|October 10, 2010
When I woke up this morning I was still a little quizzy but I had to get a move on. I am so paranoid about police now. I made it to Leon around noon. It was about 150km’s Antigua it is not! It’s quite hot and humid here. We are only 20km's from the ocean. This region is supposed to be the hottest in all Nicaragua. I can deal with it though. I am staying at a hostel called Via Via. I drove Electra through the bar, through the dining area and have her parked next to the kitchen. Yes - there was a silent moment.
When I was driving around looking for the hostel I ran into some other travelers and they pointed me in the direction. From what I can make of Nica it is quite a hole when compared to all the other countries I have been to on this trip. But once again, first impressions can be deceiving. And by hole I mean everyone wants something from me. Can deal with the filth. It’s the same as the rest. The highways are good though. I have only been on the TransAmerican and #26. I am sure that if I go to Bluefields that will change. First I need to chill and get my shit together. Unloading my gear at the Via Via I think I lost my little point and shoot. People reading my blog must wonder how can he keep loosing shit. Come and travel with me for a month for so. You’ll get it.
There is internet at the Via Via but its India slow. Yep, that slow. There sure are a lot of gringos here. It’s kinda spooky. At least I’m not the center of attention. The hostel cost me C.350. This is expensive. The currency here is the Cordoba and the exchange is about C.20 to USD$1 so it’s the same as Honduras. At least my brain won’t have to work too hard on that front.
The bike seems to be running fine.
Apparently it is Thanksgiving Day. I don’t see anything of the sort down here.
All of a sudden I feel tired. Real tried but I have to wait for the room to be cleaned.
October 11, 2010
I got up around 8am and was walking around by 9am. I went to a few museums. The best was a museum about the ’79 revolution. In it they had a picture of Regan. Fuck did I laugh. I don’t know if they ment it to be a joke but to me it was. What a sorred time for the US and this area of the world. Now they have the ultimate enemy, one that will never dissipate, terrorism. Oh well.
After the museum I went to an internet café and made a few calls and emails. I couldn’t get a hold of anyone. It must be a holiday back home. Thanksgiving? I wonder if that is a national holiday. I suppose I could look it up on the net.
I am really getting lonely. I really don’t meet that many people. Especially where I came from, I only saw a few tourists and it’s hard just to walk up to someone and just start gabbing. I find that the less I communicate the more difficult it becomes to start a conversation. It’s kinda like the gym. Get a routine and its no problem but miss a few days and it’s tough to get back and the more days you miss the tougher it gets.
My only contact with the outside is facebook. And that is starting to suck too. What the hell did I do in the past while traveling? Have I turned into that much of a pussy? Maybe I need to come home for a few weeks. I’ll have to talk to Jeff. I would like to coincide it with some business. I wonder when Mobile’s yearend is? I’ll have to look it up. OR call Kent. I haven’t heard much so I assume all is well. I know it’s in the best hands it could be in so I don’t worry about that business at all. Not that I worry about Speedy; it’s just that Mobile is an investment.
The bar I am sitting at is like something out of a movie. There is salsa music playing and I am watching some guys play pool. It is mid-afternoon and very smoky. I can see the rays of sunlight coming through the bay doors. The doors look out onto a busy dusty street where everything imaginable is going on. Trucks moving shit, people selling stuff, beggars, school kids going home, horns, car alarms – the whole nine yards. There is an old lady mopping the weathered tile floor of the bar. I am listening to Steely Dan’s, ‘Do it Again’. It’s over 30 degrees and humid. There is an old man, gringo, drinking beer at the bar. It’s only locals playing pool. And a few hippies that speak perfect Spanish. They have been here a while. The ceiling is about 20’ tall and the fans are sweeping the air. It’s a waste of electricity. I suppose I shouldn’t complain about my situation. But what do I do after writing? Go back to my room? Same old shit. I suppose I could have a shower. The water in the water tank on the roof should be luke warm by now.
I could go for something to eat. Not hungry. Too hot out. I had a vegi omelet for desayunos and a double cappuccino. It was good. Cost me $5 though!
Tomorrow I think I will walk around the city again. It’s actually a really nice city. It’s no San Miguel nor Antigua but it is nice just the same, just a little rougher is all. It’s a hell of a lot nicer than where I just came from.
Even the long term hippies look at me with a question mark in their eyes. Maybe they just want to talk – I typically have a connection with them. I met a couple of kids from OZ when I was riding into town. They where the ones that actually gave me the directions to the Via Via. They are cool. The one guy seems to have a little something about me, I can’t figure it out. Sometimes I get this and I don’t know why. Tattoos? Traveling by bike? I dunno. I talked to them for an hour or so last night. Good guys.
Why is it that everyone who has tattoos and long hair is assumed to be a druggy? This too I am getting sick of. It’s really no big deal and I get it.