Someone who travels with a suitcase.

If you like comfort if you like to travel in style then you need to take a bus. Some bus companies (e.g. Hedman) provide super fancy buses equipped with super fancy latest gadgets, bathrooms, bed like seats, foot/head/armrests, blankets, pillows, air con, snacks… AND… they are cheaper than the shuttle.

So, why don’t I take a bus? Because buses operate only between bus stations. There is no pickup and there is no drop-off. To get to the bus station and later from the bus station to my new destination I need to take a taxi.

Traveling with a suitcase is stressful enough. Traveling with a suitcase and having to deal with 50 years old piece of junk called the taxi and taxi drivers too smart for their own good is a tad more than I like to handle. Immobilized by my suitcase I am the target and, quite frankly, I hate to put myself in a vulnerable situation. Add to that the messy and sweaty job of dragging/pulling the suitcase on a dirt ‘paved’ station while looking for the right bus. Nah, thank you very much. Not a good way to start a trip. I’d walk to the station… if I only had a backpack. But I don’t. so I take a shuttle.

Shuttles take about 12 people. No fancy gadgets, not much room leg, in fact, no much room at all (unless you sit right behind the driver), but 3-5 hours on the road is easy enough to manage. You can add few hours if the shuttle is half empty or if you are half the age. 

It is 680 km between León in Nicaragua and Antigua in Guatemala, four borders, and 14-16 hours on a two-lane (one lane in each direction) pretty bad (most of the time) and busy road. My plan was to travel 4-5 hours at a time, make a two, three-day stopover in Honduras and then in El Salvador before reaching my final destination in Guatemala. The ‘master plan’ behind it was not only to make the trip easier on my bones but (above all) to take a glimpse at the two no-go zones – Honduras and El Salvador. A little adrenaline kick. 

Things didn’t quite work out as planned. There was nowhere to stop in Honduras. There was no town, no village, no hotel en route to Guatemala where the shuttle could drop me off and later pick me up. If I wanted to stop in Honduras, I’d need to travel some 14 hours to the Caribbean side (wrong direction) or take a chicken bus and go offroad which was not an option. Thus, I had to abandon my wish to spend time in Honduras and traveled directly to El Tunco in El Salvador.

Border crossing

Note: the shuttle leaves León at 2 a.m. (not fun). The same time also applies from the other direction – Antigua. 

Crossing all four borders went smooth – another advantage of taking the shuttle. 12 people vs 50 can save a good few hours. In addition, whenever possible, the drivers do the job for you: collect passports and exit/entry fees so you don’t even have to leave the van. They all speak English and, if need be, help with translations and assist with immigration. Should there be a problem at the border, the shuttle will wait for you. The bus will not.

Nicaragua

NOTE VISA: when you enter one of these four countries, Nicaragua, Honduras, El Salvador, Guatemala, you enter them all: that is you need only one visa (if you need any) to enter the foursome. Also, the total time you can stay in the area is three months – you will not get another three months just because you e.g. leave Honduras for El Salvador.

Nicaragua EXIT – very easy. Fee 7 USD. (4 for Nicaragua exit and 3 for Honduras entry). The driver collected all passports and exit/entry fees. We stayed in the van. The whole procedure took maybe 15 minutes.

Honduras

Honduras ENTRY. Potentially most time-consuming border. We were lucky – first ones to arrive. Only one immigration window was open. We were photographed and fingerprinted. All in all 40 minutes. A bus full of people can waste a good few hours on this border.

note 1: VERY IMPORTANT – make sure you have your fingerprints taken otherwise it may cost you 200 USD in penalty/bribe during exit. Sometimes people traveling on chicken buses miss that moment (and I wonder if they are not deliberately misled into doing that). Make sure you are not one of them.

note 2: try not to lose the small pieces of paper immigration officers put into your passport

Entering Honduras was like entering another planet. We almost drowned in the sea of rubbish. Plastic bottles, paper, wrappings. containers – you name it. Shocking. I never saw anything like that. The road was very bad and boring. Other than dead trees along the way, on either side, there was nothing else to see. Depressing.

Honduras EXIT – no glitches. No fees. They matched out fingerprints with the ones taken during entry. Make sure you have your fingerprints taken during entry.

El Salvador

El Salvador ENTRY – walk in the park. No fees. Some 10 immigration windows open. This border is nicknamed ‘the easy one’.

