Nicaragua feels like a country where a ‘pot belly pig’ is still a meal and not a member of the family!
Due to the hassle getting the Honduras transit visa and the fact that I have to get a tourist visa for Honduras when I return to Nicaragua, I decided to speed through these countries. When I return I’ll have time to explore more…
Honduras
A Honduran ‘fixer’ approached me whilst exiting El Salvador. He was very friendly, smiling, had ‘what looked like’ an official ‘Honduras Government’ polo shirt on. ‘I’ve been here before’ I thought.
All border guards at both the El Salvador & Honduras borders smiled and spoke to Jose (the fixer). He was ‘pushy’ in a really nice way. The Border Guards encouraged me to talk him (his English was good).
Jose was an experienced ‘fixer’, about 45 years old and would have helped hundreds of Gringos over the years. At this point he wasn’t sure what I knew and possibly assumed I was naive. The distance between the 2 borders was 1/2 mile and after he had been involved at the El Salvador border he said he would see me at the Honduras border. I told him (with a massive smile on my face) I could manage the border crossing on my own (I wasn’t sure how easy or hard it would be). I pulled up at the Honduras border and Jose ran over smiling. The guards wanted Jose to instruct me on where to go and what to do. So I let him.
He asked if I had copies of all my documents and I realised I didn’t have a copy of my drivers licence. Whilst I was getting the copies Jose was permanently at my side. I asked if he worked for the government and he ‘awkwardly’ said no. I smiled and said I had crossed many borders overland and I generally navigate my own way through the process. I asked Jose how much he wants to help me, he said “not to worry, we’ll sort it later”, I smiled and asked again, this went on for a while. I said “if we don’t set a price now, I’ll thank you and say goodbye”. He said “you decide how much”, I said I wouldn’t do that and asked again, he said $10 (£7.50) and I said “that’s ok”.
He instructed me on where to go and what was required of me. Everyone was helpful and efficient and after a couple of hours I was through the border and realised I could have managed without Jose’s help after all. I only had a $20 note and asked Jose if he had $10 change? He said “how about I give you $5 change?” I smiled and said that’s ok 🙂 I feel it was the best £12 I spent that day 🙂 (£12 is around the average national wage based on a 7 days/week). I assume Jose backtracked and gave both the El Salvador & Honduran Border Guard and print shop man their cut. I hope so; spread the love, spread the money – this is ‘community’.
The whole border crossing took 2 1/2 hours. I then rode to the first town I could find looking for an ATM & Coffee Shop, en route I passed a massive rubbish dump, as is often the case it was bellowing toxic smoke into the sky. The difference this time was thee people living and working on it! I’ve seen this before on many occasions around the world, but this was the first time in Central America. I’m wondering if the further south I travel the poorer the people are!
And who stole the volcanoes! Guatamala & El Salvador were overloaded with them. Now, moments after arriving in Honduras they’ve disappeared.
I quickly rode the 100 miles across Honduras to the border with Nicaragua.
I arrived at the border at 1.45pm. The immigration hall was busy with people leaving Honduras, an hour later I had exited the country.
Hondurans laugh a lot, noticeably more than people in other countries.
Nicaragua
Usually there’s one straight road leading from one border post to an other.
As I left Honduras immigration there were hundreds of Lorries heading towards Nicuaguar, parked haphazardly across the road. As a motorbike traveller I never queue up with lorries, so as usual I ride between them. However as I progressed the space between the Lorries narrowed, to the point I couldn’t move forward any longer. Over the next 20 minutes I was going forwards, backwards, riding over grass & up the highest curbs. Many lorry drivers were directing me, but I couldn’t find the Nicaragua Immigration office. As no doubt you’ve guessed, I took the wrong road out of the Honduras border and ended up in the lorry lane. Eventually I worked out where I needed to be and had to ride over what seemed like an area where they dump stuff, and then there was a pipe that was about 30cm In diameter; yes, I managed to get the front wheel over but the back wouldn’t follow so the bike was balanced on top! A friendly lorry driver helped push me and the bike over!
At 3pm I arrived at the Nicaragua immigration office, hot and bothered after the lorry-park debacle. A modern building with about 15 counters for immigration, but just like England only 3 were manned. Luckily there were only a few people in front of me, and just as I was called to a cubicle 2 coach loads of people arrived.
At 3.45 I arrived at customs where I had to take the luggage off the bike to be put through a X-Ray machine. What a pointless exercise as they didn’t want me to take the big tank-bag off, they didn’t even look inside it. This took half an hour and then another half an hour to get the TIP. I was just about to walk out and ride my bike away when another customs officer calls me over, she took my TIP back and said nothing, a few minutes later I asked if there was a problem and she said “wait”. I eventually found out they needed to check the authenticity of the notarised letter my friend gave me to borrow his motorbike.
