San Jorge to San Juan del Sur. 22 mile. August 14th & 15th, 2010

Our next stop is San Juan del Sur on the Pacific Coast. Again we are branching out. There is no reference in our books of a place to stay so hopefully we can find a spot. On arrival, we are stopped on the edge of town by the police, the usual check but we have found they are very helpful with information to possible parking. They gave us two places but one was not close to the beach and didn't interest us and the second had an overhang so the RV was too tall. the guard there recommended e drive to the end of the road and try to park at the port authority builing. Success! No problems. We were charged $7.50 to park with electricity. Perfect. There is a lot of activity and people and not many boats. As we walked around we were told that the show Survivor is filming in Nicaragua for next year and that the activity is all of the set building and whatever else the show needs. Tom is more fascinated by the boat activity and is soon chatting to several Americans who are hee repairing and rebuilding their boats for trips to Ecuador and the Pacific. We had thought we would stay until Monday but the guards told us that Sunday was the better day for crossing the border. There is only one border into Costa Rica so it is really busy. Trucks are the biggest problem so they figure Sunday is the best day. That only gives us 2 days in San Juan so we walked the beach and went to town. We had dinner the last night here, Saturday, at a fabulous restaurant owned by an Italian lady with her English husband. Both Tom and I agreed it was he best meal we had eaten on the road so far. After a slow walk back to the RV, we contemplated how much we had enjoyed Nicaragua and of how blown out of proportion the reports back in the States are of the area. Yes, there are problems especially in the under developed areas on the east coast but that is fairly centralized and so no-one ventures there. We feel perfectly safe wandering the streets after dark and are so glad we had ventured as much as we had in the country. Tomorrow, the border.

Isla de Ometepe and back

Ometepe was fantastic. This was our first time leaving the RV, with all our stuff and going for an overnight hotel visit. We parked at the ferry building to the side of the main building. The whole area is patrolled day and night by armed employees and the gate is kept closed and guarded 24 hrs, so we expected no problems. Winston was a little hesitant at first, getting onto the boat but with some encouragement, he walked the gang plank, we got some coffee and settled in. The ride to the island takes about 1 hr. and we are in awe at the size of this lake. It is huge with the Isle de Ometepe at it's southern end. Ometepe is a volcanic island made up of 2 volcanoes. The largest is Volcan Concepcion and the smaller Maderas. As we approach for landing we can see that the "port" is little more than a dock at the end of a dirt road. Thank God we didn't bring the RV. Everyone diaembarks. Locals, tourists, supplies for the island, and Winston. Terra firma - he is happy. We are inundated with tour guides. These are local people who happen to have an auto that runs. A man with a pickup said he could take us to Santa Domingo for $20.00. $20.00! We tell him no and say we are going to walk up the road with the dog. He follows - $15.00. We smile and shake our heads. At the top of the road is the main street and a group of Nicaraguans are milling around. "Is there a bus to Santa Domingo?" I ask them. "Sure, just stand on the other side of the road and one will be along at some point". From the maps we had seen of the island, Playa Santa Domingo looked one of the nicest and the Hotel Villa Paraiso was the most upscale. We were hoping to get a room or cabana for the night and that they allow pets. Almost immediately the bus came. A chicken bus but we are used to them and the cost 20 cordobas each. 40 cordobas or $2.00. $20.00 we snort. We have been travelling enough now that we are not intimidated by buses or over-priced taxi drivers. The bus ride took about 45 minutes and again we are struck by the sheer size of the place. We get off at Santa Domingo with another lady. She is a Canadian from Toronto, a teacher travelling by herself via buses. She also says she has had no problems being alone and has been met with only friendly smiles and a warm-hearted people. We ask a passerby for the hotel. Just up the road a little. "Do you think they will let us stay with a dog"? Like everyone else he looks puzzled. "I don't see why, they have dogs themselves". We start up the hill for the short walk to the hotel and part company with the lady from Toronto. She is staying at another place about 2 km. up the road. We go into the hotel. They have a room for $29.00 and cabanas for $73.00. Hmm. Winston is not a problem, in fact no-one even mentioned him except to ask his name and pet him. We check out 3 different cabanas and settle on one with a price of $60.00. It has a lake view, private bathroom, A/C and 2 beds. One for us and one for the dog, they say, smiling. Fantastic. We settle in and go to the restaurant for lunch. Fresh fish is on the menu and that's it. After lunch, we go down to their private beach. Tom can't resist but go into the water. Unlike Lake Atitlan in Guatemala, the lake side is clean without a scrap of trash. "Whoa", I hear Tom. "Hey, I can feel the fish biting and nibbling at me, my legs and back". Be careful, I tell him. Lake Nicaragua is the only landlocked lake that boasts fresh water sharks. That's all we need. Tom bit by a shark. He comes out of the water and asks if I want to go in! I think not. Instead I play with Winston, who also runs in and out of the water and sit and enjoy the views of this beautiful place. After a while we go back up and sit outside with a beer, chatting about our good fortune of finding this place and how fabulous it is. Then the rain starts. We go to the room and Tom rests while I sit outside on our patio, reading and watching the lake. I think of the motorhome and say a little prayer that it will be okay. But since there is nothing more to be done, decide I can't worry about it and doze to the sound of the rain. The hotel is busy. We chat with people from Germany, Canada and a young couple from the States. Everyone loves it here and have nothing but praise for the country and the people. In addition of course to the prices. Forget the dollar, the euro is getting the Europeans a great deal. We get up in the morning and I walk Winston. He is greeted by everyone we meet. He is happy, they all know his name and he lets them pet and stroke him. Then it's time to pack up and take the bus to the ferry port. We are leaving from a different port, Moyogalpa and it takes two buses to get there. The ride back was uneventful and with great relief found our RV safe and sound. The guard came up to check us out. No tip was expected. It was their pleasure. We drive the short distance to the Hotel California where we will spend one more night and reflect, once again, on our good fortune.