Entering El Salvador felt like leaving a bad dream behind. Only a few hundred meters in the country we stopped at the gas station to fill up the tank and to have a breakfast. I wasn’t going to have any. But once I saw the station and the breakfast they served I changed my mind. Super modern and spotless place serving fresh just cooked appetizing looking, deliciously tasting breakfast. And they charged in USD. Like Panama, El Salvador adopted USD as its own currency. I couldn’t resist.

Three hours later we arrived at El Tunco, a beach resort on the Pacific coast and my ‘fun in the sun’ place for the next three days. Three days later the shuttle once again picked me up and I continued my journey to Guatemala. 

note: the shuttle is scheduled for 12 (ish), however, it may be delayed if there were some border issues or tons of traffic – after all, it comes all the way from León in Nicaragua. We left on time. (If the eventual delay is substantial they send another shuttle to meet the delayed one.)

Guatemala

El Salvador EXIT: walk in the park. No fees

Guatemala ENTRY: walk in the park. No fees. It took four hours from the start in El Tunco to the drop off in Antigua.

Security

“It is safe here BUT if you go to X… then ...” Then I go to X … and they tell me exactly the same thing. Over and over again; in Panama, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Honduras, El Salvador, Guatemala.

So I asked some more, this time in Facebook groups. And ‘they’ tell me “Don’t go“, “Are you crazy?”, “I would never go“. “I have heard this, and I have heard that“, “My friend told me“, and so on and so forth. El Salvador and Honduras are no-go zones – by second, third, fourth hand accounts. Not once did anyone tell me: “This happened to ME while visiting X“. All the stories, every single one of them, were referring to other people’s accounts. 

The very few blogs I found written by people who actually visited the no-go zone countries were nothing but positive. They all described humble, welcoming and generous people who only wanted to show the beauty of their countries and to help.

… and the rumors?

What about the rumors of shuttles (used almost exclusively by tourists) traveling at night being targeted by gangs? It happened once or twice many years ago that a gang held up and robbed the shuttle but it is an extremely rare occurrence. If anything, the chicken buses are at more risk. 

What about tourists being mugged at knifepoint? That can happen anywhere in the world if you’re dumb enough to stroll a no-go zone alone and drunk in the middle of the night. 

Ok then, so what about the statistics? According to the statistics, the triangle Honduras, El Salvador, Guatemala is one of the most violent regions in the world; according to the statistics, Honduras is rated today as number one homicide country in the world (it used to be El Salvador) and its current political unrest makes matters even worse; according to the statistics …

All true, HOWEVER, all those crimes are drug and gang dominance related. So, unless you are a gang member, sell drugs, or walk around alone at 2 a.m. drunk and vulnerable you have nothing to worry about. For extra precaution don’t travel at night and don’t show off all your bling – but, as anywhere else in the world, use common sense. Amen.

And above all – enjoy your trip and have fun. 

p.s. Happy Birthday Linnea

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The two cities have been fierce rivals ever since the day they were founded by Spanish colonialists. Be it capital town privileges, number of historic churches, spectacular residences or this or that. It never ends. Until now?

Even though León is the second largest city in Nicaragua, home to the second oldest University of Central America and the largest cathedral in Central America, political center of Nicaragua, cradle of Nicaraguan nationalism (Sandinista Front) proudly documented on numerous murals, the nation’s intellectual and cultural center attracting many students, artists, poets, and most probably plenty of other things I don’t know about… still, the vibe of the city feels more like a vibe of small provincial village in the middle of nowhere than a prominent city.

I found León ugly, dirty and poor. Over 200.000 people living in the same dirty grey looking one-story houses on very much the same dirty grey looking streets. Only a few houses have a fresh coat of paint. The rest is… dirty grey. Once you leave the center (I imagine) the only difference you may notice will be different shades of grey. With only a few exceptions, all cars, including police cars, are wrecks that belong in the junkyard and not on the streets. Locals seem to love their local beer more than anything else. Bars begin to fill up first thing in the morning and are busy all day long. What a contrast from smoothie drinking Costa Rican men. The climate is much hotter than in other places I visited with almost no breeze at all.

