Speeding ticket?

  Rivas, Nicaragua
Thursday, June 14, 2007

On June 14, 2007, we woke up sweltering hot in the van after a sleepless night. Grouchy, we headed down to the lake for a morning dip to cool off and refresh ourselves. Laguna de Apoyo has nearly crystal clear water along the shore before the land drops off and the water darkens to a near black colour. Michael swam around in the lake, however Geraldine decided to play it safe and stay close to shore. The locals all have concrete wash basins stuck right in the lake and a family was doing their laundry about 20 metres away from us. It is a wonder how long the clear water will last if it is used as a big wash tub by the locals.

Free camping at Laguna de Apoyo.

Towelled off and ready for a new day, we turned 'Nilla over and headed out of Laguna de Apoyo. We were both impressed by how well 'Nilla climbed the steep road out with little complaints. Back on somewhat level ground, we got a bit more speed in the wheels and journeyed to Granada. Granada is advertised as a walk back into colonial times as the period homes, churches and commercial buildings are now restored and brightly painted as if it were still the 16th Century. This old city is nestled along side Lago de Nicaragua and exudes history. The city wears the handle of "The Great Sultan", which is reference to where the name originated across the Atlantic. Granada is the oldest settled community in Nicaragua dating back to 1524. The city flourished as it had a route to the Caribbean Sea via the Lago de Nicaragua and the Rio San Juan; however the success also attracted pirates who came in droves to steal away the riches. Granada is a conservative city and has been locked in battle with the liberal city of Leon for centuries. This ongoing feud was the reason the capital city was established in Managua, which lies geographically in the middle of the two. Granada was also the site where William Walker set up residence during his brief stint as the self-proclaimed President of Nicaragua in 1856. He was summoned by the residents of Leon in order to take Granada and thereby take the upper hand in ruling the country. It worked for a period, but Walker was soon forced out of rule and the country. On his departure he lit the city of Granada on fire and left the infamous placard reading: 'Here was Granada'. Silly Walker.


Street parking in Granada was easy to find and there was a wealth of tourists walking around the main square. We ventured out into town and our first stop was Parque Central, which is covered in massive shade trees.

Central Park Cathedral.

The Cathedral with its exterior painted a mustard-gold shade of yellow stands out commandingly against the backdrop of a pale blue sky. Life in Granada still moves at a slower pace and the preferred method to travel town is by horse and buggy. Vendors can still be seen pushing their goods around town in wooden carts. It was like looking into a crystal ball of times gone by, aside from the sounds of honking cars and buses on the other side of the park. Unknowingly, we had parked near a hostel as we readied ourselves to walk town we met a few other travelers. Tony from Vancouver, BC and Alex from France were staying in Hostel Oasis, which was a few doors down from 'Nilla. We chatted briefly with them at the van and later met up roaming around town. We all walked together down to the shores Lago Nicaragua to take in the views. It was nice to swap travel stories and give each other pointers on places to go as we were headed to places they had already been.


The town of Granada seems to be filled with hotels and churches and we passed many of each walking around. Of interest to us was the Iglesia de Guadalupe. The church was constructed out of concrete that remained unpainted and tarnished with shades of black and green, which we reason were deposits of water mist and airborne debris stirred up from the nearby lake. Iglesia de Guadalupe was originally a fort and converted into a church in 1945. The building is situated at the junction of two one-way streets and was towering sight with empty roads flanking its two sides.

Looking out over Lago de Nicaragua.

It was approaching midday and we convinced our new friends to join us for a snack in Parque Central. We had read about a local dish called vigaron, which is ground yucca, a potato like tuber, topped with pork rind and cabbage salad. Not wanting to miss out on a local delicacy, we all sat down to try it. The dish had great flavour; however the fried pork rind can leave much to be desired when you can still glimpse the pig hair emerging from the skin. Michael did not shy away from that sight, as he simply flipped over the pork rind and kept eating. At least we tried it!