Masaya to San Jorge on Lago de Nicaragua. 68 miles

This is supposed to be the busiest of the national parks so we got to the visitors center at 9am to try to beat the tour buses from the cities. The center is very informative with information about this particular volcano and the formation of volcanoes in general in both Spanish and English. By the time we headed up to the steaming, active crater, the day was partly sunny and the 4 mile drive was filled with spectaular views. The crater was already busy but since there are warning signs everywhere that you shouldn't spend more than 20 minutes breathing in the gases, we took some photographs, walked up the side of the volcano, 300 or so steps for better views and then went back to the center to fill the RV with water before leaving. We have been studying our maps to come up with a route that keeps us headed to Costa Rica but with some time for sight-seeing. So we have decided to go through Granada but not stop and drive to San Jorge on the shore of Lake Nicaragua. We will go to Granada on our way north. Granada, on the map, looked navigable for the RV but once again we got lost. On this occasion, we lost no time. We flagged down a taxi driver and asked him to show us the road to San Jorge. No problem. He took us down main streets and narrow side streets, around the central park and past the cathedral. We debated how much to give him and agreed we would let him settle the price and only argue if it seemed outrageous. Tom had thought 100 cordobas ($5.00). Finally he pulled over and pointed the way. We asked how much we owed. 30 cordobas he said. $1.50!! Taxis through the cities is the only way to go. We arrived at San Jorge with no more problems and scoped out the places to park. There was the beach itself and the secured parking area in the ferry building but we settled on the Hotel California as we could plug into power, water and they have WiFi. We walk to a local restaurant. It is owned by Dario, a transplanted Italian who lives on the Island of Ometepe. As we chat we decide to visit the island but not with the motorhome. Even though the ferry could accomodate it, we were unsure of how we would handle those island roads. After talking with a few people, it is agreed that we can park in a secure area of the ferry building for 90 cordobas a day and take the ferry across. We are going to try to find a hotel for the night but if not, we will come back. Everyone assures us Winston will not be a problem. In fact, whenever we asked if he was allowed, in the restaurants, on the ferry or as it turned out, in a hotel, we were looked at quizzically as though they didn't understand our worries. The dog is fine. No problemo. We decide on taking the 9:30 ferry and go back to the RV to pack and get some sleep.

