Written 13-3-08
Yesterday was a long day.
To start, Andy and I dragged our lazy asses out of bed at 4:00 am.
We stayed at this dodgy hotel connected to the bus station in San Salvador, and were warned the night before by the armed guard at the front door not to go out. I have also been warned by many travelers that it's just not a real safe-haven, just as bad as all the other capitals, once the sun goes down.
So on the bus we go, and it was nice. I didn't want to chicken bus it through two different border crossings in one day, because you never know when one is going to stop and when another one is coming. Even though we were on a nice bus, it was a ten hour ride. Anything turns sour after ten hours, so it wasn't the most eventful morning. It should have been longer to Managua, the capital, but our destination was Leon, so we were dropped off in a town called San Isidro to get another bus west towards the coast.
San Isidro turned out to be an intersection. I'll give it a little more credit: San Isidro is an intersection in the middle of nowhere in Nicaragua with three tiendas for food. So glad we stopped to take pictures. A few seconds later a chicken bus roars up, and we run for the entrance. A rule about chicken buses is that it's not their fault if you can only get yourself half on, or only your bag and not yourself, so you have to fight for your space, and if you're lucky, a seat. Most people let us pass because we're the gringos checking out the tourist trap that is San Isidro.
On to the bus we go: Andy, myself, and a Canadian guy named Mark we met on the bus headed for Leon himself. I liked traveling with Mark, because not only is he nice and funny, he is fucking huge. Enormous. It's nice sometimes...
So the bus costs 34.50 Cordobas, the national currency here. I don't miss the dollar at all...the currency here is so much prettier. Anyway, the bus ride was about $1.75, which was nice in comparison to the $25 bus we just got off. Looking at the map, I figured it would take about an hour to get to Leon. Looking at the road I realized it would take a lot longer. It took three and a half hours.
The bus was fun. Sweaty, dusty, bumpy, and people staring at you. I made friends with one of the bus workers who gave me some great information on Semana Santa, Holy Week, which is next week. (Apparently everyone in the entire country stops work next Wednesday until Easter Sunday...so I need to actually do some planning and try to get reservations before the buses stop running.) There was a drunk guy in the seat in front of me who kept bobbing and weaving...I'm amazed he didn't throw up. There were two kids sitting two seats ahead of me...
I smiled and they stared.
I waved and they stared.
I said "Hola" and they stared.
Friendly people.
I have to say, it is nice to see thin people again. I mentioned the modernization of El Salvador before, and with it comes all the McDonalds, Burger Kings, and Pizza Huts filled with overweight Salvadorians enjoying a new way of life, the Dollar Menu. This was mostly in the big city, but I haven't seen so many obese people since Texas.
As the red sun sets, we watch from our windows of our school bus as the sky changes from orange to pink to purple to a gray-blue that covers the hills and trees like a blanket. The rush of being in a new country has hit me, and I feel alive, even after a thirteen and a half hour bus trip. We arrive in Leon and find ourselves in a great hostel, where I run into Jesse, and old friend from Tulum. We go out for live reggae music and Flor de Caña rum, Nicaragua's finest, and voted best rum in the world.
...and today is a new day...
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