We stayed in San Pedro Sula for 3 nights, awaiting our connecting bus. We went out a couple of times in the day, but in the evenings everyone generally stayed put inside the hostel. There was a good atmosphere amongst the guests but everyone felt it was like being inside prison, the high barbed wire fences and security cameras hinting at troubles outside. Even the guests who had spent longer than us in Honduras said they felt particularly unsafe in San Pedro.
Although the final day dragged on, we did eventually get some sleep, only to be woken at 3.30am to be ready for the taxi. Given the high prices, we crammed four of us into a small car for the short drive to the bus station. San Pedro, unlike many Central American cities, has built a large bus station for all the different operators, making it something of a transport hub for the region. By 4.15am we had checked in and awaited our bus. Unfortunately the huge food forecourt was completely shut, so we couldn't pick up a coffee or water to pass the time.
The bus set off at 5am, remarkably on time for a change, and soon we were speeding down the dual carriageway towards the capital city, Tegucigalpa. We both fell back asleep, although the rattling window kept waking Gemma while a pair of knees in my spine prevented me from getting a good rest. At 9am were were in the capital, and took the opportunity to stretch our legs and grab a cold drink. We didn't wander far, Tegucigalpa didn't appear to be much of an improvement on San Pedro.
The only highlight came when we spotted the airport, purely because we had seen a documentary about the worlds 10 most dangerous airports which featured a large segment on the difficulties of landing here. Apparently pilots have to undergo specialist training to land here, and we can see why! The approach is between mountains and requires a steep banking manoeuvre despite fluctuating cross-winds, whilst the end of the runway involved a drop, a motorway and the city!
We eventually hit the border at midday. The conductor, an unusually large muscular man for this area, collected everyone's passports and the $15 fee from tourists. We waited outside the bus for his return but were glad to get back onto the air conditioned vehicle 20 minutes later. Unfortunately it didn't last long, we had to get back off on the Nicaraguan side for a baggage check. When we returned to the bus the burly conductor was waiting with an immigration official and our passports.
We reboarded and everyone began flicking through their passports to see the new stamp. Unfortunately they hadn't stamped inside, just on a border fee receipt, which stated we had paid the $10 border fee. And that really sums up the issue I have with Central America, there are very few people you can trust, it makes you suspicious of everyone you meet. I'm not the most experienced traveller, but I do compare little things to the four months I spent in Africa a few years ago.
Africa has a reputation for graft, but in fact I'd say the situation out here is worse for your average traveller (at government level it may be different of course). In many parts of Africa that I went through you got the feeling that the people were proud that you had chosen their country and wanted to assist you, to ensure you went back with good memories. Here I feel that I can count on one hand the number of people who have demonstrated similar emotions. Often I have thought that maybe I over romanticized Africa, but travelling here has merely cemented Africa's place in my heart.
Back on the bus we resumed the voyage to Managua. After a couple of hours we stopped outside Leon, a number of other backpackers jumped off. We hadn't realised you could get off here, with hindsight we should have grabbed our bags and jumped ship. The bus continued on to the capital of Nicaragua, Managua. When we arrived at the station the taxi drivers fought for our attention, following our guidebooks advice we dived into one for the 60 second drive to our hotel, it's a rough area.
We checked in just as the heavens opened, and dived into our room. The Lonely Planet had called this "our pick" of the places to stay in Managua, which was genuinely stunning. It was awful. We thought we had paid a bit extra to stay in a nicer hotel for Christmas, in fact we had been the victims of a cruel joke. Tired, stressed and not looking forward to Christmas day we both fell asleep, despite the fireworks going off around us, sounding more like a Somme recreation.
Whilst other people around the world were opening presents or tucking into huge festive meals, we awoke and began to check out our surroundings. The hotel hadn't improved on the first impression, and the local area looked even worse. After making use of Skype to call our families we decided to move on to Granada. We hailed a taxi, initially intending to go to a different bus station, but then decided the $40 dollar ride out of Managua would be a suitable Christmas gift to ourselves.
The drive didn't take long, and we checked into a lovely hostel, a beautifully decorated old colonial building, Hungry, we headed out to the most expensive restaurant in town, La Gran Francia, and had a wonderful Christmas Lunch of soups, steaks and cheesecakes. Not the most festive meal ever, but after a week of stress and fear it was a great antidote. Revived, we attempted to have a walk around the beautiful town, but instead headed back to our hostel for a sleep - how festive is that! There is not a great deal I can say about a Nicaraguan Christmas, as we plodded back to the hostel the main square was empty. The only thing that struck us as being any different from other days was the temporary respite from home made firecrackers.
Granada really improved our moods, it felt much safer than anywhere we had been since leaving Guatemala. We visited an old museum, a beautiful church with art and ancient relics, and met up with some friends for dinner one night. After a few days we took a minivan out to Laguna de Apoyo, a lake and nature reserve about half an hour from Granada. We checked into a waterfront hostel and spent a few days relaxing in hammocks, paddling on the lake in Kayaks, and watching out for the local fauna who paid the occasional visit. Apparently 2 days before we arrived they found a tarantula exploring the dorm room.
We returned to Granada for New Years eve. The hostel relaxed their 11pm lights out policy for one night, but most of the guests celebrated at the time of their home country judging by the cheers coming from anyone near a computer. We treated ourselves to another fancy meal, at the Gran Francia - did I mention they do fantastic steaks?
We had a couple more days to look around, but by now we had worked out which were the restaurants to avoid, and had seen most of the towns attractions. We planned to catch a boat to Isla de Omotepe, an island formed between two volcanoes, but having wandered down to the Tica Bus station we discovered that we had to leave Nicaragua on the 3rd January, otherwise we wouldn't be able to get out until the 10th, which might have ruined our plans as we have booked a tour of Costa Rica starting on the 7th.
We're both looking forward to the tour, it's like a holiday within a holiday. We'll be staying in hotels, travelling by private vehicle, and not having to think too much for ourselves. Normally those are the kind of ideals we try to avoid, but as tomorrow marks end of our fourth month on the road we are both going to enjoy not having to make any decisions more strenuous than choosing which drink to accompany our dinner.
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