The trip into Managua was smooth, Audrey slept the entire time, I rented a movie. I did so because of the 18 or so Eastern European girls sitting in front of us that were causing a ruckus, and the baby behind us of unknown origin who could have used some whiskey, or a muzzle. Or both. Poor kid was uncomfortable the entire flight. We arrived Managua about 20 minutes late, or 10 PM Central time. The air was muggy, customs officers unfriendly, and money exchangers ready to rip people off (me) It cost about $85 to exchange $300.
We hopped into a diesel van with our hotel's insignia posted on the outside, and proceded thru the Saturday night Managua traffic. The traffic laws and courtesies are strange here, but makes traffic very efficient. For example, if I were a driver on the road in a rental car, I would be very confused by the horn usage of my fellow drivers. In America, a horn is used as a voice of frustration or warning, here, it is a mere reminder of presence, whether it be to the bicyclists, the horse drawn carraiges, the painted school busses, or the people riding in the back of pickup trucks. More on this later.
We were the only english speakers in the van, and got to hear bits of what we thought were German, French, and definetly Spanish. We followed the main highway from the airport for about 10 minutes, before we dove into the neighborhoods of Managua. The streets are narrow, one lane two way streets with parking on both sides of the road. There is substantial sidewalk, curb and gutter infrastructure everywhere, and is well utilized. After weaving through what I thought were sidestreets, I learned that nearly all of the streets in Managua are this way, we found our destination.
Our hotel was the nicest and cleanest building that we had seen in Managua. After Audrey's language barrier navigation, we were checked in and escorted to our room. A very interesting building, and a more interesting room. Its entire square footage was 140 sqare feet, give or take. It consisted of a bed (double), a small accessory table, a door, and a bathroom using about 30 square feet of the room. Audrey and I shared a chuckle about how when she sat on the toilet to do her business, the door could not shut, because her legs were way too long. Too long is an understatement, she could have put her legs on the bed, and really relaxed while taking care of her necessities. Regardless, a cold shower and a fan on high, and about 3000 miles of travel sent us into slumberland, albeit hot and restless.
When we woke up, we decided it was time to get out of Managua, and move onto our first destination. We checked in with the front desk, and they arranged a taxi to San Juan del Sur for $60 which turned out to be about a 3hr ride. Before our taxi showed, we were served a traditional Nicaraguan breakfast, eggs scrambled with lots of butter, one cup of rice and red beans, and two pieces of white toast with a slice of the most delicious butter ive tasted in some time, and a cup of coffee that was so unique and satisfying it needed no cream or sugar.
We sat on the street and waited for the taxi for about 10 minutes, and I got to take in what Managua's day to day looked like in the light of day. In that ten minutes, I realized the only makes of car on the road were Hyundai, Kia, and Toyota, with a whole bunch of motorcycles and bicycles to boot. There were also a few human driven rickshaws that were produce and rice delievery services. People don't care about what the speed limit is, what the direction of the street is, or where the cops are; they do what they want to do in their vehicles. This was personified by our taxi driver, Guillermo.
The taxi man was gracious, friendly, and patient with my inability to speak much spanish. He spoke no english, but we all still had a nice time. Another tip of the cap to Audrey for being able to break the ice, confirm the price, and get us into a safe, but very informative ride to San Juan del Sur.
Guillermo discussed his love for Nicaragua, his passion for his country's future, and the relationship with neighboring countries. In summary, he is supportive of the tourism, supportive of the canal, and supportive of competiton with Costa Rica and Panama for economic growth within Nicaragua. He took us on a scenic route to a town called Catalina, which offered plants of all kinds for sale, unique well built handmade furniture from both stone and wood, and a variety of art (trinkets and lawn ornaments) for sale. There was also a fantastic viewpoint, which highlighted a Volcano, a lagoon inside a crater made by said volcano, and Grenada far off in the distance. The Volcano was tall, the lagoon was as pure and blue and you could imagine, and the wind was howling.
The road trip was the highlight of my morning. The max speed was 80 km/hr, but everyone did over 100. There were transports of all types, mostly bicycles, horsedrawn cairrages, and taxis, with quite a few busses and large semis hauling harvested goods up and down the road. Never have I seen so many different ways of getting around share the same roadway. Further, I have never seen such chaos so well policed by the users, and not by the police. If this street were in America, the speed limit would be cut in half, the stops by police would be one per kilometer, and there would probably be the same if not more amount of accidents and deaths.
After much discussion with our driver, and too many American pop songs made spanish, we made it to San Juan del Sur. We decided to get dropped off at a party hostel called Pacha Mama, which was started and is owned by a guy I know from Boise. He had the day off, but we found a comfortable room of larger size and similar accomidations for $30. We checked in, Dropped our bags, and took some time to decompress. We had arrived.
We decided it would be a good idea to stretch our legs, so we went and checked out the beach, and the restaurant faire accompanying it. The beach was beautiful and crowded with tour boats, swimmers, and many boats moored in the harbor despite the wind. We took some photos, and decided on a late lunch. I ordered rice and chicken, which was good, Audrey had fried fish and french fries (fries were supposed to be plantains). The food was decent, but the Tona's were magnificent. Tona is one of Nicaraguas national beers, a lager served in a tall brown bottle with a skunky corona like nose with a smooth, Stella like finish. It tastes good, and is served very cold, and costs 30C$ or 30 cordobas (about $1) Thereafter, we walked about, bought some beach "towels" and went back to the hostel. We wanted to have another beer there, but the bar was closed, so we took a nap instead.
When we woke, we were hungry again, so we went back to where there is much more variety, and less of the tourista feeling. There we found a whole variety of restaraunts, but settled on a small steak and taco joint called "republika." There we had mojitos, (2) rum and cokes (2) a taco, and some chips and guacamole. Our total tab with tip was 400C$ or about $15. I didnt eat much, but found a taco shack down the street where I got three chicken tacos for 90C$. They were delicious, and had a sweet, spicy flavor to them. A meal for just over $3 tasted even better becuase of the price.
Now I am downstairs in the lobby of the hostel, hearing all kinds of languages being spoken, lots of drunk people calling it a night, and the bouncer kicking anyone out that doesnt have a wristband. It is strange, becuase in a way, he is the sex police, watching over any innocent 22 year old without a black wristband. They are not allowed upstairs, no matter what. With that, I'll call it a night, take care out there, and just know, we both feel great, are getting towards relaxation, and miss you all very much.
P.S. apologies for typos, run-ons, incompletes, and the like. Its dark, and im on vacation.
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