Las Pinetas to Parque Nacional de Volcan Masaya. 110 miles

All roads lead to Managua so we will have to negotiate our way through the capital. As a rule the large cities are not RV friendly and Tom does not relish the thought. True to form, we got lost. The problem is that we have maps but the streets do not have signs, so although on the map the streets have names, with no signage we don't know where we are! And also, the rain has started once again which only adds to our anxiety and dilemma. Fortunately we see a stadium and a fire station. We park by the stadium, I walk Winston and Tom heads across the street to the fire house. Someone speaks English and Tom was able to get some exact directions to get out of town. As we follow them, we realize that we would never have gotten out of the city without help and we make a decision that from now on, if we get lost we will immediately hire a taxi to lead us to the road we need to be on. As we get ourselves situated on the road to Masaya, we heave a sigh of relief. It has taken us over 2 hours to get through Managua and now time is not on our side. We need to be at the national park no later than 4:30pm, closing time as this is where we are hoping to spend the night. We pull in at about 4:40 and talk to the ranger at the gate. He calls ahead to the visitor's center to ask permission for us to park there overnight. No problem and we pull into the park. As we drive the mile or so to the visitor's center, we pass huge boulders of lava, reminders of a time when the volcano was active. It actually still does have an active steaming crater which we hope to see in the morning. The ranger told us that the crater had been closed all afternoon because of the rain. It seems that when it rains, the gases are held in and it is too dangerous to be breathing them in. As it usually doesn't start to rain until late afternoon or evening, we hope that the weathr will hold and the crater will be open. Aa we pull up to the center, another ranger points out a beautiful grassy area for us to park. We have amazing views over the valley and can see Lake Managua and Lake Nicaragua from our vantage point. As the rangers begin to leave, three armed military vigilantes arrive, they will be the guards for the night. Pretty soon, we have the park to ourselves and we feel completely safe. It is so peaceful. I give Winston a final walk of the night, passing the guards. We chat, the stars are out and I can't help but think that this is very unique. For this night, we have our own personal park with guards. We sleep with the door amd windows open to enjoy the night air.

Playa Roca, Las Pinatas.

We have been here since Friday and it has been wonderful. Saturday and Sunday were quite busy with people driving from Leon to spend the day at the beach. We have chatted with Americans, Dutch, Austrian and Germans in addition to Nicaraguan locals. Leon is a university town and considered liberal - rather like our Berkeley campus and attracts a lot of young idealistic foreigners who come to study and help with social working. They teach, counsel and help build homes, new water systems, whatever is needed. As a rule, they seem to stay about 6 months and all have told us that they have had great experiences and enjoyed their stay. Nicaragua does appear to be quite stable and foreigner friendly. We will be able to judge more as we travel through the country. We have seen some beautiful sunsets here and enjoyed the beach and the local beer, Tona which is similar to a pilsner. We have also sampled Nicaraguan rum, which is a gold rum and rather tasty! Today, we are leaving to head inland to the National Park and Volcanoes of Masaya and then on to Granada, update to follow.

Leon to Poneloya/Las Pinatas. 14 mile. August 6th.

We know from our travels that many RVers stay at truckstops overnight, particularly at the huge Pemex stations in Mexico but this was our first. Wow. We have gotten used to the sounds of the ocean, the storms which vary in intensity, the crowing of roosters and hens at a variety of parks and the bucolic lowing of cattle at others but nothing except for maybe camping at the pit stop for the Indy 500 prepares you for the noise of 30 or more commercial trucks firing up their diesel engines at 5 o'clock in the morning. They then they idle and idle until finally their air pumps or whatever kick in with a huge whooshing sound and they rev their engines! Then it is the sound of the emergency beeps as some back up and with much honking, the day has started. I can't help but start to giggle which soon turns into laughter. "Dear God, that was horrible", I say to Tom who surely had to be awake or maybe the diesel fumes had sent him comatose. No, he was definitely awake. "We should really stay here more often". He groans. "That was horrible" and tries to go back to sleep. I'm fully awake and get up to start my morning ritual of coffee and reading a guidebook for whichever country we happen to be in. By the time Tom gets up, I have a plan. "Let's go to the cathedral and then to this beach town, Poneloya. It's only about 14 mile and we might find a place to stay for one night". With no other backup plan, Tom agrees. To get to Poneloya, we must drive through Leon and I was hoping to see the Catedral de la Ascuncion, which is supposedly the largest cathedral in Central America and on the main plaza. Naturally we get lost, miss the cathedral but manage to find the road to the beach. Tom assures me we will see the cathedral when we come back through town. As we approach the beach access road, we are stopped by the police. They ask for the usual paperwork and we chat. They advise us not to go to Poneloya but instead turn left at the playa and go to Las Pinatas about 1 mile up the road. Then find Hotel Playa Roca, which they assure us will be able to let us park for the night. We take their advise and find Playa Roca with no problem. Surprise. The hotel and restaurant is owned by Americans, Cookie is from Colorado and Mike is from California. There is a nice restaurant, oceanfront property with waves that are definitely boogie board worthy (Tom's eyes light up), WiFi and we can park and hook into electricity. Now if only we could find a place to dump our tanks! We get set up and it is still not even noon. Tom gets his board and fins and I, a book and with Winston we all head to the beach. I settle under a palapa with a beach chair while Tom prepares to join a group of about 6 surfers and Winston frolics in the surf. The tension of border crossing slips away as we decide we couldn't find a better spot for our first full day in Nicaragua

Choluteca, Honduras to Leon, Nicaragua. 97 miles.

