The border crossing into Nicaragua went smoothly, but not at first.  We arrived at the border and there were lines of cars and trucks everywhere.  Dad went up to the window and it turned out that they were closed for lunch and they would not open until about 1:00pm.  The best part was that it was only 10:00am.  Well great, so we decided to head back to the last town and get some lunch and then make our way back around 1:00.  Until this kid came up to us and showed us an I.D. and saying that he could help get us through the border fast.  I wasn’t buying it, especially when Dad asked how much and he said “oh, nothing”.  That right there was fishy; no one works for free, especially here.  So Dad said ok and the kid went up to the window and sat there and yelled until someone came to help him, he handed the lady all of the paperwork and even though she appeared annoyed that she was interrupted during lunch she hurriedly did the paperwork and then the kid walked up through the rest of the nonsense until we were in Nicaragua.  Wow, proved me wrong, so he got paid anyways.  We made our way across while all the other people sat on the road.  The smartest truck driver was one who hung a hammock between the tires of his semi truck, obviously he had been there before.

About fifteen minutes from the border we stopped and had lunch, the usual Carne Asada.  This is the meal that 80% of the restaurants have served since we left the U.S. and it is usually all they serve.  Carne Asada is a slab of beef served with rice, beans, tortillas, and sometimes more depending on the area.  As we were pulling out of the parking lot it started to sprinkle.  Then it was a torrential downpour with hail included, but it was short.  We thought that we were in the clear, but then the skies really started to get dark and contained some of the most amazing thunderheads I have ever seen.  I told Dad that it was looking pretty bad so we pulled over to get our rain gear on, right in the middle of adding more layers it started to rain, and it rained and rained all the way until we got to the hotel right in Managua.  It rained so hard that I couldn’t even hear myself think, I don’t know how Dad saw where he was going, but we made it and practically walked into the shower with all of our clothes on, we were socked completely through all layers.  The only thing that stayed dry were my feet, best boots ever.  We stop for gas in the middle of the rain and when we were leaving the streets had begun to flood.  The puddles axle deep but dad didn’t think they were that bad due to the wonderful condition of the roads.  The worst part was being on a two lane flooded highway when I saw a semi went by, it was just like in the movies, that’s really how we got so wet.  Of course I didn’t help much either, Dad asked a couple of times if I wanted to pull over, but I said, “no, just keep going.”  It was probably his hint, but we wouldn’t have made it as far as we did, and I know that in the end he loved it.

There was some beautiful country on the way.  Just like the other parts of Central America that we have visited.  We drove though green mountains that are so lush and full of life.  After today, we now have experienced why everything is so green.  We are staying next to Lake Managua, across the street from the main airport.  The Best Western that we are at is full of people, it is a huge hotel and there are people from all over the world.  We were shocked to see so many travelers from the U.S. sitting at surrounding tables during dinner.  I guess that the biggest lake in Central America brings in quite the crowd.

Day 2 Managua to border crossing at Penas Blancas – 120 miles (215 to Miramar, Costa Rica)

What a day! It started by me breaking another rule. I had a planned route out of Managua and south to Costa Rica. However, the staff at the American base Best Western Hotel spoke good English so I decided to ask for directions. I know, slap me around and bring me back to earth.

Rules are built through years of experience and yet sometimes you let them relax and they bite you. Don't ask people down here for directions. They travel the same route everyday and are lost as soon as they get off that well traveled route. If you show them a map they are really lost. However, they want very much to be helpful so they will tell you something. The problem is it is never right.

After discussing my route, which avoided downtown Managua, two staff persons shook their heads. In hindsight, I know they had never been on that route. Giving them the benefit of the doubt, I thought maybe there is something on that road I don’t know about. So we discussed their routes, two different ones of course, that circled the city and headed south. They gathered three different maps. They all showed the city very differently. I decided to follow their advice and try to circle the city before heading south. I wish I had just given them boxing gloves and let them beat on me for an hour and a half. That would have been more pleasant. 

Yeah, the road that was supposed to circle downtown went into downtown and had many circles. Cities here are not designed to any known grid systems. Roads are built to connect the need to get from one place to another specific place. They just keep adding roads. When enough roads intersect they put a big circle in the middle. Signs are very unhelpful if there are any. The name on a sign may point to a place of business, a town not on any map, a state or someone’s home but never the next city on the road you want to travel. 

So into this nightmare we rode with a pair of dice in hand. At each circle we would throw the dice and go in that direction until we got to the next circle. Add morning hour rush traffic, trash everywhere and extra activity from the much anticipated upcoming election and you have a feel for what we got to experience this morning. Two hours later with a nearly overheated KLR, already tired clutch hand and throttle hand, and sore butt we had circled the city and were on our way out. I could look down toward the airport and see where we had started about three miles away. Our odometer was already over twenty miles. Live and learn. Just learn from those lessons and follow your rules.

We finally got out of town far enough where we could start rolling (my term for speeding). We pulled around a slow moving farm truck and there were two police officers in the road. They just let someone else go, looked up and saw us. To the side of the road we went following all their hand gesturing. Out with all the documents. Answer a hundred questions. At first I didn’t realize they were sizing us up to determine which scam to use.

