On Wednesday morning, our alarms got us up at four thirty, four forty five-ish. We packed up the last of our things and were headed out the door by about ten after five. As I was leaving the bedroom, I happened to look down and right by the doorway was...you guessed it, another frickin' spider! Why was I the only one spotting it? Ugh! Contemplating whether or not to even take care of it, the girls decide to get it outside and we headed out for our walk to the bus stop. Like every small road in this town, we stumbled across the crushed rock and dusty road with the stars over our heads and the sound of monkeys howling in the distance. If we didn't know they were monkeys, you would have sworn that the zombie apocalypse was beginning. Eerie, but very cool to hear. The bus stop that we arrived to was very nice; paved with a metal roof, and before I could even get my backpack off, a bus had arrived for the town we needed. The bus schedule listed a five and six a.m. bus and we were shooting for the six o'clock bus, but it was our lucky day, and the five bus was running late. We were loaded onto the old retired school bus by five thirty and now ahead of schedule as we bumped and rattled our way down the dusty countryside for Nacoya.
The sun rose and the sky became warmer and warmer with colors, and before we knew it, we were pulling back into the dirty, loud, and chaotic, Nacoya bus station. We stopped at a little food vendor and had some eggs and gallo pinto for breakfast and then walked a few blocks to the next bus station.
Almost everyone had to use the bathroom before our next long bus ride, so I purchased our tickets while I waited. I was proud to have done it on my own, and all in Spanish. Just like the first bus, we had caught this one at a perfect time and were able to be on the road within five minutes of arriving. This was another old
school bus that would take us from Nacoya to Liberia, where we would board our last bus for the day. The bus ride seemed short this time, and we had arrived to the Liberia bus station. I have noticed bus stations, airports, and any other station of travel like this can be so hectic. Not to mention, we are a group of five so although we are together, we all get asked different things. People literally do everything but pull at you to ask where you're going, if you need a taxi, and trying to get you to come on their bus. Nicki, Erin and Niki, seem irritated and overwhelmed at times, but I envied them, because at least they could understand what the people were shouting. Actually, I haven't decided whether not knowing what they are saying is an advantage or a disadvantage only because at times, it's kind of nice being able to tune it all out.
Again, we timed it perfectly and were able to board the bus instantly. Men stood by the boarding line exchanging colones (the currency of Costa Rica) for the new money of Nicaragua, the cordoba. This time, we climbed aboard a larger bus, similar to a greyhound and headed for the border. It wasn't very crowded like the other busses we had ridden, so I was able to sit alone and spread out across two seats. All morning, I had been too busy taking in the scenery to even care about sleep. It had finally caught up to me though and the moving bus was working it's magic, like a car ride does to a baby. I dozed in and out until the bus came to a stop at the border. Butterflies fluttered around my belly as we got off the bus, just because I wasn't sure what to expect through the immigration process, plus I was nervous to enter a less developed and more poor country.
We started the immigration process by waiting in a line and filling out a half sheet of paper with our information, until about ten minutes later when we entered a government building. It was very similar to our Secretary of State buildings or other government facilities, just without the seating area. When it was my turn, I handed my paperwork and passport under the the glass to the woman and she gave me my exit stamp from Costa Rica and sent me on my way. I was excited to be getting more stamps in my unexperienced passport. The girls I'm traveling with have had to add inserts into their passports for more room like two times already.