(As they say) beauty in the eye of the beholder. León was not easy on my eye. Not as bad as Masaya, which is my least favorite town in Central America, but not much better. Other than the cathedral, few old grey churches, and maybe few murals there isn’t so much to see or do. This could be the reason why most tourist attractions concentrate on out-of-town activities and not the city itself. The tourists that come to visit, almost exclusively backpackers, come for volcano trekking and volcano boarding. After that experience, a 30-minute bus ride to the beach is ‘on the menu’. And then off they go to the next place. Either Granada or El Tunco in El Salvador – depending on which way they travel.

On a positive note:

• it never is all bad, sometimes it is a good idea to come to less attractive places and catch up on other things, e.g.the blog.  

• León was the first city in Central America where I felt safe. And it wasn’t only me – in no other place did I see so many DSLRs hanging around visitors’ necks as in León. Yet there were hardly any police around. The few policemen I saw looked friendly and didn’t carry shotguns with them. I had no problem walking alone and taking pictures after sunset, an activity I  was very uncomfortable doing in all other Central America cities.

• I spend my week in León in a hostel, in a private but hostel, nonetheless. Casa Ivana turned out to be just renovated, one dorm, 7 privates hot water hostel attracting older travelers and owned by a super nice Dutch guy.

  Traveling solo can at times be lonely. I needed to meet other travelers, exchange information and above all hear from people arriving from Honduras and El Salvador the real stories and the latest news about current political unrest in Honduras (ranked (by far) number 1 homicide country in the world) and gang activities targeting tourists in El Salvador (ranked 4 – used to be 1)  as both of those countries are my next destination…

… And I am leaving in one hour. Stay tuned. 

León in Pictures

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Colonial Masterpiece

The master plan behind colonial houses (and cities) was the safety of families and their household animals (and the city itself, or maybe the other way around). 

Thus, a typical colonial house is not just one house but (surprise, surprise) two; two parallel houses facing one street each, 50, 100, 200 meters away, North/South or East/West. And between the houses – the jewel of colonial living – a courtyard. The bigger the better – the bigger the courtyard the bigger the house(s). The super rich may have not two but four houses surrounding all four sides of a giant courtyard. Large or small, a courtyard is always the heart of the household. A kingdom with chilling “city walls” on the outside and steamy hot family life on the inside. 

Granada, Central American colonial jewel, is undergoing a major facelift. Many of the houses have already been (beautifully) refurbished, many others are in the process of being refurbished, other ones… still in waiting. Some of them are sold to expats, some of them are turned into hostels, other ones into restaurants. Regardless of occupants and modernizations – one thing remains intact – the courtyard.

The courtyard is a center point of every colonial house, a natural place where families and friends or hostel guests gather (often by the pool these days). All restaurants, besides the sidewalk tables, have extra sittings in their courtyards for the guests who enjoy the more private setting. Family life and all household work in private residences take place in the heart of the house – in the courtyard. 

(My) Colonial Living

During my visit to Granada, I rented an Airbnb room in a colonial house and thereby an opportunity to glimpse into colonial living which was both fascinating and very educational.

There were only three people in my house; my host – a guy of maybe 35, his mother and the mother’s sister. Their house (the green one), other than the fresh paint, doesn’t look much for the world, does it? But once you enter it…

Colonial Interiors (the first house)

Once you enter a colonial house, you typically come directly into a large room (which could be turned into a shop or some other business today), followed by another large room(s)  and/or dining room, tv-room. They just come, one after another. The larger house the more rooms. The kitchen is at the end, right at the back of the house. Then comes the courtyard. There are no doors between the rooms. In larger houses, there may also be a couple of other smaller rooms, with doors, (former maids quarters?) handy today as extra bedrooms. Master bedroom along with one or two or more extra (bed)rooms are upstairs. Behind a lovely and breezy deck with a hammock facing the yard. Hammocks can be found everywhere; on decks, landings, courtyards and even inside rooms. 

Colonial Courtyard

Once you enter the courtyard you also enter another world. There are trees, flowers, garden furniture for family gatherings, a playground for kids, maybe even a pool. There is also another kitchen with BBQ, laundry facility, open air dryer, bathroom, store rum and whatever else a family may need. In refurbished houses, people install extra bathrooms inside and a pool in the courtyards.

The courtyard is a center of all activities. Work and pleasure.  

