´Nilla versus motorbike.

  Esteli, Nicaragua
Tuesday, June 5, 2007

Geraldine and Noemi diligently woke up early on June 5, 2007 and set out for another arduous walk and run in the mountains.  When they returned, Michael was still hard at work typing away at the computer on yet another journal entry.  After showering and getting the final few bits of our effects packed back into 'Nilla we were ready for a farewell breakfast.  Geraldine and Noemi whipped up yet another fabulous round of pancakes and we all sat down to eat.  It was our last breakfast at the compound and on one hand we were a bit gloomy about leaving and on the other hand were excited to get moving to another country.  We planned on hitting the Nicaraguan border and nothing was going to stop us.  Saying goodbye to Noemi for the second time on our trip we fired up 'Nilla and pulled through the gates of Casa Lajoya.  We slowly made our way into and back out of Tegucigalpa on the highway leading to Los Manos and the Nicaraguan border.  The highway was in amazing condition with not a pot hole to be found.  We climbed up the mountainside for nearly forty-five minutes before reaching the summit of the first pass.  The land was lush with large evergreens and sporadic coniferous trees mixed in.  The sides of the hills were assorted shades of green and they lit up when rays of sun caught the surface of the leaves.  The highway had frequent inclines, declines and sharp curves for us to contend with between numerous mountain passes.  It was a pleasant drive absent of any major traffic.  At one section of the highway the road travelled along the edge of a rather large mountain and when we reached the other side we were in for a rude awakening.  Evidence of massive forest clear cutting was obvious and the road became a hazardous track of pot holes leaving no section of road untouched.  'Nilla tried her best to bob and weave around the craterous asphalt and short of her leaping down the mountain, little could be done to avoid a bumpy ride.  The vertical slopes of the adjacent mountainside were impressive with their intimidating rock faces.
 
 
We had read that deforestation in Honduras was a major problem, but this was our first glimpse of the devastation first hand.  According to recent literature trees are harvested by clear cutting at a rate of 3000 square kilometres each year.  Crunching the numbers leads to a shocking realization that at this rate the entire country could be completely deforested in 20 years.  There are a number of eco-friendly organizations working to bring this trend to an end.  The financial gain of illegal logging is estimated to reap between 20 and 100 million dollars annually and there have been numerous political killings of the leaders of ecology organizations dating back to the 1990's.  On the plus side, the Honduran government has been making a push toward conservation and increasing public awareness of the issues facing them.  There seems to be benefits from their efforts and there are over 40 national parks and wildlife refuges in the country.  Honduras still boasts Rio Platano Biosphere Reserve which has been declared a world heritage site.  It is a large area of land comprised of complex river systems flowing through a tropical rain forest in the Mosquitia region of north eastern Honduras.  It is one of Central America's largest wilderness areas.  The indigenous people of the land still reside in the Mosquitia and live on fishing and organic grown fruits, vegetables and other plants.  The area is relatively untouched by man thus far and hopefully will remain that way.
 
 
After passing the scarred landscape in the mountains for what seemed like an eternity, the road lead downhill toward the town of Danli.  Danli is a major town near the border with Nicaragua and we took the opportunity to gas up 'Nilla and get some cash.  We had issues with every bank machine we tried and after five attempts we were still without any cash.  Realizing that there was nothing we could do, we hoped the small stash of cash we had on hand would be sufficient to get us over the border and into Nicaragua.  The road to the border was quiet as we chose the less popular crossing at Los Manos.  The two lane highway led through lush farmland before heading up yet another mountain.  Today was not to be a day for record gas mileage.  Within two or three kilometres of the border we started to see copious amounts of semi truck and trailers lining both sides of the highway.  Obviously, there must be some sort of inspection required in order to cross the border, but it did not appear that the process was a quick one.  We made it up to the actual border offices without any hassle.  Parked, we walked to the office marked Migracion and found there was no one there.  The border officials explained that we could go to the Migracion on the Nicaraguan side as the offices handled both countries.  Now this was a first.  We were a bit sceptical and decided to hit the Aduana (Customs) Office to obtain our vehicle permit.  We surrendered our Honduran vehicle permit in a dark and dingy office and received no receipt in return.   The lady behind the desk advised us that we were finished and could move on down the road to the joint Customs and Immigration Offices used by both Honduras and Nicaragua.  Now this made a little more sense.  We pulled 'Nilla out of one parking spot and pulled back into another not 100 metres down the road.  First stop was to the Aduana where we asked about obtaining a vehicle permit.  The pleasant man behind the counter motioned us to enter a nearby door to his office wherein we relayed to him all the pertinent information needed on the form.  Slipping a carbon copy paper into a manual typewriter, he meticulously typed each key stroke and filled out the permit.  Once he was done, the form was passed across the table to us and we were sent on our way.  Shocked that we did not have to pay, we stifled our excitement and moved down the sidewalk to the Migracion Office.  Now this was a treat.  One long bank of windows housed both the Honduran and Nicaraguan Migracion Offices. 

Nicaraguan border.

