Nicaragua, Round Two...

---

Today started bright (well, it actually wasn't very bright when my cellphone alarm went off at 4AM) and early in San Jose. I had managed to find the Tica Bus ticket agency relatively close to my San Jose, Costa Rica hostel and had purchased my ticket previously. I got up and ready for the long journey to Nicaragua with the taxi picking me up promptly at 5AM as arranged. The taxi driver quickly became annoyed when he heard that I only wanted the Tica Bus Terminal as opposed to the airport as the San Jose airport is actually in the 'burbs of San Jose, hence would have been a larger fare and where he thought I was going. The guy at the hostel who arranged the taxi for me and the taxi driver exchanged some words in Spanish, though I couldn't tell to what extent it was an unpleasant conversation other than I can imagine it wasn't good news for any taxi driver to think you were getting something closer to a $15-20 fare and get more around $5. Anyway, the driver got me to the station by 5:15AM for the 6AM bus. I checked into the station and put the claim check onto my backpack and then basically waited. The Tica Bus is one that, assuming they're all similar, I could suggest to anyone traveling in Central America. It was only $14 dollars from San Jose to Granada (I actually purchased a ticket that would have taken me to the capital, Managua, but got off early at one of the few extra stops between capitals because I wanted Granada anyway - other travelers did the same thing) and, frankly, a darn comfortable ride. The station itself was pretty modern and organized and the bus challenges Greyhound for its modern and comfortable buses: fully air-conditioned with a toilet on board. Seats had plenty of cushioning for your rear and also had removable and washable headrest covers so you had more assurance when putting your head back to rest. Finally, there were movies played during the ride, with English subtitles. There were also basically no stops along the way other than a few cities near Managua and, of course, the border so a reasonably quick ride. Not too bad a way to go between countries..

We headed out and, to be honest, it wasn't long before I was falling asleep on the bus so I didn't see much scenery in Costa Rica along the way. Obviously, I was tired...I usually don't sleep much on planes, trains, or automobiles and hadn't slept much the night before. It's just the way it is, - the moving and being around a bunch of strangers leaves me not much in the mood to sleep. This was obviously good that I was able to sleep more, though, as it made the 7-8 hour ride go that much more quickly. Now, it wasn't "deep sleep" by any means as I know I would wake up on occasion to stretch or realize my neck was bobbing around in uncomfortable positions so I had to re-situate myself. I also know that my left knee was occasionally bumping into the leg of the young lady next to me (don't misread that, folks...I was asleep!) and I worried if I was bugging her. However, when you're half-awake you also only care so much. Anyway, what little I saw of the scenery in Costa Rica is much what you'd probably expect: lush greenery on the paved road as we worked our way from the mountain highlands to the more sea level heights approaching Nicaragua.

Eventually, the bus seemed to be making more than just the occasional stop for traffic on the highway, which was paved and the Pan-American Highway (so, the main highway through Central America) but still one lane each direction so necessary to occasionally stop for some oncoming traffic. I decided I should make myself wake up enough to realize what was going on and decided to ask the young lady next to me if this was "La Frontera" (the border). Indeed, it was... I remembered my experience with the Panama-Costa Rica border and while I was obviously ready, I wasn't particularly excited about this necessary evil to endure. The bus stopped and everyone started getting off the bus. However, on the Panama/Costa Rica border everyone was taking all their carry-on bags with them. On this border it wasn't necessarily the case. I decided to take my "man-purse" but decided to be trusting enough to leave the camera. I hope to see you again, camera!