From there, we walked past the entrance line into Costa Rica, and toward the Nicaraguan border. People on the outsides of the chain link fence barricades flashed wads and wads of cash in their hand shouting things to get us to exchange our currency with them. We continued to walk the stretch toward the Nicaraguan offices besides lines of semi-trucks, also waiting for entrance. Going through a couple different gates, we had to show our exit stamps to officials and continue on our way. I couldn't believe how unofficial the border walk was. It was just a asphalt and sometimes even gravel driveway leading us to the next country. It was totally limbo. When we finally made it through, we were, of course, BOMBARDED by men asking about taxi services. Everyone was trying to get us to go with their service. A young guy by the name of José offered us a ride with his cab service from the border to Rivas, (about an hour ride), for way too much a person. We walked away figuring a bus would be cheaper than a cab and after following us for a while, José finally met our price offer and helped us through immigration. I don't know what we would have done without him. He basically walked us through the whole process, showing us where to go, how to get through quickest and even communicated with the employees to help us out. He showed us how to wait in line for immigration while one person goes to pay our exit tax of $1. Approaching the Nicaraguan immigration counter, the employee behind the glass collected our passports and prepared our visas. The cost for a visa was six US dollars and we were on our way, except she was totally being difficult. First was, it HAD to be in American dollars, next, it had to be exact change, and paid together as a group. The Spanish speaking girls of our group, along with José argued with her for a little bit because we didn't all have change for each other and stuff, but we finally just had to do it her way to advance. It's those little road bumps where you have to give in that drive me cuckoo because you feel totally take advantage of. All that mattered was that we got our entrance stamps and we were good to go.
Trying to leave the immigration office was overwhelming as people again, bombarded us with snacks and taxis and busses and more. José was a champ in stiff arming them and signaling that we were with him. He leads us to a group of taxis from his company. I took one look at the 1990's street racing looking beaters with signs in the dash labeled 'TAXI' and thought, "No way, José!" Haha. The girls assured me that it was fine and that is what taxis are down here. The guys loaded our things into the trunk and loaded all five of us into the beat up little Mitsubishi Lancer. José said his goodbyes and our driver drove away, feeling like a total badass with five cute American girls in his car. Guys whistled and blew kisses as usual and we hit the open road.
Charlie, our cab driver continued to compliment how beautiful we were for the first five minutes of our drive. We thanked him and the girls started up their usual icebreaker conversation. I just looked out the window at the new country rolling by. We were into the country pretty quickly and I noticed a big difference already in the type of housing. Homes were much more shack looking. To our left, a line of stopped semi-trucks waited for miles and miles to exit the country. Before long, we could see Lake Nicaragua to our right along with the infamous island formed by it's two volcanoes, Ometepe. That was where we were headed and it looked awesome! Windmills lined the coast of the lake, taking full advantage of the renewable energy whipping across the lake.
Charlie was nice enough to stop at an ATM for us as we got to Rivas. He parked on the street corner and we took turns in groups, heading down the street for the bank. A security guard pointed us to the ATM room (ATMs are indoor and in a separate room down here). We waited for each other as we figured out the exchange rate and punched away at the machines, enjoying the only air conditioning we've felt in Central America. Us girls tucked our things away safely in our money belts and returned to the main doors of the bank to break our bigger bills with the cashiers. We had to take a number like at the Secretary of State and wait. I asked the cashier, when it was my turn, if she knew any English and she kind of just shyly shook her head no. She said some, but it wasn't really the case which made a bank transaction interesting. Ha.
We headed back to the taxi and continued to the boat dock. At one point, we had started cheering "Charlie! Charlie! Charlie!" and he was loving it! We pulled up to a boat port in San Jorge, and were bombarded by a guy selling tickets to the boat before we could even pay Charlie. The girls that know Spanish spoke exactly what was on my mind and basically told the dude to hold his flippin' horses! We paid Charlie and arranged our fifty cent ferry ride to the island. Who would have thought this would be such a social moment for us.
Some guys helped us across a crappy wooden plank basically to the ship deck. Thank God it was quick because it was very dangerous and high up and I would have flipped out had I given myself the opportunity to fear.
We dumped our bags in an area on the ship deck and moved to a different area to sit with some guys our age. This was such an unprofessional ferry because we were literally sitting on a metal floor and holding on tight.
