Adios Nicaragua

Saturday was the final time Aimee and Ryan would wake up under the Nicaraguan skies.  They had a few hours before they had to get to the airport to fly back, but exhausted after a week of non-stop cultural overload, they decided to sleep in a little bit.  As they knew breakfast was being made for them downstairs they couldn’t hide out in the room too long though. 

When they did finally make it down to breakfast they tried to soak in as much as they could of their last morning sitting in the lobby of yet another beautiful hotel.  As with many of the other guesthouses they stayed at, this seemed like it would have been a perfect location to spend the entire 10 days.   Breakfast was shared with an English woman who was “on holiday” with her daughter.  As with any previous encounters, they shared stories of their adventures and some of the activities and sites that each of them enjoyed. 

After breakfast, Aimee  and Ryan packed up their car and headed out.  During the previous evening’s outing it was too dark to take advantage of the fact that they were near the shores of Lago Nicaragua.  The restaurants and bars were a quarter mile from the shore, and though they began walking towards the lake, it seemed dimly lit and there were not a lot of people around, so they decided it may be safer to avoid walking all the way to the shore.  Instead, they decided that this morning they’d do a quick drive through of the area and see what the view looked like in the daylight.

Lago Nicaragua from Grenada

Woman Carrying Plant on Her Head

This was the first time driving through this end of the city, and though all of Grenada’s streets were fairly narrow, in this part of town they were exceedingly so.  Additionally, as this was the busier part of town with shops, galleries, and bars, there was a lot more traffic.  It was less than an hour drive from Grenada back to the airport, but now they were getting caught in traffic that seemed like it could take us 20-30 minutes just to get out of this part of the city.

After a bit of trial and error to get around the gridlock of the Parque Central area traffic, they made their way through town and on to the highway.  From there it was clear sailing to the August Cesar Sandino International Airport on the edge of Managua. 

As they approached the airport, Ryan had a little bit of anxiety.  Given the issues they had up in Matagalpa, including getting stuck in mud, towed out, etc. he was a little bit worried there’d be extra scrutiny around returning the car. 

Unlike larger airports in the US, there was no person standing at the ready with their little hand held computer waiting to check is in.  The lot was very small, cluttered, and had a couple dozen or two little canopies that each covered two cars, and had some lock box/cabinets under them.  Ryan looked and found one that said Alamo, and pulled his car into an empty spot.  There was however no one around.  A couple canopies further, there was an employee of a different rental car company working on something, so Ryan asked him where they guy was from Alamo.  The other young man (in his late teens, maybe early twenties) looked around and said he had just been there, but wasn’t sure where he went.

Ryan and Aimee waited for 5-10 minutes debating what to do.  When they were just about to give up and go into the airport, a guy showed up.  He began checking in the car, and then called in the information on a phone.  There seemed to be some confusion, and in the discussion Ryan could hear them mentioning “the papers”  and references to the “other office.”  It seemed like there might be confusion related to the fact that we had gotten the car from a different Alamo office in the city and were returning it to the airport (even though we had prearranged this.)

After another 10 minutes or so, he apologized, and said everything was fine, but asked us to wait.  He then walked away. He was gone for another 10-15 minutes, and came back and began helping another car that had come in.  Ryan waited patiently, but at one point when the rental car employee was looking over papers, Ryan came and asked how much longer it would be.  The man told him just a little bit longer, and apologized again. 

Once again, Ryan and Aimee were getting nervous about how long they were standing here, and wondered how chaotic the airport would be and if they’d have any issues inside getting to the gate.  They still have an hour and 45 minutes or so, but time was ticking.  The entrance to the airport was in sight, and would have only been a 4 minute walk (with a lot of bags to get there.) 

Finally, another man showed up and began talking with the Alamo employee.  He handed him some paperwork, and the two talked for several minutes over everything.  At the end of their conversation, the first Alamo worker turned to Ryan and said they were ready.   After checking in the car, they said they would give us a ride to the gate, and that we had to go into the Alamo rental desk.  Uggh.  More waiting. 