It is with the best of intentions, that on days we cross the border our plan is to get going early, so far this has not happened and today was no exception. We got up, ate and discussed... the generator. It seems to be laboring a little and when we start it up, it splutters. So Tom gets the owner's manual and starts to read. We decide to take advantage of the internet and order the parts needed to give it what amounts to a tune-up. Something else for Danny and Nicole to bring. This took up the better part of the morning and it was almost noon before we started the drive to the border, about 28 miles with 2 more checkpoints. The second was the worst and the police were just looking for an excuse to get money. They checked the vehicle, all the paperwork, our fire extinguishers, emergency triangles, etc. Finally, after wandering around the RV, they noticed our laminated rear license plate. Ah ha! "Fine or a ticket", they said. No, said Tom and I. We have the original but people try to steal it. For about 15 minutes we are at in impasse. Tom gets a scredriver and puts on the true license plate. Now we are not in violation. With much grumbling they hand us back all our documentation and we drive off. We will both be glad to be out of Honduras. The country is nice, the people seem friendly but the police and all the hassles make it all hard to enjoy. We exit Honduras with no further problems and get to the Nicaraguan border. Here an official stopped us, checked our vehicle exit stamp and then smiling broadly and shaking Tom's hand, welcomed us to Nicaragua. He pointed us in the direction of immigration and customs. A very polite young lady approached us. She had a clipboard, an official looking shirt and a badge. "Aduana?" I ask. "Si" she said. Passports, vehicle paperwork (license, title, registration) and Winston's paperwork. "That will be $40.00" she said. Lights should have gone off in my head but with all the frustrations, I wasn't thinking. Neither, apparently was Tom. We handed over $40.00. As she walked away, I grabbed Winston's leash to walk him. After a couple of minutes, I hurried back to Tom. "Go after her, she has all our original paperwork and we always have to find customs, immigration etc., they don;t look for us. We had broken a cardinal rule. Never, never give up your original paperwork to anyone unless it is in an office of a bona fide official. Fortunately, Tom finds here and she is processing our paperwork but he also realises that she works for a well organized tramitadore agency. Our costs without her would have been $30.00, so they made $10.00. By the time they returned, it was about 3 pm and all our paperwork appeared to be in order. We were not happy with ourselves for being suckered in but we let it go, smiled, high-fived and considered t another successful border crossing. We knew we wanted to make Leon our first stop, which is about 70 mile from the border but we didn't know the road conditions or stop points. As it turned out, the roads are better maintained than Honduras but not as well as El Salvador and we were stopped three times. We were asked for our vehicle permit and Tom's license (we are now using the laminated, fake one like it was legal issuance) and sent on our way. Just like at the border, the police were polite and courteous and treated us with an ease and friendliness that was lacking in Honduras. However it is now 5pm and in these parts darkness falls at 6 and dark, ominous clouds are starting to form. Within 5 minutes we are in a dluge of rain, thunder and lightening and Tom is having a difficult time seeing anything. In addition, because this is a border road, there is a lot of traffic of both trucks and cars. In fact our overnight stop in Leon is an Esso gas station that is a truck stop. Suddenly the traffic comes to a dead stop. Accident. The traffic slowly starts to ease forward, past the emergency vehicles and police cars. We are still about 20 mile from Leon and losing whatever light there is. We push on and finally see, on the outskirts of town, our stop. Esso Gas. We pull in and see that there is still plenty of room although trucks are pulling in quickly. We have learned that no-one really wants to be driving after dark. We had read that the place is safe and secure and sure enough, within the space of an hour, our small RV was sandwiched between huge trucks and anyone would have been hard pressed to find us. Truckers also turn in for the night early and so after some fast food chicken and a burger at the on site cafe, we to went to bed. Exhausted. Two crossings in two days. Give me a week to chill!