Puerto Cabezas (the city is now officially called Bilwi) is an unremarkable Caribbean town. Hot, dirty, very poor, the beaches are trashed, and the place is fairly dangerous. The population is a mix of Latino, indigenous and African. The people there speak four languages, Spanish, English, Creole, and Miskitu, but they speak none of them very well. Parts of this region do not recognize the Nicaraguan government, so as you can imagine, there is very little police and military presence in the area.
Clickable interactive google map.
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It is pretty interesting to pull into a gas station and have the attendant say, “Greetings mon, welcome to Bilwi, where you from mon?
Anyway, the next day we had to go do some searching around for parts. The evening before, Mario had broken his subframe bolts and we also needed a replacement spare tire for the truck. So we went shopping.
Not the same size tire as the other, but it will do the trick.
The night guy at the hotel that hooked us with beer and for the night before took us around town so we could quickly chase down tire and parts. We didn’t know his name but since he kind of looked like Mike Tyson, we just started calling him Tyson. Well, funny thing was that when we pulled up to the tire shop, the tire store guy says, “Hola, Tyson! Como estás? Too funny. Tyson pretty much seemed to know everyone in town and seemed to be a guy that could get you whatever you needed, legal or otherwise.
After we chased down what we needed, we headed to the beach for a while. Here, each little tent had its own 5 million watt sound system, all playing different music. Imagine listening to 5 different songs at the same time, all cranked up to 11, not so fun.
I’m still not sure what happened here. I turned around and she jumped in my lap. Mario, always ready with the camera, probably had something to do with it. When she jumped in my lap, he told me (in English of course) that she probably wanted me to help her get back in that dress that she was falling out of.
Being the middle of Semana Santa, I thought this beach was a bit deserted, as it was the most popular beach in town.
It was a hot day and water looked refreshing, although after seeing this, none of us really felt like swimming.
After that, we went to another more tranquilo spot for food and beer.
The next morning the girls would leave at 4:30 am as it is supposed to take about 16 hours for a car to get to Managua. Mario, JC and I slept in and left about 8 am. Well, Mario and I arrived at the ferry about 20 minutes after leaving the hotel, but JC was nowhere in sight.
Local river transport
You can buy breakfast right on the little river ferry, which we did while waiting for JC, because we found out from a local motorcyclist that he was headed down the wrong road to the Honduras border.
Finally, after a 3 hour solo northeastern Nicaragua tour, JC arrives and we can get moving toward Managua.
We made it to Managua after riding a couple of hours into the night dodging suicidal cheeken boose drivers and animals in the road. 100 watts of HID light is essential for night riding in Central America. Miraculously, we pulled into the hotel 2 minutes behind the girls in the truck. It took them 16 hours and change. It took us 10 hours on the bikes, and that was dealing with flats and taking plenty of breaks. Dirt road trips are always significantly quicker on bikes. We have no pics of the rest of this day except from Marios phone camera. I did have a pretty spectacular crash going through some whoops. I almost pulled it off but I got the bike crossed up on the last whoop and went down. The next day I was having a hard time walking since I banged up my ankle, knee, and hyper extended my thumb. Fernanda, wearing a frown of disapproval, just shook her head at me and said, “well Vicente, I guess no chicas for you for a while.” Funny woman.
We went to Granada the next day and the place was packed with tourists and locals for Semana Santa. Granada is the tourist city in Nicaragua. It has some old colonial charm, lots of neat old buildings and plenty of swanky shops and restaurants designed to relieve you from your cash. Nevertheless, its a great place to stop and kill a day or two.
On the way we stopped at the active volcano Masaya. You can drive right up to the cauldera and into the sulfur cloud. Pretty cool actually.
Supposedly, the cross was put there to keep the evil spirits living in hell from coming out of the volcano and terrorizing the earth.
And finally we pull into Granada.
This is a Semana Santa procession with mock caskets of Jesus. You see these things coming down the street by the dozen, and it goes on all week long.
Of course there are horses in the streets, after all, this is Nicaragua!
“¡Hey! Granada is not a trash can. It is our city.” It was good to see this sign. The rest of Nicaragua, or the rest of Central America for that matter, could take some lessons from this.
Hey, dont forget to honor your ancestors too!
Fernandita met a street artist that painted and sold tiles. This guy was from near Bluefields on the Caribe coast, and was walking around working the people sitting in the outdoor restaurants. He always had a big smile on his face. He tried numerous times to paint a tile for us, and we refused every time. Then he just sat down next to us and says, “I’ll tell you what mon, I paint a tile, and if you like it you buy it from me mon.” OK, fair enough, paint away amigo.
Fer was stoked. I crack up every time I look at this picture. Of course his sales tactic was successful.
We ate and drank and then returned to Managua for the night. The next day my Salvadoreño family left for San Salvador. It was a very sad day for me. The hospitality that they showed me was incredible, and I made some life long friends. Mario, Fernanda and the girls are fantastic people and I already miss them very much. Muchissimo gracias!!!!!
When I left Managua I decided to make tracks toward Costa Rica. I stopped by the volcanic island of Ometepe in the middle of Lago Nicaragua a took a “here I am shot” and went on my way.
I spent a night a little further south at the very touristy beach town of San Juan del Sur. Although touristy, it is quite a nice tranquil beach town and worth a couple of days. If you’re a surfer, there are many world class breaks a short drive away, although the bay has no surf. Since I was still gimping around a little bit from my crash, I couldn’t do any surfing anyway.
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My last Nicaraguan sunset. The next day would involve yet another border crossing into Costa Rica.
Saludos, Vicente