Onward!

Location:

Nicaragua

I race over to the Nicargua side of the border and ask in my broken Spanish if they will process the bike this evening and the Aduana nods his head to me. Running back to Honduras, we sign us and the bike out. We are now in no mans land.

Kevin deals with the Nicarguan Aduana for the bike. I take our passports to Immigracion for stamping. The officer looks at his watch and waggles his finger "No - manana a las ocho". It is ten past five. My heart sinks and he sits there smugly and repeats his phrase.

You know what comes next. We pay double for our Nicaraguan tourist immigracion card, but he then lets us in. The bus arrives at the border five minutes later to take all the border staff away and in the time it takes us to get oursleves sorted the border is deserted. We have made a double border crossing on one day by the skin of our teeth.

We then realise we have no Nicarguan cordobas and what´s more we are losing light rapidlay. There is a small comedor over the border and a one eyed old man called Raphael, shuffles out with a wad of notes in his hand. We get another fleecing on our rate, but change enough money to get fuel and lodging for the night.

We end up in Ocotal, now knowing that we have really taken a big chunk nack out of the lost day.