We exchanged introductions with Rhed (pronounced Red) from the London area, Sam from Canada and Allister from the Vancouver area. In group introductions like that, so many names are thrown around that you can only retain so many. Sam, of course, was the only one I retained. Turns out, these guys were all traveling alone and had met up a ways back and were headed to the island to meet more of their fellow travelers. They were all on their way south and had been on the road for a couple months so far. We chatted it up with them for the hour ferry ride as Sam sat quietly nursing his, now seasick, hangover. The view from the ferry was amazing and I was sure to snap some pics of the volcanoes as we got closer and closer.
Approaching the shore, we discussed who was staying where, and decided to ride in a taxi together to keep the price down. After an hour of chatting and playing word games on the boat, we seemed like we had known our new friends for a lot longer than we did. A van taxi loaded us up and started to drop us off at our hostels. As our friends hopped out, we said our goodbyes and that we'd hope to see them around the island. Rhed had no one so he ended up coming with us. The cab driver was awesome about driving us from hostel to hostel to find a place with vacancy for six people. We finally ended up at Santa Cruz hostel where they had two more cabañas open. They worked out to be like eight bucks a person. Niki and I got a double and Rhed got a twin, and the other three girls were in a neighboring cabin.
By this point, it was like six at night and we hadn't eaten since the Nacoya bus station so food was very high on the priority list. The main structure of the hostel was a large grass roof pavilion with about six dinner tables and chairs with a full restaurant menu. We ordered smoothies and food, vegetable curry was on the menu for me again and we conversed and got to know Rhed. The girls were working a great conversation to convince Rhed to move to Korea like they did. By the time our dinner came, and we ate, we were ready for bed. It was only like seven o'clock, but it had been a very long day of traveling so we split up and went our separate ways to shower, read, blog, or whatever.
Rhed had gone to meet up with friends at another hostel and Niki and I headed back to the cabin. "So these are the bathrooms I was telling you about," says Niki as she kicks open the bathroom door and flips on the light. "These are the ones where you open, light, and wait a sec to see what scurries." I was so grossed out by the three time spider incident at Dan's that I was hoping for the 'coast is clear' announcement. She announced it was clear and I continued to unpack and put on my PJ's. As Niki, uses the bathroom, I happen to look up at the woodwork on the door jam and my apparently "awesome bug spotting eyes" spot a bug from everyone's nightmares. It was way bigger than at Dan's and totally gross! Niki was able to sneak out of the bathroom without it moving and was just as freaked out by its existence. Once we realized it wasn't going anywhere, I was able to grab a photo of it and zoom in on my camera screen for a safer and more curious look at the creepy crawler. After confirming its nastiness, we knew what had to be done....spider extermination! Nicki the spider saver was not around and this spider was not going to be sharing a room with us. I grabbed my iPhone to document our two minute and fifty some second strategizing and screaming before we finally squashed it with a book. The deal was that if Niki smooshed it, I would get the toilet paper and clean it up. Let me just tell you, that a spider that big isn't full of air. It left a huge gut pile that I had to wipe and sanitize off my book and the woodwork.
From there on out, I wanted to cry. I looked up and down, and left, and right, and all over again. There was no way I was going to be able to sleep with creatures like that around me. A cabin in Nicaragua is, by no means, airtight. Nooks and crannies are everywhere, creating little entry ways for bugs of all types. We looked all over the cabin with my flash light to inspect if there were anymore and there weren't, but I had to get out for a little. I headed to the pavilion for a bit of a breather on Facebook and Skype.
Niki and I pulled down the mosquito net from over our bed when we returned to our room. Magically, the mosquito net around us and my sleep sack (like a sheet sewn like an empty sleeping bag underneath me, I felt, for the most part, in a safe zone. I tried my best not to over think it, and away I went to dreamland.
Photos:
1) In line for immigration
2) Limbo area between countries
3) one of Ometepe's volcanoes
4) Ometepe home
5) funny swan towel found on bed at check-in, which was then rolled up and shoved in front of door at bed time.
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