The master planners seemed to have thought about everything incl sanitation. Not to jeopardize families’ health the courtyards were big, as big as only possible. Families used to keep household animals incl horses in their courtyards – some may still do it even today. There is no shortage of horses in Granada. Some of them ‘work’ for the tourist industry but most of them are mere means of transportation for families and goods.

When I arrived there were three hens in ‘my’ courtyard but vanished later. I guess they were all part of Christmas dinner.

My host family didn’t use the indoor kitchen. Not for the cooking. Most of the cooking took place in the courtyard above an open fire. Slow cook camping style. But what surprised me (rather amused) the most was the washing facilities.

Another surprise was the host himself and my stereotyped way of looking at Latino men and their mothers. Well, in this household it wasn’t the mother (or aunt) who did daily chores for their only son/nephew. It was “the baby of the house’  himself who did all his own cleaning (incl Airbnb room), cooking, and laundry, all that besides a full-time job and four-hour commute. A week of laundry takes two hours to wash. Yet he didn’t think there was any need for a washing machine as the current facility (which was just replaced) works way better. 

The (secret) Second House 

The second house is very much a copy of the first one but (often) smaller. I lived in “the second house”. There was only one large bedroom upstairs, no deck with a hammock but a longish landing facing the courtyard and a small balcony facing the other street and (best of all) an en-suite bathroom. Three windows and two doors supplied all the fresh air I needed, and some. A narrow, not more than 50 cm wide spiral flight of stairs connected courtyard with the upstairs. 

The furniture in my room was typical Nicaraguan – wooden chairs and wooden coffee table. Exactly the same furniture you’ll find in every Nicaraguan home. (You’ve seen one you’ve seen them all.)

The living room downstairs was partially my host’s mother’s own tv room and partially… a garage. Doors to the house were large so there was no problem driving the car into the house. Great strategic planning lies behind those large gate-like doors – logistics – to connect the two streets. To make a passage for horses. This is why there are no doors between the rooms. No doors, no hinder for the horses to make a crossing to the other side.

Only luxury hotels have air con. Family homes in Nicaragua and Costa Rica and probably in the whole of Central America use fans. Most of the households, incl hotels/hostels, don’t have hot water. My first encounter with lack of hot water happened in ‘my’ colonial house. What can I say? Not a fan. Another thing I was missing, which is also seldom used in this part of the world, was window/door screen. To keep the few bugs out I had to close all doors and windows at night (5 p,m, ish) and turn on the fan rather than let the natural cool breeze in which would be so much more economical and so much nicer.

Colonial Breeze

Breeze. It is all about letting the cool breeze in. The brilliant construction of the houses helps maximize ventilation by letting the fresh breeze in from both North and South or East and West. The breeziest place in the house seems to be right by the front door. It is where families love to gather. The still better place is right outside on the pavement/steps in front of the house, especially in smaller houses I took a while to understand why would anybody like to sit there. And once again the masterminds of colonial construction proved their brilliance – for once you step outside you’ll get the breeze not only from North/South but also from East/West. 

p.s. Happy New Year

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Waving down buses is a new concept to me but I like being picked up or dropped off any place I choose (as long it is on the bus route). Not sure why (perhaps too many passengers were getting on/off) but the ride took about 40 minutes and not 20 as most travel guides advertise. The fare was a whopping 10 Cordobas (0.32 USD). One way.

We arrived at the bus station right in the middle of the market. Not THAT market. There are two markets in town, the municipal one for locals and the artsy one for tourists but (if the truth be told) the whole downtown is one big market where anything and everything can be purchased and sold.

The layout of the city is almost an exact copy of Granada, including Central Park and the Lake (another lake). Yet the two are not even comparable. Such a contrast to Granada. In Masaya the streets are dirty, houses in desperate need of maintenance, colors long faded, stray dogs in abundance begging for food. No charm anywhere, no picturesque houses, no cozy restaurants or bars. Nothing. Ugly and boring town cluttered with cheap merchandise. I walked Market Street all the way down from the bus station/municipal market to the lake passing by the handicraft market and the Central Park on the way. Most of the walking I had to do on the street as the street market ‘confiscated’ all sidewalks.

Once I passed the Central Park, the street market with all its shops, stalls and people vanished. All of it. I entered an almost deserted residential area with uneasy feeling creeping all over me. I felt very uncomfortable walking alone, didn’t dare to take one single shot and was about to turn around a few times. But my sheer determination kept me going on and, eventually, 10 minutes later I reached the lake or rather very colorful but also almost deserted park/playground for the kids.

