The law in Nicaragua allows tourists to stay in the country for 90 consecutive days. After that, they can a) extend their visa once for up to 90 more days for a small fee or b) leave the country. Since Paul had already exhausted the first option, we decided to leave the country when the visa for the rest of the family expired.
Costa Rica is only about 100 km from Granada. Not a big deal. Chicken bus to Rivas, here we come. We actually managed to catch the bus the second time we tried since we could never figure out whether the bus was supposed to leave at 9:30 AM or 9:45 AM. Well, it turned out that the driver left when he felt like it.
The second time we showed up, we had plenty of time to spare and left promptly at 9:22 AM. The trip to Rivas was pretty uneventful and the conductor was even kind enough to let us know where to exit to catch the next bus to Peñas Blancas. We changed buses and were at the border before Noon. What a smooth ride.
Once there, we had no real clue what to expect. We had investigated this whole thing on the internet and had found a lot of information but being there was still different.
So, the first thing we did was to pay a small municipal fee per person to be able to leave the country. Not sure what that was for.
Then we passed through the first check-point. Of course, we blended in with the rest of them. Not. Paul with his bald head and two white gringas by his side - they don’t show up at the border like this every day.
Next we got in line in the office to exit the country. After paying another small exit fee, we were officially no longer in Nicaragua. So, we walked toward the border to Costa Rica.
By now it was after Noon and the sun was in its zenith. Not a cloud in the sky. My daughter (who had a fever the day before) started looking really pale. We had plenty of water on hand and encouraged her to drink lots of it.
Once we arrived at the checkpoint to Costa Rica, our hearts sank. We were looking at a line of several hundred people trying to enter the rich coast. Oh no!
As luck would have it (or was it a really smart Tico?), we ran into someone who could get us to the front of the line for another small fee. After some negotiation and several glances at our daughter, we settled on a price and moved toward the checkpoint.
Once there, we had to wait until our new-found friend had all of his people aligned before we got the go-ahead to enter the building. He made sure to ingrain in our brains that we needed to line up at window 7 to enter CR and at window 2 to exit. These windows were all but 10 feet apart from each other.
So, we did. After getting our stamps (and not being hassled about missing travel documents) to enter the country, we immediately lined up at the next window to exit. And again, no hassle… Well, that was the best money I have ever spent.
Our new best Tico friend gave us his name and number in case we knew of any others that needed his assistance or in case we needed someone to do the same favor when re-entering Nicaragua.
So, we strolled back the way we came and rested in the shade for a little while before we entered the same building again that we had frequented not 2 hours earlier.
We made sure to line up at another desk so that the same officer wouldn’t have to handle our papers again. And after paying another small fee to obtain a new tourist visa for another 90 days, we were officially back in Nicaragua.
We felt like a million dollars. Off to the bus to go back to Granada. But wait, there was this one checkpoint we had to cross again before we were home-free. So, my ingenious husband put his baseball cap on (that’s going to fool them) and off we went.
The official was still the same. He had either already had his lunch break or he wasn’t going to take one today. As soon as he saw us, he started talking about the fact that we had spent so little time away. I told him that we had to return since my daughter was really sick and she made sure to look the part. He kept repeating that it was just so little time. And I kept saying that my daughter was very sick.
At some point he figured that we weren’t getting it and asked us directly to give him a propina. Oh yes, of course we had a tip for him. And that was the very first time that we bribed an official. Wow. But we were back in Nicaragua and had another 90 days in our passports.
And then there was that municipal fee to be paid again upon re-entry. Go figure…
It was time for a Victoria. Literally. While we were sipping our beer, the bus showed up. We ran (cans in hand) to the bus and were on our way to Granada. Or so we thought. The conductor charged us twice as much as on the previous two trips combined and I was really outraged about it. But heck, we were on our way home.
At some point the road split and the bus turned to the left when Granada was to the right. WEIRD. But the conductor was nice enough to let us know that we had arrived at our destination. I tried arguing with him that we weren’t in Granada and that I had paid so much more only to be left in the middle of nowhere but it was no use.
As luck would have it (again), there was a nice Nico who happened to be at that very spot with his three-wheeler to offer us a ride into Granada for another small fee. I was not happy about any of this.
Our options were a) walk 5 kilometers in the blistering heat with a now miserable child or b) bite the bullet and pay for the cab.
So, again we opted for b. Smart choice.
When we finally arrived in Granada, we counted all of our blessings including the fact that we don’t have to make that trip ever again. In April we can pay another small fee to get our passports extended for the remainder of our stay.
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