Nicaragua: Take Two

Nick and I have been blazing along down the Americas. In Central America, though, the border crossings got significantly more significant.

• Beaver Creek (Alaska into the Yukon) was super easy. Canada don't care. (As long as you don't have a gun.)
• Sweet Grass (Alberta into Montana) was a little steeper, but not bad. The US is a bit finicky.
• El Paso (Texas into Chihuahua) took some time, but we've crossed into Mexico before, so no big deal. This was a bit easier than last year.
• La Mesilla (Chiapas into Guatemala), the border crossing was an outdoor mall. Had to fumigate the bikes, then stop by a couple windows. Lot of folks around, but easy enough to work through the crowd.

  

  Fumigation of the bikes upon entry into Guatemala.

• Las Chinama (Guatemala into El Salvador) is where it got hairy. All kinds of "helpers" haunt the border. I recalled reading somewhere that they can really speed up the process. Not convinced that was the case, though. We were bombarded on the Guatemala side, and conceded to assistance. Got out of the country without too significant of issues, though the "helpers" just made things feel way more hectic. On the El Salvador side, no helpers, and time is absolutely not of the essence for those officials. We got our documentation filled out and turned in, then waited...and waited...and waited... Finally, well after darkness had fallen, the officer came out of the container-station and looked out bikes over. We were ready to roll. Buuuut...he directed us down the hill, where we waited...an -- you get the idea. Finally, after nearly 3 hours at the border (2 hrs, 46 min: 17:55 to 20:41), we were on our way. Roughest border so far. Emphasis on "so far".
  
  
  
  
• El Amatillo (El Salvador into Honduras) surpassed Las Chinama not only in duration, but also in monetary difficulties. We thought we'd try the "helpers" again, who at first seemed quite organized an quickly-moving. The one fellow -- "Ronny" -- spoke excellent English and kept us more-or-less entertained while we waited for his buddy -- "Osmán" -- to do the footwork. Osmán scurried around and we got out of El Salvador without too much issue...45 min or so. Osmán, Ronny, and Rolando loaded up in a mototaxi and lead us across the bridge to Honduras, where the real issues began. It was crowded and our bikes kept getting eyeballed, so we were uneasy to begin with. We did our part at the aduana, paid our $3 for personal entry, and waiting for Rolando to sort out the bikes. After some time, it began to rain, and we still waited. Eventually, Rolando approached us with a disdainful look on his face. He explained that there was an irregularity with Nick's documentation and took Nick back to the aduana. At first it was because "Nick" was on one document and "Nicholas" was on another. When this proved to be false, it became a problem with Nick's wife being listed as TOD on the title, but she was not present to allow the bike into the country. The "helpers" continued to give the appearance of working their magic, but it was arduous. I made a friend and practiced some Spanish in the meantime, as there was little else I could do. In the end, and -- to my recollection -- nearly 5 hours later, we dropped some extra cash and were allowed into Honduras. No doubt someone took us for a ride, whether it was the "helpers", the officials, or some combination thereof. This experience led us to avow not to use the "helpers" in the future.
  
  
  
  
• El Espino (Honduras to Nicaragua) was refreshingly chill when we arrived. It was early in the day and although there were "helpers", they were not nearly as aggressive as the previous two borders. The border agents were easy-going and the border was not crowded at all. We got checked out of Honduras and made it down to the Nicaraguan border. Still very chill, but right off the bat, we hit a snag: we had not acquired a "solicitud" or response from the government to allow us into the country. Apparently, within the past 6 months, this has become a requirement and somehow Nick and I both missed it in our pre-trip research. One border agent came out to interview us, seeming to believe that might suffice in place of the solicitud. But a few minutes later, his boss came out of the booth and grouchily explained that we needed to return to Honduras, fill out the solicitud, and email it to the Nicaraguan government. Not something we could do right there, and we shouldn't expect a reply before a minimum of 2 days. After some hemming and hawing and hoping for better news, we reluctantly headed back up the hill to the Honduras aduana. There, we filled out the form, found a speck of cell signal, and emailed it off to the Nicaraguan government. While we awaited a response, I happened to notice a Facebook message from another motocyclist on a similar trek and not far off. After some conversation, and with hope of receiving a message from the Nicaraguan government the same day dwindling, Nick and I elected to get back into Honduras and await comrades.

  

  We made it down to that building at the end of this road on the left: about 650 feet into Nicaragua.

  
  
  

So there it all is: the saga of the border crossings so far. Our compatriots, Steve and Jeremy, caught up with us the next day, but we had already agreed that we would all cross together on 12 June. So we took today to prepare ourselves, do some research on Nicaragua (which may be our greatest challenge), get paperwork in order, see to the bikes a bit, and generally enjoy the company of two more bikers.

If only the border guards had as much fun with their jobs as this guy in Guatemala.