The lake was much smaller than in Granada, overgrown with vegetation and not accessible, there weren’t any beaches. The view from the park was nice though. With an exception of a few teenagers just hanging out, there were no people. Maybe locals come later in the day. All cafes but one were closed. I took a few shots and walked back to the street market. This time I stopped at the famous Masaya artisan market. After all, the artisan market was the reason I came to Masaya.

What a disappointment. I repeat. What a disappointment. (Five exclamations marks would be in place here)

Even though the setup was lovely, in old ruins of the ancient market, the hyped Masaya handicraft (super) market turned out to be only a few stalls selling the same staff as the municipal market but for triple prices. Bad, bad, bad shopping. Mostly hammocks, leather bags, and souvenirs you can get anywhere else in Nicaragua.

The best with Masaya Artisan Market were the few eateries serving authentic ethnic dishes. The lunch I had, a stew of some sort, was delicious and worth every penny (4.50 USD)… and a chicken bus ride.

The stew (meat with boiled yucca and pickled cabbage slaw) was served in a rather unusual but (ah) so smart and convenient way. A wooden plate was put into a plastic bag, banana leaf on the top, and food on the banana leaf. An instant doggy bag if you like to take your leftovers with you or trash bag if you don’t. The plastic bag with leftovers is tossed away and clean plate reused. No washing up necessary. Environment-friendly? Not so sure but definitely this way of serving food saves lots of water and time . 

After lunch, I went straight back to the station and took a chicken bus back to Granada. Needless to say, I will not be coming back. I may, however, take another ride on the chicken bus.

Masaya in Pictures

Not too many I am afraid. Masaya is not the best location for shooting pictures. I felt as I had to take more caution than usual. 

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One week of watching the life go by, even in a surfer’s paradise, was more than enough. I felt the time has come to watch the life go by somewhere else and called for the door-to-door shuttle service. 15 USD and 1, 5 hours later I found myself in an entirely different world; Nicaragua’s colonial gem – Granada.

I am not easily impressed but Granada’s colonial past or rather its amazing colonial-era architecture made quite an impression on me. I cannot get enough of the picturesque colorful colonial houses. Green, orange, yellow, blue, purple, pink. Paradise for architecture lovers. Paradise for street photographers.

The city is small and easily walkable. Perhaps five, six square blocks. The Central Park is right in the middle. A pompous Cathedral embellishes one of its corners and most beautiful and colorful colonial houses surround it.  The park (more like piazza with trees than a park) is where the action is, this is where locals meet, this is where kids come to play, this is where people come to watch people. Take a front seat on the deck of Alhambra Hotel and just watch the locals celebrate, kids play, tourists take snapshots, horse drivers wait for clients. Watch the life.

Or take a stroll down Calle La Calzada, the pedestrian street jam-packed with restaurants, connecting the square with the lake. Granada is becoming a true foodie town. No matter which restaurant you choose you will not get disappointed. Even traditionally bland local cuisine tastes good. Most of the establishments offer happy hour, two cocktails/beers for the price of one (1 USD) and small dishes to go along. The later in the day the more customers come by… and so do the vendors. They are very polite and friendly, nothing in comparison with Hue’s hawkers but a nuisance, nonetheless. If you’re looking for total tranquility and/or don’t like to have your dinner interrupted every 30 seconds take a seat in the inner garden. Most restaurants have one. Such is the charm (and convenience) of colonial houses.

The largest lake in Central America and the 19th largest lake in the world, Lake Nicaragua, is only a 10-minute stroll down Calle la Calzada. But don’t expect (as I did) to find breathtaking views and fantastic colonial mansions along the lively beautiful waterfront. Instead get prepared for the deserted, polluted and smelly body of water. No people, no cafes, no activities on the lake. No colonial mansions either. There were only two buildings, one of which was Surfing Donkey hostel where a clean, well ventilated, a mosquito net protected dorm bed with lake view goes for 10 USD including breakfast and pool access. 

Still, the stroll itself is pleasant. The lake is also worth a glimpse. A night stroll along the lake, however, is not advisable. 

What might be worth a stroll is Market Street. It is a few blocks long, very crowded and difficult to navigate street where locals sell/buy anything/everything there is to buy/sell. Fun to watch. watch your kids too. They can easily get lost in the crowd. 