Ryan and Aimee took the 2 minute drive, gathered there bags and went in, and stood in another line for behind a couple other people.  After another ten minutes or so they got to the front of the line, and the woman at the desk processed their card and gave them their receipt.  In talking with her, she confirmed that the problem out in the lot was that the other Alamo office had a hard time getting them a copy of the rental paperwork quickly, and that was what the hold up was.

With this process behind them, they proceeded to security.  While the airport was a very tiny airport by American standards and there were only 10-15 people in front of them in the Security line, the conveyor belt was packed with belongings piled on top of each other.  Ryan got through fairly quickly, but some of Aimee’s belongings went through the scanner while her shoes were left behind.  Aimee tried to wait for her shoes, but the security guard was sternly telling her she needed to proceed through the x-Ray.  Aimee had dispensed of all of the days’ patience in the car lot,  and tried to tell the woman in English that she didn’t want to lose her shoes.  The woman of course had no idea what Aimee was saying, but told her very clearly in Spanish, she was to proceed through the x-ray.

Ryan was watching this from the other side of the x-ray and was beginning to get in the way as he was stalling waiting for Aimee.  Aimee in frustration finally rolled her eyes and came through Security, whom then urged her to get her belongings and move along.  At this point Aimee got very frustrated that her shoes were still behind half a dozen people’s belongings, and at this point had other people’s things piled on them.  Ryan finally was able to gather enough Spanish words and explained to the security agent the issue, who then called back to another agent behind the x-ray machine whom then found Aimee’s shoes and passed them through, looking very irritated at the entire ordeal.

Ryan and Aimee quickly exited the area, and Ryan reminded Aimee the virtues of not showing visible frustration with airport security personnel…. In any country. 

After this ordeal, Aimee and Ryan certainly thought a final Nicaraguan drink was in order.  They grabbed a table at a Nicaraguan restaurant in the airport and ordered some lunch and a couple Macuas.  Unfortunately the bartender seemed to be a bit new at mixing drinks and between flipping through a bartending book, hints from another coworker, and about 20 minutes of time, the drinks finally came.  One was perfect, and one was bitter/sour with hardly any guava and sugar flavor.  Disappointing. 

After quickly finishing their lunch, Ryan and Aimee boarded their plane.  Ryan had the aisle, Aimee had the middle, and a middle-aged woman with a cellphone glued to her ear, and a loud voice had the window seat.  From the moment she got on the plane, she was carrying on an impassioned conversation with someone on the other end of the phone.  Once the door closed, the flight attendant came by and told her to put away the phone…which she ignored….and a few minutes later again told her to put away the phone,  and the woman acted like she was finishing up….but didn’t.  And a few minutes later again, the flight attendant came to tell her again.  This time, the woman put the phone beside her as if it was off. The flight attendant then went to her seat and strapped in for take off. 

Aimee’s seatmate then pulled the phone back out and continued talking during the taxi, takeoff, and about 5 more minutes into the flight before finally hanging up. 

A few hours later, they were back in the states, landing in Miami Florida.  More than anything at this point, Aimee was excited to get away from her seatmate whom she now referred to as Senorita Touchy-touchy.

In the Miami airport, the two sat and reminisced and laughed about the multitude of adventures from the previous week and a half:  almost getting stranded in the storm at Chacocente, Jose, their tiny but awesome Matagalpa tour guide, climbing a mountain at Selva Negra, getting stuck in the mud on a farm, the long conversation with the ex-cholo deportee… As detailed as Ryan’s itinerary was, it certainly didn’t include these many items.  Yet, it was these adventures, and misadventures, that truly made the trip to Nicaragua as memorable as it was. 

“That is what travel is all about.”  These were the words of a former colleague, and travel partner of Ryan’s in his first blogged adventures when talking about misadventures leading to unexpected encounters.

On this trip, Ryan and Aimee were given additional words of encouragement, by their companion through the tow truck ordeal.  Upon looking at our situation of getting stuck in the mud for several hours on their honeymoon, and riding in the back of a pickup truck with some tow hands, he said it is great that the two of them were still smiling at each other in a situation like this. 

