We left San Jose on a 7:30 am bus. We were both sleepy and neither of us
remembered to bring food. We didn’t
think that would be a problem, but then, we didn’t realize that the bus would
be a six hour trip with no stops. We
also didn’t realize we were supposed to have been at the station an hour
early. Thanks to the privilege of youth
and/or beauty, the ticket people made concessions for Sophie, and we were
allowed to board.
While we were paying taxes and going through all the
assorted formalities associated with crossing the border in a Central American
country, Sophi was able to go and get a ham sandwich for me. Unfortunately, she doesn’t eat ham, so she
got some chips, and she got water for both of us. This held us over until 3 pm when we were at
the Nicaraguan border and the driver let us get some trail mix out of my
bag.
The border crossing was incredibly tedious. It was slow, it was disorganized, and we were there about 45 minutes. They collected our passports, then we had to
go through customs and get our declaration stamps, then we had to come back out
to the bus and get our bags. Then they
took them through an X-ray machine, then
we reclaimed the bags and loaded them back on the bus. Somewhere in the process they took our passports
(something I’m always leery of, but especially in Central America) and then we
waited in the sun for about 30 minutes until they decided to come and bring us
our passports.
During this time the vendors
swarmed upon us trying to give us money to change, trying to sell us phone
cards, trying to sell peanuts, cashews, and I don’t know what else. We did buy something to eat that was a
tortilla with white cheese and onions in vinegar. It was horrible. They
had sandals for sale, they had people
driving little rickshaws, all kinds of stuff.
While it was pretty fascinating to watch, it was indicative of the
poverty of the region and the desire for US dollars. Quite frankly, I was kinda
OD’d on this from the coupla days I’d spent alone in Jamaica. You develop the ability to deal with it, but
it still grieves you in your spirit.
There’s just SO much desperation.
We got back on the bus and rode
another 40 minutes or so to Rivas, where we got off. There we were accosted by
people with rickshaws trying to give us a 40-minute ride to the ferry terminal
for $10. Thankfully we found a Christian taxi driver who decided to take us for
$8. We got to talk about the goodness of God on the way, as I began to realize
that our Christian jargon is just that, and that I am deficient in that jargon
in Spanish.. We drove to the ferry
terminal and got off to buy our tickets to the ferry across to the island of
Ometepe. Of course there were people trying to be tour guides, trying to sell us tours and all manner of
nonsense. They tried to get us into hotels, sell us packages, and all sorts of
stuff. Had I not been with Sophi (or had
I not done my research and known there were accomodations on the island in ALL
price points), I probably would have listened to them, but we ignored them and
got on the ferry.
The ferry was a very
choppy ride, about 45 minutes, but it
was enjoyable and we got good pictures of the volcano. After we got to the
volcano we were once again accosted by people trying to sell us rides and this
and that and the other. We decided to go
with a guy who had a van and was willing to take us into the island for $5
apiece. He also took us to a hotel where
we got rooms for $10 a night. The rooms
are very basic -- there is no AC, there are private bathrooms but I don't know
what is going on with the shower -- but
it's $10 a night so I can't really complain.
We were going to contract with the taxi driver for tomorrow but instead
we've decided that we're going to rent scooters and drive around town so we'll
see how that goes.
It is quarter to 9 in the evening
and I am exhausted so I am going to go to bed., I just wanted to write (or
dictate) these thoughts down before I forgot them.
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