Cruising down the Pan-American Highway, we started to see an increase in road signs marking school zones and speed reductions when students are present. As no children were present and we were not traveling very fast to begin with, 'Nilla likes to keep the pace slow and steady, we did not reduce our speed all that much. We did however slow down immensely when we spotted the telltale orange pylons of a police check point up ahead. Police Officers are not immune to curiosity and we have become accustomed to getting pulled over at nearly every check point, so it came as no surprise when once again we were flagged down. This time though, we noticed that one of the Officers was using a radar gun to track the speed of traffic coming from the opposite direction. Assuming that we had been waved over out of curiosity, we had our license, registration and insurance papers ready for the officer as he approached the window. Handing over the paperwork we asked what the problem was and received a mumbled reply in Spanish that neither one of us understood. The officer took our paperwork, walked around the van, checked out our plates and even peeked in the windows down the passenger side. Standard curiosity. Unfortunately, when he returned to the window, he told us that we were getting a ticket for speeding. "NO!" was the first word out of Michael's mouth. The Officer simply ignored Michael and continued filling out the ticket. Michael was getting worked up and tried to explain with limited Spanish that the Officer behind the radar had been facing the other direction when we approached, however it was all falling on deaf ears. Our registration and insurance was handed back to Michael, along with the infraction slip. Michael's drivers license on the other hand was pocketed by the Officer as he walked away to nab more speeding motorists. Rather agitated, Michael had a hard time stifling his emotion. His Spanish vocabulary was not helping him out, so he continued to yell "NO!" out the window. At this point the Officer behind the radar gun approached the van and showed us a clocked speed of 79 km per hour. Supposedly this was the speed 'Nilla had been driving. The funniest part was that since we had been pulled over, that same radar had been used to pull over half a dozen other cars before we were shown our supposed cruising speed. We sat in the car completely confused as smoke continued to vent out of Michael's ears. We attempted to read the ticket and figure out what to do, but we were at a loss. Michael managed to call the first Officer over and ask for an explanation as to what we were to do with the ticket and how he could get his license back. The Officer took a couple of seconds to advise us that we needed to drive to the town of Rivas, pay the fine at the bank and then return to the police check point to retrieve his license. This did not sound like something Michael was interested in doing as he was still proclaiming his innocence. By now the Officers had had just about enough of us and motioned for us to move along down the road. Michael was still trying to reason with the Police, however when one of the Officers made a motion to put handcuffs on Michael's wrist, he quickly put 'Nilla into gear and were off like the wind. Innocent or not, there was no need to compound the situation by getting thrown in jail.


In Rivas, we drove into town and found the Municipal Police Station, however the office for traffic violations was closed until the morning. Great. Now we had to find a place to hole up for the night in the layover town of Rivas. We inquired about parking at a few local hotels and were denied at every spot. Finally, we found a public parking lot and the security guard was willing to let us pull in and spend the night for C$20, which is a little over $1 dollar. It ended up costing us a bit more as we gave the guard a C$10 tip and bought him a soda pop on our walk around town. Still, secured parking for under $2 for the night was a great deal.

Supermike!

To wind down, we walked around Rivas, however we covered most of the major landmarks and streets within half an hour or less. Michael wanted to relax and we ducked into Restaurante Pollo Dorado for some Latin music and a few beers. We sipped away at large litres of beer until the adrenaline slowed and our exhaustion caught up with us. Heading back to 'Nilla for the night we stopped off at Pizza Hot, not to be confused with Pizza Hut, and grabbed a snack for the van. Neither one of us was in the mood for cooking and the success of our recent pizza experience was still fresh in our minds. Still on the route home, we passed an Internet Café and we were able to log in and read a few incoming messages before the place closed for the night. Finally, we headed for home completely spent of energy.


We had just climbed inside 'Nilla when a deluge of rain poured down on top of us. Rain was leaking in the van from what seemed like everywhere. It must have been the angle we parked on but both the windows and doors on the passenger side had so many drips, it was hard to tell where one leak ended and another started. Geraldine focused on sopping up water inside the van, while Michael threw on his raincoat and armed with garbage bags, he headed outside to plug up the gaps in the doors. The leaks slowed in spots and stopped in others so at least his work was not done in vain. When Michael opened the door to the van to get back in, he was soaked from head to toe. Only his shoulder and torso were dry from wearing the raincoat. The rain had poured on his head, up the sleeves and even half filled up an open pocket on the jacket. It was some of the heaviest rain we have encountered on the trip. We are unsure how long the rain lasted as we fell asleep while it was still coming down in buckets.

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