Looking back at the trip while eating dinner in Miami, the entire trip was spent smiling at each other.  As had the year and a half leading up to the trip.  On this, the final day of their honeymoon, what better way to sum it all up than in the words of the tow truck hand:

“Tienes un companera para la vida!”

Yes, this is certainly true.  Companeros para la vida!

A Gateway to Hell

Friday morning the newlyweds awoke not quite as well rested as they would have hoped after the incredible events of the preceding day.   

Though the city of Matagalpa was still in the mountains and cooler than the rest of the country, it was still a bit lower elevation than Selva Negra and was a few degrees warmer, and the room became a bit stuffy with the absence of power for the ceiling fan or the air conditioning.  Ryan had opened the window after the power went out, but the air had been fairly still, and furthermore there had been a decent amount of noise out in the streets.  It had sounded like some sort of human whistle occurring at regular intervals throughout the entire night. It almost seemed as if this was some sort of communication between members of a security patrol monitoring the pitch-black streets.  Whatever it was, it didn’t help with getting a sound sleep.

Shortly before dawn, the power kicked back on, and Ryan and Aimee were able to enjoy some cool air conditioning while they gathered their very muddy belongings for the final long distance drive of their trip.   Before checking out, they wandered downstairs for their complimentary breakfast.  The dining room was a simply decorated, brightly colored, modern, semi-formal dining room with a table that could seat about 10.  Two men were already at the table, one of whom was finishing his breakfast and got up to leave as we sat down.  His travelling companion was only about half way done with his breakfast and remained providing some company and conversation.

This man was French but spoke decent English.  He was visiting Nicaragua on business and was looking at coffee farms in which his company was considering investing.  He’d not done much sight-seeing but had visited the same chocolate factory that Ryan and Aimee had just toured.  After a short conversation, he rose to begin his travels of the day, and Ryan and Aimee wished him safe ones.

After breakfast Ryan and Aimee checked out, loaded up their car, and embarked on the three-hour drive to Grenada… 20 hours behind schedule.  As they were leaving, Ryan made sure to email “Chris” from their next guesthouse, to let him know that we were once again on our way, and expected to be there shortly after lunchtime.

The drive took them behind Lago Xolotlán, through the cities of Tipitapa, and Masaya (this time avoiding dirt roads through farms of any sort).   Though most of the days activities were planned in Masaya, they continued through the city so that they could check in and drop off all their luggage.  The trip between the two cities was a short 20-minute drive, so this detour did not take up too much of the day. 

Though the cities were close in proximity, the character of the two were quite different.  Driving through Masaya, the cityscape was crowded, dirty, and without much apparent character to it.  As we reached Grenada however, the streets became narrow corridors walled in by endless rows of contiguous buildings. The only thing that differentiated one building from the next was that each one was painted a different color.  Tan, pastel pink, aqua, baby blue, sea green, chartreuse…  Anywhere you turned the endless walls flew by in a pinwheel of color.  We found our hotel, Miss Margrit’s Guesthouse, pulled our car up as close as we could, and folded in our mirrors, hoping that left room for cars to get by on the street, and knocked on the door.

 

Streets of Grenada

A security guard accompanied by a dog opened the door for us and led us into a small desk in the central courtyard of the building.  Inside we were met by Keely, who checked us in.  While she was taking care of the paper work, we looked around the courtyard.  It had an elaborately patterned tile floor and beautiful gardens, which much to Aimee’s delight were full of turtles. 

A Turtle for Aimee

Courtyard of Miss Margrit's

As Keely went over the details of our stay, a short man in his late thirties, came walking towards us barefoot, in shorts and a tank top.  He introduced himself as Chris in an Australian accent, and said “You must be Ryan and Aimee.  It sounds like you’ve had QUITE the adventure.”  As it turned out Chris was the owner of the building, and had managed much of the rehabilitation.  The building itself was around 500 years old.  As with any of the buildings in Grenada, there were strict rules about how the building could be renovated.  Including that any of the original adobe mud walls had to remain.  Though all of the original walls had plaster walls erected around them, to provide a glimpse into the buildings history, they left a 30 by 30 inch square section of wall uncovered, and put a wooden frame around it, so that visitors could see the original walls that were behind the renovated walls.

