SAN JOSE TO JINOTEPE
I couldn’t sleep the night before for fear I might miss the Tica Bus to Jinotepe, Nicaragua. I asked the night guard at the hostel to wake me up at 6:15 but I woke him up at six. I quickly dressed, pulled the last of my stuff together, put my backpack on my back and went to flag a cab to the bus terminal.
True to form I was at the terminal plenty early but I was hungry. I went into the terminal café, bought some breakfast rolls and started to have a leisurely breakfast. I was half way through it when I noticed a guy inside the terminal stacking up the chairs and it seemed awfully quiet. This couldn’t be good. I grabbed my half eaten roll, screwed the cap on my juice and headed back through the terminal door to find the place empty and a man opening the terminal gate so the bus could pull away. Wait!!
They waited, the driver opened the bus door and I settled down into my assigned seat--#7. Other than being long the ride to the border was just a 4 hour trip with some nice scenery. That is for the first 3 hours. Occasionally the bus would stop and a person or two would get on and look for a seat. The half full bus that left San Jose was now quite full when we stopped again. As I looked out the window I saw her. A willowy thin woman in her twenties with died red hair and perfect skin and bare shoulders protruding from her tight hot pink camisole top. “Long and tall and tan and lovely the girl from Ipanima goes walking and when she passes each one she passes goes aaaahh” Without even thinking about it the words to the song started passing through my head as she stood kissing her nothing to speak of boy friend. I’m thinking, that is one lucky guy.
One last kiss and she turns and steps on the bus. “Young and tall and tan and lovely,” she starts coming up the aisle. “The girl from Ipanima goes walking and when she passes, each one she passes…” “Aqui” she says and she slithers into the seat next to me with that hot pink, I’m trying not to look top on. Somehow I manage to get my breathing under control and do the only sensible thing a married 63 year old with this gorgeous creature seated beside him can do—I drifted of to sleep until we reached the border.
The border crossing took about two hours. First it was passport control on the Costa Rican side. Everyone else headed into the passport office to get their passport stamped. We had already coughed up the $13 exit tax to two officers on the bus. But me---I took the road less travelled…the one to the men’s room. I had been holding it, hoping I wouldn’t have to use the toilet on the bus and now…it was locked. I waited..and waited for someone to come out. “It must be a one holer,” I thought and some idiot is constipated or something. ‘Why doesn’t he hurry up. Doesn’t he know I’m out here?” Suddenly I realize most of the people from the bus have passed the window coming from the passport office so I leave my first position in the men’s room line and get my passport stamped. I don’t know how much longer I would have to hold it. I had nearly resigned myself to the embarrassment of using the bus toilet. Then I spotted a guy who had been helping us who spoke English. I asked if I needed a key for the men’s room because I never saw anyone go in or out, but the women’s room had steady traffic and even a guy with hemorrhoids should be done by now. He motioned to a woman behind the lunch counter and then pushed the door handle. The door swung open revealing a vacant restroom. Electronic lock.
I took a quick one and ran for the bus. Ipanima girl was waiting for me to board first so I wouldn’t have to crawl over her to get into my seat. She had a Styrofoam box in her hand and the smell of fried chicken wafted from it. I looked out the window as she slid into the seat next to me. I didn’t dare look at that pink top but the smell of that chicken was overpowering. I looked at her well cared for nails as she fingered that chicken. I never knew eating chicken could be so sexy.
The bus rolled forward just a few yards into Nicaragua. We all got off, grabbed our bags from under the bus, lined them all up on a long wooden table and customs agents picked out a few random pieces to seach and told us all to go pick up our passports from a guy who handed them to us as we got on the bus.
The bus rolled on into Nicaragua. Almost immediately I saw the shore of Lake Nicaragua and a huge volcano on the other side. It was an incredible sight. In another hour or so we pulled into Jinotepe. No terminal really. Just a bunch of predatory taxi drivers. I asked one how much it would cost for a ride to Hotel Casa Mateo where I would be staying. 50 Cordobas he says. I calculate in my head, $2.50. Is it far? Not far? I think about walking it but realize how foolish that would be since I had no address for the hotel and had no idea where I was in the town. Suddenly $2.50 sounded like a pretty good deal. And it was.
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