6 p.m. And so this is Christmas. There is a Christmas tree in the park, there are few Feliz Navidad (Merry Christmas) signs here and there. Firecrackers go off from time to time while people are still going about their everyday business. This is it.  

No Christmas carols. No Christmas spirit. Just a silent night (with an exception of crackers going off). 

9 p.m. I hear the music. Latino music. More and more firecrackers go off and they are louder. People of Granada have begun to celebrate Christmas  … in the privacy of their homes and in the company of their families.  My Airbnb host just invited me to join his family for dinner. Merry Christmas everyone.

And so this is Christmas
I Hope you have fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young

Colonial Granada

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The village itself is cute(ish), almost picturesque, Latino colorful, lively and very intense as 68 restaurants, countless convenience stores, pharmacies, banks, hostels, market, orange painted church and all sort of other small businesses are jam-packed in a 3-4 block wide and 3-4 block long area. You cannot get lost. No matter where you go/walk (incl the beach) it will not take longer than five minutes to get there. There is also a gas station on the way out of town and a supermarket if you feel like taking a long 10-minute walk. It will be, however, a walk for the walk’s sake as the supermarket doesn’t have anything more/better to offer than the village pulperias (family run convenience shops). 

My Airbnb was only one minute from the orange painted church, right on the border of ‘downtown’ and residential area giving me access to both worlds. It was pure joy sitting on my very own private deck in the breeze (or lying in a hammock), catching up on my writing and (remote) social life but (above all) enjoying the people watch while observing the colorful real-life pass by in front of my eyes. Oh, what a treat that was.  

The barking dogs, crowing roosters, and cackling hens never miss a wake-up call. Some people wake up some don’t. One gets used to the noise after a while. If not, turn up the fan a notch. Once the locals are up, they sit in their pajamas on the street drinking coffee and chatting with each other. Vendors walk the streets selling anything from home-cooked meals to toilet paper, from underwear to full-size matrasses, even Christmas gifts. Every morning a milkman riding a horse and carriage arrives at your door selling fresh milk. A couple of hours later trash truck comes and so does bulky refuse collector. Easy life. Unless you want to, there is no need to leave the house to go shopping as everything can be delivered right to your door. Why go to the market if the market can come to you?

The downtown, the full three-four square blocks of it is rather sleepy during the day but fills up after the sunset. Barefoot backpackers go partying and drinking one dollar beer while locals take their kids to the park in front of the church for some fun and games.

To my surprise, there are hardly any stray dogs walking the streets and no cats at all. Another surprise was a funeral procession which I mistook for the carnival party. Pop music on full blast followed by a cheerful crowd. If not for the hearse leading the procession, I’d think they were all celebrating.

There are minimum 1.500 expats in the community (could be many more) living typical expat life; setting up new businesses, starting new families or just enjoying retirement. Americans, Canadians, British, German, even few Swedes. As anywhere else in the world they meet for trivia on Mondays, brunch on Sundays, some other activity some other day. In fact, bar owners organize various expat activities every single day.

Regardless of our perception of the world, things do work even in the third world countries. Free clinic in the village is appreciated by locals, expats, and tourists. Likewise free yoga classes and pool access in town’s fanciest hotel. Water, electricity and internet work pretty well – most of the time. All parks provide free wi-fi and free electrical sockets. The power outages do happen but not that often and not for long. Instead of air-con, drafty Nicaraguan (and Costa Rican) houses provide more than enough natural breeze. 

And talking about the breeze. I used(?) to love breeze and wind. Sitting on a speedboat embracing the wind was(still is?) one of my great pleasures. I am afraid the ‘generous winds’ of Central America might have changed all that. I got more, much more than what I bargained for. The freezing cold wind roaring 24-7 through Central Valley in Costa Rica blew me out of the country. The stormy, 24-7 breeze in San Juan del Sur no longer feels pleasantly cooling but makes me wonder ‘will it ever stop?’  Too much of a good thing…

Not sure if it is the windy season or, it is just the way it is but right now the winds never stop. What a pity, for the Nicaraguan weather  – warm with moderate humidity – could have been perfect if it wasn’t for the gusty winds. However, on a positive note – the surfers must love it, I guess.