45 minutes later and it’s dark outside, and the police woman and customs woman started laughing at something they were watching on their mobile phone! I was getting very annoyed at my situation as I had been at the borders for 5 1/2 hours! I said “it’s not funny” in a grumpy tone (stop it Dan, this isn’t helpful), they stopped laughing.
Using Google Translate I said “I contacted the Nicaragua Embassy in London and they told me exactly what paperwork I needed to bring you. I’ve brought you that paperwork and now you should let me into your country” I lied…Less than 5 minutes later the customs woman gave me my paperwork back and said I could go.
At 6pm I leave and ride 5 miles to a hotel I’ve seen on Google Maps.
Early the next morning I have a lovely coffee in a modern coffee shop where everyone is laughing. The coffee shop is full of happiness and I end up talking to many wonderful people.
It was 50 miles to the nearest ATM. As I ride off I feel Nicaragua has the closest landscape to England so far in Central America, where the mountains have been replaced by grass fields and livestock grazing. Unlike England the road has a new and perfect tarmac finish, perfect riding…
The more I ride I realise the new road doesn’t ‘match’ everything else! The area feels very poor with horse & ox-drawn carts, petrol being sold on the roadside in 25L plastic containers. Very rural with men on horse back. Poorly built wooden houses surrounded by mud, chickens and young children playing and smiling. The road was empty, a few cars passed me and a few more Lorries.
Nicaragua feels like a country where a ‘pot belly pig’ is still a meal and not a member of the family!
Have I mentioned the amount of rubbish everywhere in Central America
And then I turn a corner and the volcanoes are back; not so English.
I arrived in the small town and found the ATM inside the petrol station, complete with a fully stocked bar!
I’m crossing Nicaragua as quickly as possible, however, riding a motorbike means I have to be constantly aware of what’s occurring and what could happen at any moment. This high-alertness is without doubt the best way to see and experience a country. As I continue riding along the perfect road I pass banana & sugar plantations and Lake Cocibolca, the largest lake in Central America.
I thought I had taken the road around Managua, the capital city but instead I found myself on 4-lane highways, complete with congestion, honking horns, everyone in a rush, busses emitting toxic fumes… I don’t travel overland to see McDonald’s, Starbucks or a Hooters! “I’m an overland adventure traveler, Get Me Out Of Here” I thought.
I had left the poor rural Nicaragua and found the growing city where consumption wins (I’ve passed countless shopping malls). Maybe these city folk have pet pot belly pigs 🐷 I thought!
30 minutes of hell and I’m out the other side of the city, I pass the famous San Cristobal volcano which constantly has smoke bellowing out, lakes, a flock of parrots fly overhead, small villages, community and happiness.
And when I wasn’t cruising through the countryside, I was making slow progress through the jungle.
After a day of extremes; the beauty of Nicaragua life outside of the capital city and the horror of the capital city, I find myself in Rivas, a small town 20 miles from the border with Costa Rica. For those who know me you’ll just have to believe me here… but I haven’t been in a bar for weeks (not because I chose to avoid them, but I haven’t seen one!), so I check into a very budget hotel (no hot water, no surprise if there’s a rat under the bed…) and as usual I wander. Now, some of the towns I’ve passed through have closed down by 7pm! I mean the lights are off, everyone is home… So as I wander there seem to be lots of people out, street food, and then I hear music (it’s only 5.30pm) and see a bar. Anyway, 3 bottles of beer later I’m feeling hungry so I head back out onto the streets; the only Gringo in town for sure! There’s so much street food, it seems like there’s no alternative, street food or go home hungry.
The ‘Pan American Highway’ passes straight through the middle of Rivas which is the focus of everything. Lorries with so many lights slowly pass, people on mopeds, sometimes whole families. It’s getting quiet as the evening progresses.
It’s 7pm and sitting waiting for my street food – could life get any better 🤔
The following morning I head to the border and see black rainclouds over Costa Rica. The last time I felt rain was a couple of months ago in Oregon, which is weird as I’ve been riding through rainforests for weeks now!
As my experience of the border crossing getting into Nicaragua was awful, I decided to arrive early. It’s 7.15am when I pulled up at the border. It was empty, nobody but me there! 20 minutes and I’m on my way to Costa Rica.
I will return to Honduras and Nicaragua in a few weeks and spend time here. However, like many countries the contrast between capital cities and rural areas is massive. I know new roads, air-conditioned buildings and shopping malls are seen as progress, but, if ‘smiles on faces’ were a measure…