I have taken a total of about 10 photos this week, and only about three of them are worthy of sharing, so this post has a lot of words and not a lot of photos. Stick with me!! :)
Saturday, after almost a week of staying with some dear friends in San Jose, I said goodbye (to Costa Rican friends as well as to Bethy) and headed solo into Nicaragua. I had been having a rough few days, and really wanted to go home to my real comfort zone, so it was really nice to be able to just relax for a few days with friends. Not quite the same, but when you are traveling in lands completely unknown with people that you know nothing about besides their name, it is pretty close to heaven to be able to see a few familiar faces and be welcomed as part of their "family."
These boys really are like brothers and we had the greatest time making them food and cleaning their house in exchange for a place to stay. ;)
And our food (despite not being very Costa Rican) was pretty much amazing.
I loved staying with them because every night we would sit around sharing our favorite music videos and trying to learn Spanish. They were also really great at showing us around the city and helping with anything and everything we needed.
Besides that, we had the most wonderful valentines day. Our friend Felix got us flowers...
And we got them cheesy Spanish balloons and drew them pictures...
And then after eating our pizza boats we went out to dance but the music was awful so we sat around and talked and drew on the walls...
Such great times with such great people.
The problem with staying in one place, though, is that after you've done everything there you have a lot of time to think, and all I could think about was wanting to go home. So, to occupy my mind, on Saturday morning (after staying up all night because my friends said we had to hang out since it was my last night) at 6:30 in the morning I headed to the Ticabus station for the seven hour drive to Nicaragua. Usually this would be an awful drive, but I didn't notice...I slept almost the whole way. Staying up all night the night before definitely has its plus side...but, saying goodbye never gets easier and the more people I meet and fall in love with the more I just want to move down here forever...
On the bus (In between naps) I talked to an older gentleman. He was an ex-pat who had started traveling in his 20s and hadn't stopped since. He gave life advice and told stories like a grandpa. He said normally he never, ever talks to tourists - he pretends to only know Spanish - but he said that there was definitely a difference between travelers and tourists and I looked cool, so he talked to me. I'm so glad he did, because it is always comforting to hear that traveling really isn't as bad as the news, and people who never travel make it sound. He said to remember three main things he said, and for the sake of remembering them (and they're good!) I'll share:
1) If you want to avoid trouble, do what you're supposed to: follow the law.
2) The best way to screw things up is to lie.
3) "I don't know if ill make a penny in the future, but I wouldn't take a billion dollars for my past."
There you go. Some words from the wise. :)
Anyway, after a quick "hour" drive (haha) through continuously drying lands, we reached the border. I was really not looking forward to the border crossing after so many problems with Panamas crossing, but it was absolutely flawless. We got off the bus, got our passports stamped to exit, got on the bus, gave a ticabus official our passports, drove a bit, got off the bus, got our luggage, put it on a table, pretended to have it checked, (I think the lady was supposed to check inside our bags, but she just waved me through,) loaded our luggage back on the bus, waited about 20 minutes until we got our passports back, and we were on our way. Almost too flawless, but you don't complain when things go right while traveling. The simple border crossing, though, was just one of many signs, that Nicaragua is much lower on the country class totem pole.
As soon as we crossed the border, you could notice huge differences. It was much hotter. Much dryer, flatter, and had tons and tons more cattle farms and countless animals running through the streets. There were a few farm trucks or vehicles, but most people get around with bikes or horses.
The houses were so simple, as we drove, I kept excepting the area to start to look more civilized, but it never did.
We arrived in Rivas where I and grandpa George and a few others got off the bus. George and I said goodbye, and from there, a very pushy Nico grabbed my bags and put them in his cart, insisting that he was going to drive me to San Jorge to catch the ferry to Ometepe Island. He seemed sweet enough, so I got in his cart and he peddled for about 10 minutes before we started to discuss money.
At this point I realized that I didn't remembered the exchange rate, even though I had asked at one point. It doesn't matter that I have been traveling for about three months in the last year, I still make more mistakes than I can count and definitely trust people too much.