Oh yes, almost forgot. The surfing and the beaches. San Juan del Sur is a beach town. In other words, there is a beach in town. But hardly any surfers. In fact, there is hardly anyone on the beach and even fewer people in the water. Black muddy sand and blackish looking cold Pacific waters don’t look so inviting. Not exactly a paradise. (I know I am spoiled.) So the beach is primarily used as a happy hour (followed by ladies night) hung out where backpackers and locals come to party and to drink themselves silly in one of many beach restaurants and bars. (Talking of which … do you know most Costa Rican men drink smoothies with their restaurant meal as opposed to beer or other alcoholic beverage?) 

If you like to surf you need to take a 5 USD shuttle (open pickup truck) to the Maderas Beach 30-minute ride away. But if you like white sandy beaches and crystal clear warm water you need to go to the Caribbean side of Central American countries as there isn’t one along the Pacific. (Not of paradise quality.)

San Juan del Sur

The Maderas Beach

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5 a.m. pick up doesn’t sound like much fun and it isn’t. But this is the time, Caribe Shuttle leaves San Jose for Nicaragua. I missed the beaches in Panama. I missed the beaches in Costa Rica (the nice ones) so this time I made sure I will not miss the beaches in Nicaragua too. Thus this time I made sure I went directly to my beach destination with no ‘stopovers’ on the way. 

Cannot recall having ever so much fun crossing any border as I had at Costa Rican/Nicaraguan. Other than having to show my passport over and over again it was the usual routine at Costa Rican border but once I crossed it (on foot), once I entered Nicaragua … OMG … party in full swing. Vendors everywhere; tons of people; taxis, buses, vans parked all over the place; music playing on full blast; even clowns entertaining arriving/leaving travelers. It felt like a carnival market somewhere in the Caribbean and not the border.

The trip itself took six hours and was uneventful, In fact, it was quite boring. Nothing to see and nothing to do. Trees, trees, and more trees. Bring your own entertainment to kill the time.  Other than that? Things worked like a clockwork. We had to change the van twice; once in a town called Liberia and once at the border as tourist vans may not cross over. The only ‘event’ worth mentioning was an unbelievable scene of hundreds and hundreds of trucks forming a ten-kilometer long cue on a two-lane road (one lane in each direction) waiting to cross the border which (apparently) takes one week to accomplish. Just hope they don’t transport fresh fruit. Traffic the other way wasn’t moving either as we drove against it for good 15 minutes yet didn’t have to stop once to let the incoming trucks (or cars) through.

Changing vans in Liberia was like a walk in the park and the drivers took care of the luggage. Changing vans at the border was more of a hassle as you need to walk on foot with your luggage some 200-300 meters. But it worked. I managed without a problem to pull/drag my 23-kilo heavy suitcase on a (with an exception of the last 10 meters) quite presentable paved road.

Caribe Shuttle costs 70 USD and is the only door to door, ‘direct’ service from Costa Rica to Nicaragua. There are other, much much cheaper alternatives, but not as convenient as you need to get to the bus station in San Jose, change not only bus but also bus stations in Liberia which requires a taxi ride and once you cross the border on foot, you need to take yet another bus or taxi to your final destination in Nicaragua. 

Note: It costs 8 USD to exit Costa Rica (bargain as the departure tax at the airport is a whopping 29 USD) and 13 USD to enter Nicaragua though you get a receipt for only 10. (Hmmm)

Same, same but different? You bet. Three siblings yet so unlike. The only thing Panama, Costa Rica and now also Nicaragua seem to have in common is gallo pinto (rice and beans).

It was, in fact, the Caribe Shuttle itself that surprised me with the second taste (after the border crossing) of the trio’s individual approach to life and order. Same company, same type of van yet so contrasting procedure. The luggage no longer went in the back but on the top. Top of the roof. I didn’t want my suitcase up there so the driver put it next to him in the passenger seat. And why not? The seat was vacant… half the way.

Following all the chaos at the border, I never expected to find the road leading to my destination so … first world country(?). But what surprised me the most were the countless wind turbines along the way. Quite a scene in a third world country.

I arrived at my Airbnb at 12.30, dropped off the suitcase, exchanged a few pleasantries and as soon as it was only feasible asked my host: “Which way to the beach?” and run off to check out the hottest spot in the country,  the best surfing paradise in Latin America, a fishing village turned A Tourism City of Nicaragua – San Juan del Sur.

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