ExploringRTW
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Crossing the Costa Rican Border.
On arriving at the Nicaraguan border I was greeted by a “familiar” number of hands all waving me to one point…..none of them had any sort of official uniform on (as is usual) but they seemed to be positioned correctly for the crossing so I stopped. Immediately about 5 of them surrounded the bike and I was a bit more concerned than normal as I’d expected this crossing to be a little easier. None-the -less, there seemed to be one chap who seemed to know what was what and so I asked him what was his price. He said he couldn’t give a price (it appeared a policy determined by officials)-he worked on tips ! I also had the usual wad of the money-changer thrust in my face and so he got my greeting of “uno momento par favor !!” ("One minute PLEASE !!" .......in a now practised frustrated tone).
I trusted my “guide” pretty well straight away and so we set off photocopying this, getting my tyres fumigated and paying for the fumigation. We then had to move onto getting my exit stamps for the bike and myself. This happened in an official looking building which was too far away from my bike to see it and a lad of about 12/13 offered to watch it. He looked ok and so I agreed.(You get these offers in a number of places and it can be quite useful.) I was pointed in the direction of the office area I needed to go and sent off with all my papers. (If it sounds like sending a child off on their first day of school, that would just about be right!)
Inside the office area the queue progress was slow. Whilst I was waiting I met a Czheckslovacian girl who’d been riding through Central and Southern America for 2 years with her boyfriend. We exchanged a few stories and it was my turn at the counter. With the exception of one of the officials forgetting to stamp my passport, it all went smoothly-I would have prefered my guide (or his ‘business-partner’) to have been with me but I think they’d already deduced that I would have opted for the 2nd class border-crossing package given the choice.
That done, I paid my looker, and myself, my guide and his partner all headed towards the border. The omitted stamp(noted at the begining of this paragraph for those of you not keeping up !) was noted by the Nicaraguan guard and my guide dutifully borrowed a bicycle and got the appropriate stamp and returned.
I’d decided after Honduras/Nicaragua that I would be a bit more careful handing out money so I asked one of the official border guards if he though $5 was appropriate. He laughed and said yes, that’s fine..and said that it was up to me anyway…which of course I knew (but I didn‘t want to be unappreciative of their efforts.) , I gave $5 to the main man for the two of them. He received it gratefully whilst his friend pestered me for my remaining Nicaraguan Cordovas, trying to peer into my wallet which was very irritating. I pointed out that I’d paid him and his partner in $US. He accepted it and then came back again in a minute pointing out that I couldn’t spend them in Costa Rica….I said he’d been paid. I checked the face of my guide which had a smile on it-he was satisfied with the pay and knew his mate was just trying it on.
That all done I was introduced to my Costa-Rican Guide, Eric, who seemed even more business like. I won’t bore you with all the details but we had to go to about four counters, buy obligatory insurance for 3 months!!!!, even though I would be there less than a week, and again I felt like a school child all over again. At the end of it all I intended to pay Eric the same $5 I’d paid in Nicaragua plus an additional $1 to his mate who’d kept an eye on my bike on one of our paper-escapdes. Eric’s response, as I paid him, was to look like one of his family members had died…..followed by an equally disappointed sounding “muy poco”(very small). We all stood there trying to resolve the situation amicably but Eric was after $10 and I wasn’t going to give it. In the end I said No !, $5 +$1 was fine in Nicaragua and it was fine here too. I was sorry they weren’t happy but that was it. Head bowed down he wandered off with his mate giggling in a way which implied I didn’t know what I was doing..fair enough…but as I entered Costa Rica it left a nasty taste in my mouth, as did the pork chop I ate 30 mins later !
Mike
On arriving at the Nicaraguan border I was greeted by a “familiar” number of hands all waving me to one point…..none of them had any sort of official uniform on (as is usual) but they seemed to be positioned correctly for the crossing so I stopped. Immediately about 5 of them surrounded the bike and I was a bit more concerned than normal as I’d expected this crossing to be a little easier. None-the -less, there seemed to be one chap who seemed to know what was what and so I asked him what was his price. He said he couldn’t give a price (it appeared a policy determined by officials)-he worked on tips ! I also had the usual wad of the money-changer thrust in my face and so he got my greeting of “uno momento par favor !!” ("One minute PLEASE !!" .......in a now practised frustrated tone).
I trusted my “guide” pretty well straight away and so we set off photocopying this, getting my tyres fumigated and paying for the fumigation. We then had to move onto getting my exit stamps for the bike and myself. This happened in an official looking building which was too far away from my bike to see it and a lad of about 12/13 offered to watch it. He looked ok and so I agreed.(You get these offers in a number of places and it can be quite useful.) I was pointed in the direction of the office area I needed to go and sent off with all my papers. (If it sounds like sending a child off on their first day of school, that would just about be right!)
Inside the office area the queue progress was slow. Whilst I was waiting I met a Czheckslovacian girl who’d been riding through Central and Southern America for 2 years with her boyfriend. We exchanged a few stories and it was my turn at the counter. With the exception of one of the officials forgetting to stamp my passport, it all went smoothly-I would have prefered my guide (or his ‘business-partner’) to have been with me but I think they’d already deduced that I would have opted for the 2nd class border-crossing package given the choice.
That done, I paid my looker, and myself, my guide and his partner all headed towards the border. The omitted stamp(noted at the begining of this paragraph for those of you not keeping up !) was noted by the Nicaraguan guard and my guide dutifully borrowed a bicycle and got the appropriate stamp and returned. I’d decided after Honduras/Nicaragua that I would be a bit more careful handing out money so I asked one of the official border guards if he though $5 was appropriate. He laughed and said yes, that’s fine..and said that it was up to me anyway…which of course I knew (but I didn‘t want to be unappreciative of their efforts.) , I gave $5 to the main man for the two of them. He received it gratefully whilst his friend pestered me for my remaining Nicaraguan Cordovas, trying to peer into my wallet which was very irritating. I pointed out that I’d paid him and his partner in $US. He accepted it and then came back again in a minute pointing out that I couldn’t spend them in Costa Rica….I said he’d been paid. I checked the face of my guide which had a smile on it-he was satisfied with the pay and knew his mate was just trying it on.
That all done I was introduced to my Costa-Rican Guide, Eric, who seemed even more business like. I won’t bore you with all the details but we had to go to about four counters, buy obligatory insurance for 3 months!!!!, even though I would be there less than a week, and again I felt like a school child all over again. At the end of it all I intended to pay Eric the same $5 I’d paid in Nicaragua plus an additional $1 to his mate who’d kept an eye on my bike on one of our paper-escapdes. Eric’s response, as I paid him, was to look like one of his family members had died…..followed by an equally disappointed sounding “muy poco”(very small). We all stood there trying to resolve the situation amicably but Eric was after $10 and I wasn’t going to give it. In the end I said No !, $5 +$1 was fine in Nicaragua and it was fine here too. I was sorry they weren’t happy but that was it. Head bowed down he wandered off with his mate giggling in a way which implied I didn’t know what I was doing..fair enough…but as I entered Costa Rica it left a nasty taste in my mouth, as did the pork chop I ate 30 mins later !
Mike