Window to History: Original Wall Behind Plastered Wall

Chris escorted Ryan and Aimee up to their room.  They climbed up to the second floor, and continued climbing up a somewhat narrow staircase ending at a door at the level of a what would be the third floor.  When he opened this door, Aimee and Ryan’s mouths dropped in amazement at the beautiful room.  It was very bright and open with high vaulted ceilings, and small terraces that overlooked the rest of the building as well as much of the city of Grenada. 

Hotel Room Overlooking Grenada

The room had a King size bed, which only took up a small fraction of the floor space in the large room. The bathroom, had an attractively tiled custom shower.

Lunchtime View

After briefly freshening up, Aimee and Ryan decided to take a walk to find a quick lunch before heading back to Masaya for their afternoon activities.  They found a quiet café with a terrace overlooking one of Grenada’s streets, and sat and enjoyed what ended up being a very large lunch.

After lunch, they jumped back in the car and drove over to Masaya.  They had debated a few

activities for the day, and had talked to Chris about them as well, but ultimately settled on driving up to Volcán Masaya and then walking through the Artisan Market.  At this point, Ryan and Aimee envisioned these as leisurely time-fillers of some local site seeing.  However, they were greatly underestimating what was going to be one of the most incredible sites of the trip.

This trip was not Ryan’s first in seeing a volcano.  Two years earlier he was able to tour Volcanoes National Park in Hawaii, and also took a helicopter ride over a lava flow.  However, insurance companies and tort laws in the US preclude you from truly getting anywhere close to an active volcano.  In Nicaragua, that is not the case. 

Volcanoes are a large part of Nicaragua’s history, geography, and identity.  Even their flag has a triangle at its center, which is meant to represent a volcano.  Nicaragua has 19 volcanoes, 6 of which have erupted in the last 20 years.  Volcan Masaya is continuously erupting.

Unlike in America, in Nicaragua, you can drive your car all the way up a paved road to the cone of the volcano, park, and walk all of 20 feet to an observation deck where only a 24-inch-high wall separates you from the 2,000 foot (600 meter) deep crater.  The parking lot is so close that there have been a couple times in the past 20 years when cars have been damaged when a few volcanic explosions occurred, sending rocks out of the crater.

When checking into the park, they told us not to stay for more than 5 minutes.  There were also signs at the observation ledge reinforcing that due to the toxic fumes in the air, visitors could not stay long. 

 

View of Volcan Mombacho from Volcan Masaya Visitor Center

Walking up to the deck, the smell of Sulphur was in the air, and plumes if smoke could be seen emanating from the crater beyond.  As Aimee and Ryan walked up to the edge of the stone platform, they could hear a deep, constant roar, like that of a choppy ocean, but much deeper and angrier in tone.  Across the vast chasm in front of them, the wall of the crater on the other side extended down, down, down, and down further.

It was hard to determine exactly how far down they were looking, as there were only a few vague points of reference, but it was clearly several hundreds of feet, if not a couple thousand feet deep. As your eyes reached the bottom of this pit, it looked as if they were staring directly into a gate way to hell. At the bottom was a vast tumultuous ocean of bright red lava sloshing and splashing about almost as if in slow motion.  The vision was mesmerizing and Aimee and Ryan found it almost impossible to pull themselves away after the recommended time limit.

After they got back in there car, they noticed there was a road that went a bit further up one side of the cone.  They decided to follow this up a bit further, and found a small wooden observation deck.

Ryan Standing on the Main Observation Platform

As they pulled over to stop this, they heard some yelling coming from the main observation area they had just left.  They ignored it for a minute, but then it appeared that a person was calling directly to them.  They couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, but they thought they heard “Cheles estupidos.”  It seemed he was telling them they didn’t belong up there.  However, after they got back in their car, and drove back down, it didn’t appear that the person was of any position of authority in the park.