Exiting Honduras cost us $3 USD per person, which was equal to the price we paid to enter the country.  We received yet another receipt that looked simply like a photocopy and were shuffled down two windows to the Nicaraguan officials.  The process was no more involved at this window; however the Nicaraguans would only accept their currency or US dollars.  Paying in US dollars was a better deal as it seemed they were gouging us on exchange when paying in the local currency of Cordovas.  We shelled out yet another $14 USD and small entirely official looking receipts were placed into our passports.  The border official advised us to keep the receipts in the passport at all times as they would be needed to be presented upon request by the local police authorities.   With documents in hand we were forced to pull over at a police checkpoint not 15 metres from the Migracion office.  We provided all our recently required documentation and our names were added to a large ledger book inside the office.  That was a rather easy process.  It was here that a well dressed man approached us and explained that liability insurance for the vehicle was mandatory in Nicaragua.  Not ones to bicker about mandatory paperwork, we quickly agreed to buy the insurance and he flipped open his folder and started scratching down our information.  The cost of insurance was $12 USD for 30 days and did not seem like a bad deal in any event.  Pulling out from the border we spotted a small black Honda Prelude with Ontario license plates.  It was quite dust covered and we think it more than likely was abandoned there.  Interesting sight to see familiar plates from home. 
 
 

Nicaragua scenery.

Officially in Nicaragua, we rolled down the two lane highway leading us back to Central America Highway 1 also known as the Pan-American Highway.  The road led downhill to the village of Ocotal.  The sun was shining and the scenery was reminiscent of the Peter Lougheed Park at home in Alberta, except the hills here were larger.  Rock faces jutted out from the tops of the hills and large pine and oak tree finished off the beautiful landscape.  It was not more than an hour into our drive that the sun disappeared as rain clouds speedily filled and darkened the sky.  Being in the middle of the mountains we expected a torrential downpour and we were not disappointed.  As fast as the clouds rolled in the heavens opening and poured down on us.  The lack of light from the threatening clouds and thick tree cover only compounded the reduced visibility from the rain.  As we rambled up and down the small hills we actually encountered areas of completely dry road and no rain.

Storm clouds moving in.

  It was the oddest thing.  But, seconds later, we would pass into a deluge of water and resume driving in the rainstorm.  The rain subsided by the time we rolled into Esteli.  Our guide book provided no options for camping here, but fortunately we found a Tourist Information office right on the main drag.  The selections for us to park and camp were all very expensive ranging between $10 - $20 USD per night.  After much negotiation, we arranged to camp at Estelimar Resort for $8 USD including bathroom and shower access.  We were also given permission to use the swimming pool at the resort.  Not a great deal, but not a bad one either.  It was the cheapest secure parking we could find and the town of Esteli looked rough.  We had read that it was the sight of a stronghold for the Sandinistas during the 1979 revolution and we were taking no chances.  The Tourist Office was equipped with a small internet service and we made contact with a few people back home before heading off down a mud covered road to our resort for the night. 
 

After the rain, the once hard packed dirt roads become filled with large ruts and massive puddles making negotiating them a shot in the dark.  We crossed our fingers the entire drive to Estelimar Resort that 'Nilla would always find hard ground to keep her rolling forward.  It worked!  We reached the resort near dusk and set up camp for the night close to the security guard station.  The middle aged man armed with a shotgun and a growling dog provided us with a level of comfort sufficient enough for us to get some sleep.
 
 
On June 6, 2007 we slept in to catch up on rest missing from our late nights and early morning in Tegucigalpa.  Around 10:00am we headed down to the swimming pool at Estelimar Resort and found that we were the only two people around.  It sure was nice to have a massive swimming pool and sundeck all to ourselves.

Pool to ourselves.

  Geraldine worked on perfecting her cannonball into the water and made great strides to become a professional water splasher.  Michael cheered her on and documented her efforts on film.  We played in the water until around noon, before packing up and heading into town.  We advised the resort that we would be returning for another night and negotiated a rate of $13 USD for both stays.  It was a small victory.   The road had mainly dried off from the heavy afternoon rains from the day before and we cruised our way down the dirt track.  The lands around Esteli are primarily agricultural and the leading crops are tobacco and coffee. 

Tobacco farm.

Michael found the massive fields of tobacco reminded him of small farming communities around his home town of Brantford, Ontario.  A small trip down memory lane was nice to have.  As we neared the main road, we were faced with a bridge with a school bus on the other side.  It was clear that the bus was not going anywhere, so we needed to move.  Michael put the van in reverse and not seeing any obstacles he backed up.  Within milliseconds we heard banging and yelling at the back of the van.  This was obviously not good.  Geraldine jumped out of 'Nilla and raced to the back.  Phew!  We had simply reversed up and onto the front tire of the dirt bike that was behind us.  There was no damage and everything was cool.  All we needed to do was pull forward slightly to remove the tire imbedded up 'Nilla rear end.  No problem!  We once again narrowly escaped a major disaster. 
 
 

Lunchtime.

We made in safely to the internet café and worked on updating the website for the majority of the afternoon.  As we sat inside, the town of Esteli experienced countless random rain storms that would last for 10 - 20 minutes before pushing on.  The rain drops were huge and anyone that spent mere seconds in the rain would return with a soaking wet shirt.  We stayed under cover the entire day.  We spent hours at the café and headed back to Estelimar shortly after dusk.  As we slowly made our way down the less than stellar road, we were surprised to see that mixed in with the foot traffic and bicycles was a random cow casually making his way down the road to somewhere.  We giggled and let the cow pass.   Back at the resort, we were greeted by our security guard and set up camp for the night once again.

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