We then headed to the building in this dusty and seemingly remote outpost of a border crossing. There was basically the Immigration station and a very few stores with duty-free goods, none of which I was particularly interested in seeing. There was a big difference in this station, however...people hounding you for items straight off the bus. In fact, you had to work you way past them as you were even getting off the bus. Now, it was almost all money-changers (it looked like from Colones to Cordobas, though I imagine dollars would have been exchanged). While there were plenty of them, none of them were offensively pushy as you walked by, but still something different to experience. It reminded me of the last time in Nicaragua at the airport with seemingly 100's of taxi drivers trying to get you as a fare. Almost everyone just walked by them as I can't imagine the exchange rate is all that favorable. Frankly, if you have dollars, most people will accept them if you need to buy something in the interim. You then just eventually need to find an ATM and you can get whatever money you need in the local currency (and the ATM's offer an English option if requested. We headed into the building that was actually air-conditioned and waited in line for our exit stamps. I was wondering if there was any exit fee, but I presented my passport and customs paperwork. A minute later and a few stamps later, I was done with Costa Rica - no money needed. Now, from my previous experience I assumed I needed to walk somewhere to actually "cross the border", even if they had yet to inspect any bags like last time. At this point, I asked in my limited Spanish "Donde vamos?" (where do we go?) to the young lady I was sitting next to basically she said to walk across the border. That made sense to me and I walked with her. We talked a little bit, again with her very limited English and my limited Spanish (though almost everything was in Spanish). After a reasonably short walk we came to the Nicaraguan Immigration office and I got into line for my entry stamp. At this point, young boys were ready to offer me customs forms that I eventually needed, along with pens. Now, this wasn't just out of the goodness of their hearts as they asked for tips (I gave one $1 for the efforts and, frankly, to move him along) and approached the window. It was a quick process with a requested $7 entry fee. I think the entry fee is actually $5, but who am I to argue on what the correct amount is to enter? I probably bought the Immigration agent a $2 treat of some type...so be it... I then found my friend for the moment and we waited at the seeming correct point to wait. I did soon notice while this was clearly a waiting point for buses I didn't see the bus or any of our fellow busmates. Hmmm...

The answer arrived soon enough, literally. The Tica Bus with the bus full of busmates came rolling up to the wait station. I could have gotten a ride to the entry point if I had stayed there instead of thinking I had to walk across the border! I had read that the Tica Bus does everything at the border other than hold your hand. Oh, well...I found the bus I needed to be on plus had the advantage of never having to give up my passport. Just like at the other border, everyone apparently gave up their passport for stamping. By walking, it always remained in my hand - which I much prefer. Everyone got off the bus and got into a line for potential luggage inspection, which obviously I joined. The line was a fast moving one with the Nicaraguan Immigration agent mostly collecting the customs declaration sheet we each filled out and moving us through. After a fairly short wait, we were loading the bus to prepare for the remainder of our journey.

Once in Nicaragua, I stayed awake. It was interesting to see the terrain. From the more lush rain-forest type terrain with some mountains to break up the horizon, it looked like not only did we literally enter another country, but perhaps another world. The land became quickly more flat and dry, brown fields quickly predominantly replaced the green. There were occasionally green trees, but the brown, dry farmlands brought the feeling of the much poorer country that Nicaragua remains. The houses we did see from our one-lane highway (that seemed to be only one lane for both directions, but obviously cars were passing us in the other direction) had a much more basic construction - or de-construction as the case may be - than in Costa Rica. While the tin roofs on the buildings are nothing new to other locations in Central America, it seemed there was more rust on these roofs and the walls often seemed to have more crumbling to their concrete or bricks. Definitely there was no glass in the windows in these rural houses, maybe just gates to keep unwanted people or animals out. This was clearly the change that I was expecting even if not all that excited about. Even the cows and bulls aimlessly occasionally wandering the fields alongside the road gave a more remote and poorer feel than I experienced in Costa Rica - even if it was just my limited perception. Indeed, from the comfort of the air-conditioned bus with its cushy seats, it seemed almost a little surreal to be looking at this different land while seating in relative wealth at my only $14 bus ticket. The Nicaragua rural world passed by after a while, the scenery did become more appealing. We passed farmlands (of which the little boy on the bus was excited to see the cows, or "vacas!" he kept telling mom and dad about) and with those farmlands, there was more green. Often, the farms appeared to be sugarcane fields, though there were other fields, all with nicely lined rows of whatever crop in the sun.