After leaving the volcano, Aimee and Ryan went into the town of Masaya to the “Artisan’s Market.”  This was known to be the central place to shop for local handmade items.  Originally, the plan had

been to tour this the evening before, as that night they also had folk music and dancing.  Unfortunately, yesterday’s misadventures got them here a day late.  The market took up an entire city block and was in a building that looked like a short stone fortress.  As they parked, a local came up and offered to watch the car.  He also offered to wash the car as well while we shopped.  Since they were going home in the morning and it was not their car, (though it was in DESPERATE need of washing) they declined his offer for the car wash.

Artisan Market

Inside the walls of the market there were hundreds of stalls of paintings, carvings, leatherwork, t-shirts, furniture, anything and everything you could ever desire to remind you of your trip to Nicaragua.  Shortly after entering, a neatly dressed, well spoken man in his 50s approached them and began talking to them.  He persistently asked what sorts of things we were looking for, and offered to help us find them.  It became obvious that he was trying to act as some sort of guide or broker through the market.  Ryan and Aime did not have anything specific in mind, and were much more interested in leisurely browsing and talking amongst each other, and after 15 minutes or so were finally successful in giving him the hint that while they appreciated his help they were doing fine, and he eventually moved on.

This was the last opportunity to get some souvenirs for home, but the two were quite overwhelmed at how many options they now had to choose from.  Eventually they did finally make some decisions, made their purchase and made their way back out to the car.

Outside, they were surprised to see that their car was now spotlessly clean, with a young fellow toweling off the last few droplets of water.  This was not the fellow that they had talked to earlier, but he asked us to hold on while he went and got the other man. 

When he came back, he asked for $25 in return for washing the car.  Although he had done a fantastic job of washing it, Ryan had specifically told him not to.  Additionally, Ryan had very little cash left in his wallet.  He negotiated for a few minutes with the man in Spanish, and ultimately told him, “I only have $7 in my wallet. “  He pulled the $7 out and gave it to him, and showed him that the wallet was in fact now empty.  They man hesitated not quite sure where to go, but wanting to persist.  His friend that had been toweling the car dry looked at the wallet, and looked at his friend and laughed at him, realizing there wasn’t much more he could argue.  At this, he begrudgingly accepted it and thanked us.

Catedral de Grenada

Now that their shopping was complete, Ryan and Aimee headed back to Grenada, where they pulled there car into the courtyard of the building for the evening, cleaned up, and decided to take a walk from the hotel down towards the lake-front where the night-life area was.  This town had a very different feel to it than any of the other towns.  There were a lot of Americans in the area.  There were also a lot of art galleries, that seemed to be owned by and catering to Americans.  The prices also looked a lot more American.  Here there were items for sale similar to what they saw in shops elsewhere, but for 5 to 10 times the price.   On the one side, the city had a neat artsy vibe to it, however on the other hand, it lost a lot of the authentic Nicaraguan feel that much of the rest of the country had.   

Once they passed the Parque Central, there were many historic colonial looking buildings, and the

vibe in the streets began to feel like any of the many nightlife districts in the US.  Music emanating from many storefront bars and restaurants, tipsy patrons wandering down the street with the characteristic wobble of twenty somethings enjoying the transition in life where they still want to stay up and party all night, have a little bit of money to do so, and not many responsibilities to keep them from indulging.

Iglesia de Guadalupe

After a trip full of very cultural experiences, and dining in some pretty local establishments, Aimee and Ryan were somewhat luke warm to this stretch of bars and drinkers that looked like it was simply transplanted from any US city, and dropped into Nicaragua.  Nonetheless, they continued to look to find a place to sit and eat dinner, and enjoy a few drinks in their final night in the town.  Every restaurant they walked past had someone outside who would put a menu in their face and try to get them to come in and eat.  After refusing all these solicitations, and checking out the entire area, they went back, selected one, and sat down.

