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Returning to Nicaragua


The ceiling at the Teatro National

Our final day in Costa Rica saw us hitting the buffet for the last time, getting all our stuff together, settling our bill (which was less than $400 and that included about four meals!) and heading back to the bus station, having been out of Nicaragua for over the required seventy two hours.

I certainly wasn’t looking forward to another bus trip, considering we spent a lot of the day before on a bus and didn’t get back to our hotel from the island till ten o’clock, but what can you do? Dave and I wildly contemplated chucking it all in and going to the airport for the one hour flight, but being that a bus ticket is $15 and a plane ticket is over $100 we resigned ourselves to the bus.


Okay, run out of Costa Rica pics. This is a very large moth that flew in and tried to eat us in our home. I realise this photo doesn’t do much for perspective, but we are talking bigger than one of my hands.

Our returning bus was far superior to our first bus in that it contained a working DVD player, so we had the excellent fortune to view “Little Man”, and what an atrocious pile of tripe it is. My favourite bit was when the DVD started skipping, and when it got about half-way through it went all the way back to the beginning and replayed the entire movie. Shudder. At least it didn’t skip the second time. We hit the Costa Rican border at about five, which was good timing, but then we realised why you should catch the early bus not the midday bus... EVERY man and his dog wants to cross at that time... from BOTH sides. It took us two hours to get through immigration, most of which was spent shuffling forward a couple of steps each half hour in a line. When we got into the actual customs office area, we realised why... they had one poor little guy doing entrances, one poor little guy doing exits, and two lines that snaked around almost the entire building. Note to self: never work for Central American customs.


This is an irrelevant pic of David with a beard and hair! Taken some time ago, he is now reverted to his former shaved self.

We got on the bus and drove over to the Nicaraguan border, where the TicaBus people fill out all your forms for you and get your passports stamped, so we hung around for another hour while that happened, and once again didn’t appear like smugglers because our bags were sent back on the bus without inspection. We are so honest looking we should obviously become professional drug mules! Back on the bus to Granada, they put on the movie “Rocky Balboa”. Gosh, that was fun! My favourite bit was where we watched all the useless boring and utterly crap character development, got to the fight scene at the end and, just as the bell was going to ring to start round one, the movie not only skipped backwards, but played each bad character development scene again and then skipped back to the previous one until it reached the beginning and started again. By that point everyone on the bus was snickering. ALMOST got up to the fight scene again... and then we were in Granada! (So we never saw the end. Please feel free to leave a comment on the blog and let me know who won, Rocky or the other guy?) Home sweet home! Better yet, when we got home, both the power AND the water were on!


Ah Jesus. Where would we be without you? In the dark, that’s where!

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