After about 2 hours, we arrived in Granada. Now, for those of you who know, this is round two for Granada for me. I was here in 2006 for a week so I was hoping once off the bus to see something I recognized and look for a hostel from there. Unfortunately, the Tica Bus agency in Granada is not in the town center, thus I didn't recognize anything. Long story short, there were other gringos and I ended up tagging along in their taxi with them. They actually went to some house they rented outside of town, but the driver then brought me to the town center. I had investigated some hostels and hotels ahead of time but decided I would start at the one I stayed previously. It is the Hostel Oasis, which the cab driver knew. He did, along the way, pick up a local person going generally the same direction and it sounded like she had waited a long time for a cab on the side of the highway, but after about 15 minutes I was dropped off at the hostel - all for $1. I checked into the same room I had in 2006 - a private room but with shared bathroom. However, A/C is available from 7PM to 7AM, so I at least sleep comfortably. There's also a ceiling fan and the room stays relatively cool so it's not too much trouble to not have A/C when you're not there much anyway. It was interesting to see the mix of people here. There are definitely the typical college-age kids backpacking and just looking for a reason to pass the time and shoot the you-know-what while seeing something different. However, at this particular hostel, there's also some somewhat older people like myself who are simply looking for a good balance between lower cost and not too much "roughing it", like myself as more income will now allow. Thus, I feel comfortable here. Anyway, after getting to my room and situated, I knew I needed both Cordobas and food. I soon walked and found an ATM for the Cordobas with food not long after. It was a submarine sandwich and soda that was pretty tasty. It was also only $5 for a good sized sandwich, fries, soda, tax and tip. Here was a reminder of one thing I liked about Nicaragua and Granada - it's still inexpensive even if becoming more "touristy".

After a nap, I headed out for walking and perhaps dinner. I saw some I recognized and some I didn't. Granada, and Nicaragua of course, remains a place with some apparent differences in income levels. While in Costa Rica I was approached for money actually pretty rarely, it does happen a little more here. Now, one thing that does seem a little different here is that those asking for cash are seemingly healthy young guys - of which I have much less sympathy. I have had an online discussion with other backpackers about when to give cash and there seems to be some sense that when it's healthy people that could work there is less sympathy - even in poorer countries such as Nicaragua. There are also still plenty of streets with small ramshackle stores like in much of Latin America - selling the hodge-podge of goods they can lay their hands upon. Anyway, I walked to a street that I remembered was something of a plaza. In 2006, it was still largely a work in progress with a very few restaurants to see. Not so much today...the street is lined with street lights from the plaza and from the large red and yellow Cathedral on the plaza, the decorative street lights going as far as I walked on the plaza. Additionally, there were a large number of restaurants open with people sitting at the outside seating (and looking open. One thing that I have noticed in some of Latin America is that businesses often are fully open, but behind bars and locked doors giving it such a foreboding presence you wonder if you should be going there. It also doesn't help if you're the only customer there. I realize this is just because Latin America seems to want the seeming security of bars and windows as a cultural thing, but it deosn't seem to help from a marketing standpoint. In fact, it was no surprise to me that the restaurants in San Jose that seemed to be more successful were the ones that "looked" open and had a minimum of bars on the doors and windows. However, I realize cultural habits are hard to change). The plaza was alive, even on this quiet Monday and obviously tourism with its Dollars, Pounds, Euros - whatever - have started coming in larger numbers to Granada. I walked some and then saw it...a sports type bar/restaurant. I looked in the window and saw Joe Mauer at bat, with the words "en vivo" (basically, live TV) on the Spanish ESPN station. This place could have served as their sole options pureed beets and prune juice to drink and this was dinner for me. I was in and watching my Twins beat the evil Red Sox in the 6th inning 7-3 (which was the final score). Now, I have no doubt the main reason for the Twins on ESPN in Nicaragua was because it was who has happening to play the Red Sox and not becuase it was the Twins, but I didn't care. For this guy who is, frankly, fighting the interest of new places with a little bit of homesickness, I was happy to see the Twins in the Dome. Instead of beets and prune juice I had Cuba Libres (rum and coke) and boneless chicken wings while watching the Twins be the first team in the American League Central Division reach the 20 wins game (which is also the last division in MLB to do so...) I was a happy boy on this first night back in Nicaragua. Better yet, for a good evening watching live baseball on a flat-screen TV in an air-conditioned restaurant, it only set me back $11.67 with tax and tip for those 4 Cuba Libres and wings...try that in the States...

I've done some investigation and know there are things to investigate further for its tourist potential. Now situated in the City of Granada, I will get a good nights sleep in air conditioning (which I know is perhaps not complete authentic "backpacking" but I don't care) and be ready to do investigating and picture taking starting tomorrow. Soon, there will be more stories of places visited that I didn't see the first time around, and will work my way from the familiar in Granada to new cities such as Leon (sort of Granada's "Twin City" for Minnesotans - even if not bordering each other), San Juan del Sur on the Pacific Coast, the islands of Ometepe in Lake Nicaragua, the largest freshwater lake in the world, and hopefully the mountain cities of Nicaragua with their own coffee and interests. I might even try for a tour of the Flor de Cana Rum factory. Six weeks seems like both a long time from the homesick part of me and also little time at all...

---