigrationoffice, that never happened to me before, so I was wondering what was going on. A very nice and smiling officer came in and I handed him my passport. He noted that it was my birthday and congratulated me, he also noted my name and made a comment on my name (that happens a lot. "Linda" is the feminin form of "lindo" which means beautiful, nice, pretty, sweet), and country. Almost flirted a little. Then I walked 5 min over the border and came to the bussinesslike Nicaraguan border. It is the safest borders I have crossed, there are no villages or stores there. The moneychangers are properly dressed, and did not jump me to get me to change money with them. Already I could see that Nicaraguans are very easy-going people.