Nancy's Blog

The bus cruises past miles of semi trucks waiting in line to cross into Nicaragua and comes to a halt amid deafening calls from men I cannot understand. They are stacked three deep behind a barbed wire chain link fence, some with tables and umbrellas and some under the hot mid day sun , waving their arms and vying for attention. “What do they want,” I asked a woman in my broken Spanish. They are money exchangers, and the bundles they wave are currencies they are eager to trade for a small fee. We get our passports stamped, get back on the bus, and cross over 100 yards into Nicaragua. There we heave our luggage onto a hand hewn long wooden table on a platform in the open air. Vendors accost us with cashews, purses, belts, candy, cup-o-noodles, sim cards, and steaming plates of rice with gravy. Women carry improbably large baskets on top of their heads and beggars plead for spare change. A man takes our passports and points us to the guy with the Dodgers baseball cap who examines our luggage. All clear, we reboard the bus and head north to Granada.

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19.12 | 16:15

Hi,These are some photos I took. I like to take Self Portraits. I will be taking more pictures of Costa Rica. Thank for your selfy. --

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