It wasn’t long after sitting there that they noticed a man in his early to mid-sixties alone at the table next to them.  He seemed to be a bit of a reformed hippy, and had already had several drinks in the evening.  A few times a group of tween-aged boys came by and talked to him, and then went away and came back.  This seemed a bit unusual, and Aimee and Ryan started to pay a bit more attention.  He seemed to be taking on a bit of a condescending fatherly tone with them, and seemed to be more familiar with them than having just had met them this evening. 

Ryan fairly quickly sensed that the man was likely a talker, was a bit drunk, and was also likely to be obnoxious and overbearing in his conversation and opinions.  Several times it seemed the older gentleman was trying to either insert himself in Ryan and Aimee’s conversation, or pull Ryan and Aimee into a discussion about things going on around them.  This was done with the occasional out-loud thought, stated clearly enough for us to hear, and somewhat projected in their direction.  Ryan tried not to take the bait as long as possible, but at one point, the man asked a direct question and conversation was unavoidable.

The man was friendly enough, but it didn’t take long for him to prove Ryan’s intuition right.  He had been in the area for a couple months, and was essentially retired and permanently travelling.  He frequented the area, and did know the boys that were wandering the streets, selling small bracelets to the tourists.  The man went on and on about his travels, about his home in Vegas, about his marijuana grow operation (though he said he was licensed), and several other topics.

At one point the man began to talk about a recent visit to Cuba and how great Cuba is and recommended we visit.  He then went on to say how great the country is because it still has this vintage feel to it with all the old cars on the streets, and how great it was that the government price controls on goods in the country meant that you could buy a rack of lamb for as much as you could a chicken dinner.

Ryan immediately drew a comparison to a recent interview he had heard with one of the Kardashian’s who made very similar comments about visiting Cuba.  He was somewhat taken aback at the naïve wonder that this man (and the Kardashian girl) held for a country that hadn’t been able to progress past the 50s/60s because of the oppressive government that has been in power there.  And that while he was reveling in the fact that government price controls on the price of meat, meant that the farmer that raised and butchered the more costly animal, got paid the same as the farmer that raised the less costly meat, even though he had to work much harder for every pound he sold.  To Ryan, this didn’t sound like the greatest deal to the workers who were getting paid less for their work, due to these price controls that gave this relatively wealthy man (as compared to the common Cuban) the nicer meal for the cheaper price.

After a decent dinner, a few drinks, and a conversation that while pleasant, certainly wasn’t their favorite from the trip, Ryan and Aimee walked back to their hotel, for their final night’s rest in Nicaragua.

A Wrong Turn (pt. 2 The Rescue)

Enrique, Ryan, the Farm Owner (?), and 'Tomás'

Aimee and Ryan introduced themselves to the tow truck drivers.  At this point, Enrique returned, as well as an older man and a young boy, apparently coming to watch the excitement.  (Ryan and Aimee later guessed that this may have been Enrique’s father and son, and/or the owner of the farm.)  Enrique still had not found a light for his cigar and began asking all the new comers if they had one.  At this point Ryan decided to earn some good will from the rest of the towing crew and offered everyone cigars.  Several of them accepted the offer.  Fortunately, someone in the broader group had a light, and Ryan, Enrique, and several of the guys enjoyed some fresh Nicaraguan cigars. 

While Ryan and Enrique enjoyed their cigars they watched while the crew pulled a chain out of the truck bed and connected it to the car.  They began pulling the car with the chain, and the truck’s wheels began to spin, while the car was only sliding back and forth.   Suddenly, Enrique turned and sprinted up the hill again.

Meanwhile, it quickly became apparent that some branches and a big fallen tree trunk were in the way of the car, so the crew began to clear them out and attempt to overturn the large log. Ryan ran over to provide some additional manpower, and quickly the tree and branches were clear. 

The Tow Truck

Enrique Bringing the Heavy Machinery

As Ryan got out of the way and the crew got back to pulling the car, Enrique returned with reinforcements in case the truck couldn’t get the traction it needed to pull the car out---a yoke of two oxen.  They stood at the ready about 10 meters up the hill. After only a few minutes of pulling, and spinning tires, the truck was able to get the car out of the mud, and back on solid ground.  Ryan and Aimee cheered, and the oxen turned and slowly went back up the hill, no longer needed for this job.