Rule number one: know the exchange rate. The nice guy sweating his face off to transport me and my luggage (it was awkward. I'm never doing it again.) told me the ride would cost $2, or 200 cordobas. I only had about 50 cordobas. So he got frustrated because the only cajero was back on Rivas 10 minutes behind me. Luckily I had a 20 dollar bill that I exchanged and paid him. All was well....until I found out how much I actually paid him.
And then he took me to the place where the boat leaves for Ometepe island and told me it was $5 for the ferry. Okay, so I gave him some more money and blah blah blahh, found the boat, realized that I had to pay anyway on the boat, but only about a dollar, and I also met some travelers who laughed and sympathized with me after telling me the exchange rate and realizing that I had been cheated about $16. Ah well. Stupid travelers. Now I know.
On the hour long boat ride I got to know some travelers a bit, and since I didn't specifically have a place to go, we all got together (nine of us) and decided to share a taxi to wherever we decided to go. I love traveling with others who have no plans! We all took our beastly travel backpacks (having a travel backpack instantly bonds you with others with giant travel backpacks) and talked to a few taxi drivers, using our awesome skills to try to get him to lower the price. At first one guy said $25 total for a group, but then he realized there were nine of us and said $5 a person. We tried to get him to lower the cost but he wouldn't, and while a few of our group continued to try, a few of us started to walk away where two guys walked by and whispered "three dollars." We yelled to the group and left the now angry taxi driver to climb into a big van while the driver loaded our luggage on top. Win.
As we drove the travelers all spoke in German. I stayed quiet, and then a girl asked where I was from. When I said the states they laughed and apologized - they hadn't realized I only spoke English.
Random fact about traveling. Not many Americans travel, and when they do, they pretty much only know English. It is so rare to run into other American travelers. I meet tons of people from Germany, Holland, Canada, Australia, China, and South America, and almost always they know at least three languages, more commonly four or five. When I do happen to run into other Americans, or even while talking to locals about people they meet, it seems that people from the US are mean and stuck up, and even though they act like they know it all, they are ridiculously travel stupid (like leaving their bags with people they just met.) What does this tell us about Americans? No wonder locals down here have such negative views of "tourists". (I admit my negligence to know the exchange rate classifies as stupid tourist.)
Anyway, in the van we chitchatted, there were three Germans, three Austrians, and two Dutch. As we drove the one German would talk to the driver in Spanish, then translate to English and German for the rest of us (everyone else knew English as well as German and most knew Spanish.)
We drove along the base of the volcano and the lake and through dry farmland with rows of banana trees. The land was dusty and looked the most like a third world country than anything I've seen so far while traveling. Such an incredible difference.
Eventually, I got out of the van with the three girls from Austria. I'm glad we did because even though the others continued on they had to come back after finding out everything else was booked, but we checked into the first hostel we looked at.
The hostel looks out at the lake and volcano, with nice hammocks, a nice restaurant with amazing food, typical tropical buildings, and nice restrooms. Six dollars a night. Apparently that's on the more expensive end of hostels for Nicaragua. Breaking bank here. Wow. (Just kidding. Compared to Costa Rica this is like swimming in a piggy bank! It's amazing how it can be so different just across borders.)
We walked through unmarked land of more cows and banana trees and got decently lost, but saw countless birds, butterflies, lizards, and heard lots of monkeys. And after an intense uphill climb we were rewarded with a nice cool breeze and this view:
Up there, we could basically see the whole Ometepe island. Later, we took a walk on the flour-like white sand beach trying to avoid the overly friendly looks from the Nicos.
And of course a beautiful sunset...
Then, we got an amazing Nicaraguan meal of chicken, rice, a strange yet delicious salad, and fried plantains. So amazing. I don't think I'll ever get tired of traveling and meeting people and climbing volcanos and eating the delicious food. Such an adventure just by living. :)
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