Another border crossing and a boat trip

 From Almirante in Panama. After you cross the border from Costa Rica, you may want to go to Bocas del Toro. You can either do a tourist service; bus /boat, or you can go independently. I went independently, so I took the local bus from Puerto Viejo in Costa Rica to Sixaola in Costa Rica. The bus stops right by the border, so you just walk up to the immigration office and get your passport stamped. I came in the middle of a Tican tourist group, so I had to wait a long time to get my stamp. After you have had your stamp in your passport, you walk across an old train bridge. It is not so long. It is one of the shortest distances I have had to walk between border crossings, and on the other side you get to a narrow hill with some huge stores below. The buses to Panama City and Changinola. If you travel on your own it is a good idea to start early with your border crossing. I came to the border around 11:00 but I was not in Bocas del Toro until around 18:00. The local bus takes about an hour from Puerto Viejo, and on the other side the buses leave Guabito frequently. The border crossing is pretty straight forward but you might get hassled into taking an expensive tourist transport for $30-40. If you are alone it will cost you a lot, but if you are a group its cheaper. Still you will probably end up paying at least $6-10, and with a taxi you will pay $ 1,50 to get to Changuinola (or bus $1,20) where you have to change the bus to get to Almirante, David or Panama City. From Changinola you will pay $ 1,80 to go to Almirante where you can get a water taxi to Bocas Town on Isla Colon. Where you will be met on the dock by eager agents with 100s of suggestions for you. Stay firm if you know what you want. That rule goes for everywhere in Central-America as people are overwhelming, but truly lovely anyway! After crossing the border I was so lucky that I met two good looking Germans; Konrad and Loths, so we took the same taxi and the same bus to Almirante. We wanted something to eat in Almirante, so we decided to take a water taxi that left 5 o`clock in the evening. The ride was first very calm, but midway it was more choppy. I imagined that I was on a bus on a bumpy road, in stead of in a tiny boat in the middle of the sea. And it worked. It was actually quite fun, I have gotten used to sea and lake travels on this trip.There is absolutely nothing to do in Almirante, I do not think they have many options for sleeping there either, so your best option is to get to Bocas the same day as you cross the border. There are not many boats between  Almirante and Bocas after dark, but they start running from Bocas /Almirante 6 am. For female travelers the fun starts already when you are at the border. Of course, Panamenan men also LOVES women, so they will love you if you are a woman. It seems to me that men on this continent adores women, and I have experienced being stared at as if I am an angel, or as if they have never seen a woman before. Luckily staring is all they do, so you will not have any problems with the men here. They might say "hello", ask where you are from and your name and tell you that they love you. They do that to local women as well, so do not get too exited. If you are a woman they like you, but for tourists that are not used to all the attention it might feel as if this is something they do especially for the tourist women. They will address you with a "hola linda" and /or "que buscas /quieres, (mi) amor?" (hello beautiful. What are you looking for? /what do you want /need, (my) love?), which is quite nice in my opinion. They will always find a way to put in a compliment and praise your beauty when you have a conversation with them.

 All the pictures are taken from the boat as we were leaving Almirante. The water taxis take less than an hour. Running small "pangas" with a strong motor that can fit some 20 people. Fortunately they do not put more people in the boat than there are life saving vests. because of the many horse powers in the motor, the boat goes so fast that it feels like flying. The sight of all the small and big islands is just dazzling. It is like the forest version of Venice. Some places you see houses on stilts out in the water. The distances between the islands is also quite amazing, because it is far between some of them. Some islands are just mangroves, and not possible to inhabit. One of those islands is the "sloth island". Dedicated to the relaxed and beautiful animal. A boat tour will take you there, and it is almost guaranteed that you will be able to see them from the boat. Bring binoculars.

When I was on dry land in Bocas Town, or Bocas del Toro as the name is, on the main island Isla Colon I went to Hostal Heike together with the two Germans. We got the same dormrom, but we were only the 3 of us in a dorm with 8 beds, so it was good. A bed is $ 10, and you can not get it any cheaper on Isla Colon, it has a kitchen worth using since going to a restaurant around there is pricey. Bocas has the highest cost of living in all Panama, it is like in Costa Rica. One reason is of course that it is VERY touristy (but I was there during low season so it was great!), and there are a lot of US -, and European born people living there. I met Germans, Italians and Dutch. And of course a lot of people from Florida and Carlifornia. I think all the hostels and hotels you can find is owned by a foreigner, and all the fancy houses are for foreigners. More about the place and the people in other blogs.

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.

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.