My journals from the jungles of Costa Rica. Easter Weekend, San Juan Del Sur, Nicaragua 2002: We had to leave Costa Rica for 72 hours as we had been there for three months. Only allowed to stay in the country that long without residency then you have to leave for three days then you can go back. So, we decided to take a trip to Nicaragua where I have always wanted to visit. San Juan Del Sur is where all the Gringos go when they need to leave for their three days. The town itself is sweet but getting there via the border crossing is really something else.
First, we had no idea how busy the border crossing would be during the Holy Week. We took the truck and had a pleasant ride to the crossing, about three hours from our camp. When we got there, however, there must have been about 1,000 people in line to get their passports stamped to get into Nicaragua. Evidently all the Nicaraguans who work in Costa Rica were going home for the holiday.
Even though I had read up on the procedure it was nothing like a I read about once we actually got there. There were no numbers on the buildings or they had worn off, so I just stood in the longest line and hoped for the best. It was blazing hot out and looked like this might take at least all day long just to get across the border.
Then, this middle aged Costa Rican man came up to me and asked me in English if I wanted to get my passport stamped quickly. Oh, yes, I did, but I didn't trust him to do it for me. I talked to Frank about it and he was all for it. This guy even said he could get us the special permit we needed to take our own vehicle across. He wanted $40 and both of our passports. I kept telling Frank not to give him our passports but he insisted it was the only way we were going to get out of there without standing in line all day.
Come to find out this guy was a former border patrolman and knew everyone working inside. He had us get a soda and wait for him at a little table in the indoor cafe. We could see him from where we were sitting as he took our passports with him and entered the back door of the immigration office. We saw him walk up to one of the officers there and I'm assuming he also gave him half of the money along with our passports. Within seconds the passports were stamped and he was back returning them to us. I felt a little guilty about all those people still standing in line but was glad Frank had talked me into letting him help us. Next, we needed to get the permit to take the truck across.
This required having the guy get in our truck and driving back to the municipal offices with him (where everyone there knew him as well) and filling out the required paperwork. Of course, by the time we finished with the paperwork it was lunch time and the office was closing for an hour. They told us to come back later to get the permit.
We took the guy helping us to lunch where his two children showed up and we fed them, too. The restaurant we ate at sat high on a bluff and had an amazing view of the ocean. Unfortunately the flies liked it, too and I pretty much had to hover over my lunch plate to keep them from eating it all before I could get to it. Figured I was going to get sick eating there but was starving so I took my chances (miraculously I didn't get sick).
After about an hour and a half we returned to the municipality and got the permit we needed. Our helper rode with us back to the border and said he'd be waiting to help us on our way back through in a few days if we needed him. Also gave us the name and number of a friend on the Nicaraguan side in case we needed help while we were there.
While Frank was waiting for me to get some required stamps two or three kids about 10 or 12 years old came up to the truck and asked for spare change. We had change on the dashboard and they had seen it. Just as I was coming out Frank was giving them some of the coins and I said, “Oh, I don't think you should have done that!” Just then about a dozen kids circled the truck all begging for money. We were completely surrounded by them and I figured we couldn't drive off even if we wanted to without hitting one of them. They were a little aggressive. You would never see this in Costa Rica so it was a bit surprising. Frank scooped up all the spare change and threw it as far as he could which sent all the children scattering away from the truck, allowing us to get out of there and across the border.
Now we were in Nicaragua. Our next stop was right on the road and I don't know what it's called but it's where they spray your car with pesticides so you don't take any foreign bugs into the country I guess. Unfortunately we had no idea what was going to happen (we stopped because there was a big sign that said we had to and a little building next to it). This young guy comes out with a container with a nozzle on it and before we even had a chance to roll the windows up he's blasting the truck with Lord only knows what kind of poisonous chemicals. Poor guy had no protection on at all and will probably die at a young age from cancer or pesticide poisoning. This was a strange initiation into Nicaragua.
After this we drove along a beautiful road (paved) along the edges of Lake Nicaragua. There were hardly any houses along this stretch and the scenery was breathtakingly beautiful. Only a little over an hour later and we had arrived in San Juan Del Sur. We drove around the town a bit until we found a really nice looking place that had secured parking. I wanted a place with secured parking for our truck so no one would steal it. Also I had heard of Nicaraguans planting drugs in foreigners vehicles then having someone on the Costa Rica side run you off the road when you got back to recover the drugs. Didn't want any part of anything like that. So, even though the place cost as much as a hotel in the States it was worth every penny for peace of mind.
The hotel we stayed in was small and charming. It was owned by a guy from California namedd Mike. There was a woman from Ogunquit, Maine working there, too named Carol. Small World! They were wonderful hosts and the place was immaculate and right in the center of the small coastal tourist town. If you're going I suggest you stay there. You will not be disappointed. It's the Hotel Isabella at http://villaisabellasjds.com.
The funniest thing that happened while we were there was the day the locals were parading a giant statue of a black Christ down the streets in honor of Holy Week. They were coming right along the path in front of the hotel so Frank and I went out on the balcony to get a better look. I was taking photos. The big, heavy, wooden door leading to the balcony suddenly was blown shut by a gust of wind and sounded like a shot was fired. EVERYONE (there were at least 30-40 people) in the parade stopped immediately, ducked, and looked up in the direction of the noise. I swear they all thought it was gunfire. That was really strange. Must have been something they were used to as they didn't panic or anything just looked around to make sure they weren't being shot at. We were a bit embarrassed to say the least but did have a good laugh about it later.
Though we visited the beach a few times we spent most of our stay eating popcorn, watching old movies, and being spoiled rotten by our hosts. On the beaches there the young kids will come up to you frequently trying to sell trinkets, sunglasses, and such and they barely leave you alone long enough to enjoy yourself. Totally different than Costa Rica where you never get harassed on the beaches or see children begging for anything. At least not any that I met.
I did love Nicaragua, though, and the country itself is absolutely lovely. So little development there compared to Costa Rica and everything is just as green, tropical, and lush. I wanted Frank to buy a big piece of land for sale there on Lake Nicaragua but he was having none of it. Too bad he didn't listen to me as just a few years later someone else bought it, built a big hotel, and was getting $200 a night to stay in it. That's some amazing money in Nicaragua.
Back to Costa Rica three days later and we are good to go for another three months if we chose. We didn't plan on staying that much longer, though, as spring and summer on the Coast of Maine are too pretty to miss. More later.