One of the towing crew jumped in the car, turned it around, and drove it a little way up the hill.  As the crew figured out what the rest of the plan was, Ryan once again thanked and apologized to Enrique.  Aware that it’s customary to tip locals when they help out, but also aware that he only had only US$1 in his wallet, Ryan offered it to Enrique telling him though he owed him quite a bit more, this was all he had with him.  Enrique laughed, shook his head, put his hands up emphatically declining the offer, and said it was absolutely not necessary.  Enrique wished Ryan and Aimee a good trip, told them to enjoy the rest of their honeymoon and be careful. 

Though $1 wasn’t much, it is likely a non-trivial amount for a farmworker in the rural mountains of Nicaragua, and Ryan was once again humbled.  He and Enrique shook hands and shared a “bro-hug” and said their final goodbyes.

Ryan asked one of the tow crew where the keys were for the car.  He laughed and told him in Spanish “You’re not driving.  We will get it out of here for you.  You’ll ride in the truck.”

As Ryan and Aimee headed to the truck it was clear there was not enough room for everyone up front.  Ryan jumped in the bed, and while one of the crew offered Aimee the front seat, she strenuously declined, and jumped in back with Ryan, and a couple of the other crew.  For the next 30 minutes or so, the crew alternated driving the car behind the truck or pulling the car with the chain.   One driver in particular (who’s name I unfortunately either didn’t get or do not remember, so I’ll call him Tomás as I’ll be referring to him often) was in his mid-50s sat on the tailgate and would jump off every time the chain needed to be adjusted on the car. He’d run back to the car, climb under it, adjust the chain, and run back to the truck and jump on (keep in mind the truck usually started driving before he jumped on, and did not stop for him to jump off. 

Tomás Running to Catch the Truck

Comapañeros Para la Vida Riding in the Truck

During the periods that Tomás was riding, Ryan and Aimee joked with him quite a bit about the predicament.  Aimee was enjoying making jokes at Ryan’s expense which of course Ryan had to translate into Spanish for Tomás and the other crew member to understand.

She poked fun at the city boy trying to drive through the mountains, poked fun at the man not listening to the woman’s suggestion to turn around, joked about how for their honeymoon he left her stuck in a puddle of mud.  The crew was in stitches, laughing hysterically at Aimee who continued to poke fun while smiling dotingly at Ryan.  At one point between the laughing, Tomás looked in at Ryan and grabbed his knee, and said in a sincere and serious tone “Ryan, I have to tell you.  You are incredibly lucky to have a wife that after everything that has happened today, is still smiling, laughing and joking.  It is clear that you two have something very special between the two of you.   You have found someone that will be your companion for life.  A companion for life.”

Eventually, the truck and car made it back to the main highway.  Ryan thanked everyone again, and said that if they could, he’d love to buy them all dinner (as long as it was somewhere that took credit card!)  They looked at each other and talked among themselves in Spanish, and finally said yes, they’re good for dinner.  Tomás said he would ride in our car with us, and the truck would follow.  Ryan asked if they thought the car was still in good enough condition to drive long distances.  They said they thought so, but they popped the hood so everyone could give it a once over.  Ryan climbed under and looked for leaks, and a couple of the other guys checked the oil and transmission fluids to make sure that nothing had caused them to leak out.  They were both full, and nothing under the car indicated a leak.  It was good to go!

Everyone jumped in the car and truck and drove less than a kilometer to a small local restaurant on the side of the road.  They all got out, and walked inside.  There was no electricity, the floor was dirt (and a chicken was walking around.)  There were only a handful of old wooden tables, with plastic yard chairs around them.  As they walked in, Ryan and Aimee received some friendly but confused looks.  Ryan pulled Tomás aside asking if he would be able to pay with a credit card. 

Dinner With the Crew

“Tranquila” Tomás responded.   “We’ll pay for it in cash, and when we get to Matagalpa you can reimburse us.  Ryan asked if he was sure that was OK.  Tomás repeated “Tranquila!”  And said it was fine.

