09/05/2016
Left our hacienda for Managua, Nicaragua a few days ago. The 700 km, 18hr bus ride, crossing four international borders (Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua) wasn't without its challenges. First off, we had waited in the lobby of the Crown Plaza hotel for several hours, waiting to board the bus, only to find out that they didn't accept a credit card when it was time to board/pay at 2:30 in the morning. Plan "B", go to the ATM in the hotel lobby, just in front of the elevators. “Contact your bank” was the message I got from the machine whose keypad seemed like it had been pried open at one point and the eight second lag between commands had me wondering if this machine was legit. “OK, I’ll use the one next to it. I don’t know why I tried this one first anyway. The other one has a keypad privacy shield. Duh!” “Contact your bank”. “Well, this is trouble. Scrap plan “B”. Am I really scrambling around to find cash at 2:30 in the morning, after having sat in the lobby for FIVE hours? They told me, I could use my MasterCard.”
Racing back to Julie, sitting with two sleeping kids, I hurried her to check for any extra Quetzals she might have or any $USD; plan “C”. I had a secret stash of $USD, and with our remaining Quetzals we might have the amount required. We were seven $'s short. No exaggeration. If only the expressions on our faces could reveal our subtle plea, “C’mon, this is Guatemala. We’ve bargained our way across the country (taxi, hotel, food, camping, park entrance fee, etc.) Isn’t there ANYTHING you can DO for us?” "Oh, wait, I remember reading that if it was your birthday month you bus for free. Charlotte's birthday is in a few weeks. That'll cover at least $50." He quickly quipped, “yeah, but if you buy a round trip ticket.” I went on to add, “right, so, if we buy a round trip ticket, don’t I save $5, since the cost is $90 and I would get $45 back? So, were only missing $2.” He took my cash, wrapped a piece of paper around it, slipped it a drawer and said, “Come with me!” The clerk behind the counter told the people in line to wait and we ran through the lobby into the streets, to a Burger King a few hundred feet away. I remember being relieved to be in the freezer of an ATM booth. Cooling away the beads of panic sweat that had accumulated around my forehead. Once he realized that the machine accepted my card, he raced back to the lobby to finish processing the rest of the passengers. When I arrived, he was waving me on, as if I were a baseball player getting the signal from the 3rd base coach to round third, stretching a triple into an “in the park HOMERUN”. I then went on to load, four bicycles (handlebars and pedals had already been removed) into the bus’ cargo bay. I was ‘kind of’ expecting an applause when I entered the bus but knew that was all just in my head.
Traveling by bus, through four countries still requires you to pass through the border check points; however, the bus steward would come around and grab our passports and our declaration papers and take them to the clerks. All we had to do was to get off the bus, collect our passport, stand before the clerk who scanned our fingerprints (not the kids) and get our entry stamp. There were some lines that were longer than others. The whole process worked quite well.
The rain intensified to an outright drenching as we passed through streets of Managua making our way to a fenced in parking lot. “Wait, where’s the Crowne Plaza? The overhead bay where passengers are protected from the elements?” There was spotlight from a telephone pole and just enough cover under the eaves to keep our gear and bikes out of the rain. However, it did nothing in protecting us from the faucet of water collected into mini waterfalls coming off the roof. Honestly, I didn’t mind. It was the first ‘real’ rainfall we had seen in over a month and the second one in close to four months. Bags loaded, handlebars installed (pedals will come later), we walked our bikes across the street to a hostel. Negotiating the price down (in $USD), we accepted the offer and carried our bikes and gear up to our second floor room. Ceiling fans, five beds and a cooling breeze eased us into our night’s sleep. 9:30 and we were OUT, well except Leo who got a hold of the wifi and our laptop. A ‘sort of’ luxury to have access to wifi in your room. Usually, you have to sit in the lobby or common room to get access to the network.
We took an extra day in Managua to relax, go to the bank (still wouldn’t accept my debit card), and sort out the bikes. We liked our time in Managua. There were several groups in dress rehearsal for their upcoming Carnival. Walking along the main thoroughfare in town, we were able to listen/watch the different groups perform.
The following day, Mother’s Day, we biked out along empty city streets (Sunday= less traffic) towards Masaya and Granada. Climbing the gentle rise, facing a headwind forced us to pull over into a gas station. I addressed several new squeaks and ticks coming from my bicycle. Not sure what caused this, but I think I have a loose break pad coming from my rear disk brake. I remember seeing it bounce around when I was trying to put my rear wheel on a few days ago. I was too hot and perturbed to take care of it then and was quickly reminded that I had forgotten to address it. I gave up trying to figure out the other noises, and plugged into my iPhone. We stopped for a butt break in Masaya after two hours and 30km down. Only 16 to go, pretty much all downhill along a well shouldered road.
Granada will be home for the next four days as we soak in the lap pool, wander the colonial streets, do some kayaking, relax, edit some video, reflect on our trip and prep for our return to Vermont/Quebec in two weeks.
Later this week, we plan to bike to San Jorge where we will board a ferry to the Ometepe islands in Lago Nicaragua. The island is made up of two volcanoes connected by a cooled lava flow. We’re thinking of renting a small, off the grid house for a few days.
Here are a few pictures from the last week:
