San Juan Del Sur, Nicaragua.( Costa Rica border to San Juan del Sur by bus )

We departed the Costa Rican bus and walked to the border checkpoint which looked a touch chaotic with no signage or directions. We headed for what looked like an official building and approached the counter. "habla Ingles?" we enquired and were met with a firm "no!". It's our fault as we have been very slack with our Spanish learning, but have been trying with an App that we downloaded which is actually very good but we just don't put the hours into it as we need to. So after a short and frank exchange in terrible Spanish on our account we were told we could not leave the country unless we paid the tax which was in another building. After walking about aimlessly outside we were befriended by a taxi driver who thought he might have a fare out of us (and we did not discourage him at this stage) so helped us with finding the tax office and paying our dues which was $7 each. Then we had to go back to the immigration office and this time they granted us an exit stamp. We then walked out into no mans land between the two borders.

Candy skull scared all the punters off so the bar closed down.

  There were no signs to say where to go so we followed the only road for about 1km until we were ushered over by some guard type people who checked our passports and then told us to carry on. We then found another office, not sure what it was as again no signs but saw a group of people outside so ambled in. Inside we walked through and just as we were getting our luggage x-rayed we were pulled back and told to go to immigration again. Mr taxi driver strikes again! At a very relaxed immigration desk they checked over our docs and then declared we needed to pay an entry tax. Another $12 each, not a fortune but annoying as it was eating into our back up dollar supply. We then got our entry stamps and proceeded to get our luggage cleared and headed outside. It was a bit chaotic outside and was reminiscent of our time in India with all and sundry vying for our attention and to part us from our Dollar stash. In frustration we walked off in what looked like the right direction but some very animated guy behind a barred wall started shouting at us we were going the wrong way. We ignored him as everybody was shouting at us for something or another but at the end found out we had gone the wrong way so had to retrace our steps. Another checkpoint was found and passed through and then we were befriended by a bus tout who we could not get rid off and he even followed us onto the bus and started grabbing our rucksacks. You have to keep your wits about you here as there are a lot of people who would be willing to distract you to steal your property. The bus was an ex-American school bus that was worse for wear and very uncomfortable.

You kids stop smoking and snogging on the back seats.

 Locally it is called a chicken bus and is the Nicaraguan staple for the public transport around towns. The shifty ticket guy ripped us off for the bus fare as we had no local cash so paid dollars but turned out to be 70p each instead of 25p each so no biggy there. We were then dropped off at the side of the road half an hour later and had to walk to another road and wait on the side of the road for another bus to pass. We met a yank girl who seemed to know the ropes as we had done no research at all on Nicaragua so took her lead. A bus was flagged down and our luggage tossed onto the roof with little care by some lacky and we were rammed into the back of another school bus nervous that we could not see our bags. The bus took off at speed, jerking back and forth, while we were trying to keep on our feet as there was standing room only. Also I kept my gaze on the back window in case our bags came flying off as they were not strapped down. We later found out that Lonely Planet says 'do not put your bags on the roof'! Too late for that.
   Tracking our progress on our GPS we shouted out to the lacky we wanted to get off and sure enough we squeezed off right outside our new accommodation. After we were offered the wrong rucksacks off the roof which was worrying, we rocked up and started shouting to find someone to let us in. We had hired a studio which was owned by a local family who lived directly behind it. Inside it was small but had everything we needed including a fitted kitchen. Best bit though it was under half the price of anywhere we had found in Costa Rica. We ventured out later to the market across the road and were pleased to see all foodstuffs were peanuts to buy and best of all beers super cheap. I think we are going to like it here. That night we cooked up some nice food in the kitchen which made a nice change to eat something that you actually wanted and would not give you a deep fried heart attack.

The only boat here that was scared of the water.

   Next day we walked into town which was ultra laid back, with a massive volcanic sandy beach and calm seas. It has all the usual tourist cafe scene hangouts and was most agreeable to stroll about. We found some dudes that worked for Movistar to sort our phone out as it was now working on roaming but all they were interested in was selling us another SIM. As we had paid for a months plan in Costa Rica and it still worked so we decided to see how it went. After strolling about and having lunch, walking the beach and hassling tourist info we decided there was not that much to do but enjoy the ambiance of this seaside resort. So we checked out the beach side bars and found one knocking out some classic rock on the jukebox so planted ourselves there for a local Tona beer and watching the sunset which was flawless. We walked back in the dark to our studio which we found out later that Lonely Planet says not to do as muggings on tourists are frequent after sunset. We found the Internet not working so put a complaint in as you would expect from us and watched some American film badly dubbed into Spanish and decided that was our Spanish lesson for the day while quaffing the local rum which is very tasty and unrealistically cheap.

A view from a bar.

   The studio we are staying in did have an issue though. If you left the windows open, the mosquitoes would invite themselves in for a munch fest. But if you kept them closed the temperature inside was unbearable. In the morning the heat was so intense we opened the window for a short while but I sustained 8 bites in 10 minutes, Daz somehow managed to avoid their attention.. Windows closed again we had to sort a solution so went downtown to the market to see what they had. There we found some old onion bags which we took back and gaffer taped them over the open windows to make homemade mosquito nets all for the grand sum of 50p. Job done! They worked a treat.

Check out the onion bag mosquito net.

 Then the Internet people came around to fix it and left the door wide open to invite further blood suckers in which resulted in me acquiring bites 9 and 10. Oh, happy days. We tried to walk up to a viewpoint later in the day that has a copy of the Christo Redeemer statue which is in Rio on top of a hill that overlooks the bay but when we got to the base of the climb up decided it was too hot and plumped for a banana smoothie and lunch. Later in the afternoon we tried again to climb up and see Jesus up on the hill but again at the base we decided it was too hot and somehow ended up in the the same sunset bar on the beach. This time though we took control of the jukebox and kicked off with some Megadeth which the locals did not approve of so they turned up the T.V. louder. The next song was a Nirvana track which was equally not appreciated so no more money was fed into that jukebox for such a uneducated local clientele. Beer downed, we this time took the Lonely Planet advice and trudged back before all the light had faded away for the night to check on our onion bags.

Was this a new gay club in town?

Deciding it was much too hot to walk about we decided to hire a bike to get about on. We looked about for a deal but this was not Asia and the prices quoted unrealistic for our budget. Luckily after a good haggle with a right dodgy outfit on the edge of town away from the tourist zone we managed to get one for $20 rather than the $40 everyone else was asking for a days hire. Very high hire prices for very poor cheap bikes. We hired an off road bike as the roads are appalling around here so needed the extra suspension travel for comfort. The owner wanted to keep Daz's passport but I did not trust him so gave him Daz's drivers licence as a deposit and roared off up to the Jesus statue that presided over the bay which we failed to climb twice the previous day. Again it was a killer hot day but had a nice breeze once we arrived at the top and paid our $2 each. We were rewarded with some excellent views across the bay and out to sea.

This is what Jesus has to look at every day. It's tough being a messiah.

 Then it was back to town for a spot of lunch then we drove 'The Chocolate road' to a secluded beach called Maderas which was the local dude and surfer hangout. The road there was a dirt track, extremely stony and rough, dusty with me on the back getting tossed around like a bag of spuds. That 5 miles seemed like 10 by the time we arrived but the beach was excellent, with a big wide sandy area, lots of dudes surfing the barrels and a backdrop of wooden floored, grass roofed, chilled shacks serving the obligatory cold beers. The sea was a lot colder than Asia and too cold for us to swim in so we settled for a paddle and a beach stroll until we were overcome by the heat thus retiring to one of those grass roofed beach front sanctuaries.

You can't have a beach bar without driftwood furniture.

 As the shadows lengthened we headed back to town and had a further burn about to check out the 'local' parts of town until we handed the bike back as we did not want to be cruising about in the dark due to safety concerns. We decided that night that it was time to move on in the morning as San Juan Del Sur was done so choose our next destination which would be the twin volcano island of Ometepe.