They didn’t like my divers license copy I gave them. These guys were experienced. That same drivers license got me through four border crossings. They kept asking for the original. I told them that was the original. I had read of other people who have had locals dressed as police officers who would take your drivers license and hold onto it until they could get the money they wanted. I had a copy just in case I had to leave without it. They eventually settled on having my copy and the original of my International Drivers License. They had what they needed so the scam started. They told me I had committed a serious infraction of Nicaragua’s laws. They said they saw me pass another vehicle over a solid line (yeah, like there are any consistent lines out here!) I played the role of the dumb tourist and kept saying I didn’t comprehend. They started drawing out this scenario of two lanes with a solid lane in the middle and a vehicle passing another. I kept asking them to draw it again. I found this amusing. They ran out of paper and one guy started drawing it on his hand. I really found this amusing and asked them to do it again. With his hand almost fully on ink I shook my head in agreement that I now understood. However, I took the pen from him and redrew the middle lane in his hand with a dashed line. Now he was really going to town with his pen drawing on his hand. The point was made that I wasn’t going to be intimidated and give in too easily.

We finally got to the bottom of this. They maintained that I made a serious infraction and they would take my licenses and send them into their headquarters in Managua (they now realized we were wanting to go to Costa Rica and Managua was in the opposite direction. New lesson – tell police that you are eventually headed back in the direction from which you came).  Since the elections were coming up I would have to go to Managua and wait for five days so I could pay the reduced fee of $150.00. I could see Clara very uncomfortable with the notion of returning to that city for even five minutes. I tried to indicate to her not to worry that I understood what was going on and everything would be alright without saying such in front of these two scandals.

The entire time I remained polite, unrushed and easy going. After about 15 minutes, and for the sake of time, I let them know that I understood the charges they were making and that I was willing to return to Managua and wait for five days so I could discuss this with their supervisor. They looked at me strangely and reiterated five days, elections, chaos, etc. I said, “no problemo.” That moved them into phase two of the scam a little quicker. If I didn’t want to wait five days I could pay them on the spot and get my licenses back and continue. I said I would return to Managua. “No,” they insisted. They said because of the elections and everything going on they would reduce the fine to $100.00 if I would pay them now. We’re starting to get somewhere. I said I don’t have $100.00. They wanted to know how tourists traveling multiple countries could not have a hundred dollars in cash. I kept negotiating but the lowest I could get them to was $50.00. 

It was time for one of the mugger wallets. I left home with my wallet and two mugger wallets that contained out of date credit cards and about twenty dollars in cash. I pulled out one such wallet and opened it up in front of them. I had a twenty and four one dollar bills. I told them that is all I had. That was enough. They happily returned my licenses and wished me well as I traveled on to Costa Rica. Before we got going again they pulled someone else over.

It is unfortunate that these kinds of things happen. It is Latin America’s version of the mob. Scams are everywhere but it seems like everyone who travels through Central and South America has a story like this. Therefore, it is much too prevalent. Obviously, people in power are looking the other way. I lost twenty four dollars but I was entertained by the whole process. I also got a chuckle riding down the road and thinking about all the ink on that guy's hand.

The nighmare in Managua and then this. We were ready to leave Nicaragua. We didn’t know what faced us ahead.

Oh my gosh! This was the worse border crossing to date. We were immediately surrounded by more than a dozen people trying to offer us their services. All saying it is impossible to cross with border without their help. This was the biggest border crossing we had seen and there was activity everywhere. It was extremely complicated. There were long lines of cars and trucks. It was hot. And we were clueless.

I had a good experience with an agent at the previous border so I elected one of the large crowd that followed us everywhere to be an agent. Usually, everyone else disappears at that point. In this case many of them stayed close. It was uncomfortable.

The agent quickly took us through five stations. It has never taken so much effort to leave a country. We had to stop and get a copy of a certain form, pay an exit tax, get our passports stamped then deal with the bike. The bike had to clear customs and two police inspections. The agent said we had to use other agents to make these things happen quickly. I felt embarrassed but the agent did take us right up to the front of the line. We had a piece of scratch paper that had to get signed by four different people. None of this made any sense but we did get out of Nicaragua within about 15 minutes while many others were still in the process. I made a mistake by tipping the agent at this point. He insisted on another tip for the police officer who passed everyone else to inspect the bike first. He then said he could not go into Costa Rica and he passed me onto to another agent, a friend of his. This agent had to have two others help him the entire time. One of them was particularly annoying to Clara but he did speak the best English.

I thought that entry into Costa Rica would be easier than the borders we had crossed thus far. However, it was as complicated as getting out of Nicaragua. We had our passports stamped and paid the entry fee of about $25.00 for the motorcycle. We had to have the bike sprayed (no fee) and go through three police inspections before finally getting to customs. There is no question that the agents helped us do this much more quickly than we could have on our own. However, I had only a few dollars left after tipping the guys in Nicaragua. Once we were finished I showed them what I had left and gave them what amounted to about a dollar a piece. The guy who was bothering Clara was left with some Mexican pesos. Clara took some pleasure in that. They were not happy. I expressed to them how we didn’t like the service of being passed on to so many different agents and if I had known that would have happened I wouldn’t have given all my tip money to their friends in Nicaragua. I told them to take up their grievance with their friends. That seemed acceptable to them and they headed back toward Nicaragua.

You face some uncertainty when traveling to a country where you cannot speak the language well. I think the agents we used this time actually made the process more complicated in an effort to make their services appear more useful. Extra stops and signatures on scratch paper just didn't seem right. It felt like there were multiple little scams going on. However, moving to the front of lines certainly saved time.

The day was filled with interesting moments. However, not all in Nicaragua was bad. The last ten miles or so we rode along the western shoreline of Lake Nicaragua. It is a huge, beautiful lake that you cannot see across. At one point we saw a huge mountain and volcano in the distance and thought that must be the other side. We looked at the map and realized they were two islands. We saw no development to speak of anywhere on the lake. I don’t know why but something tells me that won’t last long.

For Clara’s sake, I hoped we would have a better time in Costa Rica.

Click here to read about our adventures in Costa Rica.