Chet and Karen's Adventures--South of the Border: Popoyo, Nicaragua

From Santa Teresa, we decided to head to Nicaragua for the last month of our trip. As per the usual, this required two strenuous days of travel before we arrived at our destination of Popoyo, Nicaragua. Funny thing is, the places we're traveling to aren't super far apart. It just takes a chunk of time to travel around here due to our modes of transportation and the infrastructure. First of all, we've been mainly traveling by bus (with a ferry thrown in on the last trip). It is pretty awesome that you can catch a bus to most places for fairly cheap. But it can cost you time as in the case with the jam-packed chicken buses that stop a lot to let people off and that don't go very fast because they are over loaded.

Wind turbines by lake Cocibolca. Nicaragua is a very windy place.

Also, roads. For most of the major traveling between countries, we have ended up on the Pan American Highway. The Pan American is a regal idea, stretching from the top of North America to the tip of South America. The road is over 30,000 miles long, but not fully connected due to one completely impassable section of jungle in Panama known as the Darien Gap (If you haven't heard of it, look it up. The Darien is a crazy place). You'd think that a road as important sounding as that would be quite the thoroughfare. While it does pass a lot of traffic, it is mainly just a narrow, two-lane road throughout Central America.

We caught a bus from Santa Teresa to another bus, then the ferry, then another bus which dropped us on the side of the Pan American. We crossed the highway and hopped on yet another bus which took us to the border of Costa Rica and then beyond to the small city of Rivas, Nicaragua.

We stayed the night at Hostel Lidia. It was a clean and quiet place run by a soft speaking elderly woman (Lidia?). She talked very softly and slowly to the point where it was a challenge to hear and understand her. We went out and got some street food that night. It was typical Nicaraguan cuisine: chicken, pinto de gallo (rice and beans mixed), fried plantain chips, and a cabbage salad. To drink we had a pineapple drink that was so sweet it made you more thirsty rather than quench your thirst. The total for the meal was about $3.50/each.

The next morning we got up, had breakfast at the same place as the night before and walked to the market. The Rivas market consisted of several streets of small shops selling everything under the sun. These same streets were also lined with street vendors hawking fresh produce and other food stuffs. The streets were packed with not only the vendors and customers but also cars, trucks, bicycle taxis, horses, and cows all traveling through as well. Needless to say it was a busy place. We stocked up on food for heading out to Popoyo for about a week.

Once we had our food, we grabbed our bags and went to the bus terminal. There we were accosted by a man trying to get us to take a taxi instead of the bus. When Wyatt and I ignored him he focused his attentions on Karen, calling "chica blanca!". The taxi salesman had gotten the impression that Karen was the only one in our group who spoke spanish because she kept telling him "no gracias". He concentrated his efforts on her telling all kinds of lies to try to get us to go "There isn't a bus, ok there is a bus but the buses are dangerous, you wont get there until after dark, the bus doesn't leave until four...(it left at eleven)". Finally he left and a different man approached us who had been watching the show, and told us which bus to get on.

The bus was what people call a "chicken bus" because it is not unusual to see live chickens on board as luggage. The bus was a yellow old school bus from the states modified with a roof rack and a grab pole down the aisle for standing passengers. It was packed full of people and goods. The roof was loaded down with 50 kg bags of beans, rice, and grains that people were taking back to the country along with other purchases made in Rivas. We nervously handed up our backpacks and surfboards to the man on the roof and stepped on board.

The bus ride was a long and sweaty one, down a paved road and then onto a bumpy dirt one. We inched our way slowly up hills and then sped down the other side. We passed farmland, men on horses driving cattle, carts pulled by oxen, and monkeys in the trees overhead as we slowly made our way towards Popoyo. At one point the bus had to stop and honk for some cows to get out of the road.

Finally after 2.5 hours (felt more like 5) we got off on the side of the road and a minivan pulled up to shuttle us to another crossroads. Words fail to describe how packed this van was. It was a comical scene. There were 16 people inside the van and another 5 on the roof. Then there was the luggage and the 50 kg bags of beans. The tires of the van were bulging out from all the weight. Karen and I hopped inside and Wyatt hopped on top. The roof of the van was visibly buckling and swaying as we drove along the bumpy dirt road at a snails pace. You could hear and smell the hot engine straining from the load. (Wyatt got a picture of the van as well as other stuff mentioned in this post.)

It is a long 45 km from Rivas to Popoyo.

Fifteen minutes later we got dropped off at another crossroads and started walking towards our destination about a mile away. The walk from the crossroads was a hot and dusty one. Not knowing how far we needed to walk with all our heavy bags and food made the walk all the more strenuous in the blazing sun. Wyatt joked that we had been dropped off in the desert, humming the tune to A Horse with No Name by the band America.

After profuse sweating and walking for over 20 minutes, an old woodie station wagon rolls down the dusty road in the direction we're heading and stops next to us. Through thick accents, they ask us if we need a ride. We heartily agree. It turns out it probably would have only been another 10 minute walk, but not knowing how much further we needed to go it was nice to have a ride. The two ladies who picked us up were two Aussies, Cat and Monique, who had been traveling the last 7 months from Mexico. Quite the trip! They were looking to sell their car because they'll be ending their trip soon. One dude at the hostel where we all stayed (we ended up sharing a dorm room with the Aussie chicas) was interested in buying their car, but ended up giving them no end of grief. The Aussies and the dude took it for a test drive. In the course of their dealings in the next two days, the dude flattened three (!) tires, the back tires and the spare. Needless to say, they came away a bit frazzled from their interactions with him and never wanting to go to South Carolina (where he's from). They decided not to sell him the car and we all agreed he's majorly fried his brain with drugas.

We stayed for two nights at the Popoyo Beach Hostel and then moved to a private house for the week through AirBnb. The house is pretty sweet. After being in hostels for the last few weeks, it's nice to have our own spot. Popoyo is a sleepy little spot on the beach with one tiny store and some small restaurants along the one road. We buy fresh veggies and fruit everyday from the fruit truck that passes by, knowing it is coming from its blaring spiel of "Banana, tomate, piña, cebolla, melon, lechuga...." The guys have been scoring some sick waves. Today is a chill day though due to the wind and Wyatt's feet need healing (he got a little beat up on the rocks the other day surfing). The wind gusts are over 30 mph, with the wind blowing through the rafters of the house sounding like screaming banshees, bellowing angry incomprehensible people, or fighting cats. The beach is nice, but not so much when the wind is driving stinging sand onto your legs and feet (very exfoliating though!).

Waiting for the wind to calm down,
Chet and Karen