There was a bit of confusion when it came to ordering.  A large picture on the wall offered the choices…or maybe the only meal.  It wasn’t actually clear if there was an option, or just one dish.  Ultimately the food was ordered, and options for drinks were provided.  Coke, or Fanta.  The meal began arriving, a dish at a time.  Tortillas, fresh sour cream, cheese, beans, rice, eggs, and some fresh salsa.  The group fell to a relative quiet, as all enjoyed a much needed, and well-earned meal.  While the group was eating, one of the tow crew pulled out his phone and passed it around showing off the pictures he took of the two goofy cheles riding in the back of a pickup truck on their honeymoon after getting their car stuck.

After dinner, Tomás told Aimee and Ryan that the crew would accompany them to the ATM in Matagalpa, as it was near their office where they were heading anyway.  Tomás again rode with the now well-fed newlyweds so he could provide directions.  On the 30 minute ride back into town Tomás shared his background.  He began fighting as a soldier in the Nicaraguan revolution at the age of 13, and continued fighting for 14 years.   Throughout this time he was shot multiple times.  He lifted up his shirt to show where he had scars from 3 bullet wounds in his abdomen.  He said he still had a bullet stuck in his back.  He also had a scar that ran from his sternum down  to his belt line.   He said that he was full of some sort of plastic, although the cause of this wound got lost in translation. 

Tomás then pointed out that his right foot had extremely limited movement.  He had no ability to bend his foot upwards at the ankle.  At this point, Ryan had a flashback to 45 minutes earlier when Tomás was running behind, jumping on and off the moving truck.  All with a barely functioning foot.

Ryan, Aimee, and Tomás talked quite a bit about their families as well.  At one point, Tomás pulled out his phone and showed off pictures of his newest grandchild. 

Finally, the group made it into the city, navigated the maze of streets and came to an ATM.  Ryan withdrew some cash and asked Tomás how much the dinner was.  Tomás didn’t answer right away though and asked if the newlyweds knew what they were doing for the night.  At this point it was almost 6:00pm and starting to get dark.  There was no way Ryan and Aimee were going to drive 2.5 hours to Grenada tonight.  Ryan had figured he would do some quick searching on Trip Advisor and find a decent and reasonable hotel in the area, but hadn’t yet.  He tried to pass off Tomás’ question and said that he would find somewhere local to stay.

Tomás however pressed on the question.  He began to say something that Ryan didn’t understand.  Ryan could make out something about a nice hotel, and cheles.  Ryan looked at him confused, and once again Tomás said “Tranquila!”.  Ryan tried to change topics to the money he owed him.  Again Tomás said “Tranquila!” and said they’d take care of it at the office. 

Now Ryan was somewhat confused.  Tomás was getting back into his car.  Ryan tried to translate to Aimee what he understood to be going on.  All he knew was they were going to the office, and something about a

Hotel San José

hotel.  A few minutes later, their small motorcade pulled up in front of the Hotel San José.  This was a small guesthouse, with a pristine lobby with shiny white porcelain floors.  Tomás went up to the front desk and spoke with the receptionist in Spanish.  He then turned to Ryan and said something to him as well.  At this point, Ryan was mentally fatigued and confused, so he asked the receptionist if he spoke English.  He did.  He explained that there was a room available for us for $70 a night, that Tomás said that reimbursement for dinner was $20, and that if we wanted to provide Tomás a tip, it was certainly not necessary, but would be appreciated.  Upon the completion of the translation, Tomás, dropped his eyes, and bowed humbly towards Ryan.  Ryan settled up and of course gave him extra for all the help and company that he and his crew provided.  Ryan and Tomás hugged, and then he turned and shook Aimee’s hand, and wished them save travels on the rest of their trip. 

Aimee and Ryan headed to their room, leaving a trail of mud that was crumbling off their shoes, clothing, and suitcases onto the previously spotless white porcelain.  They got to their room to see that it was no less beautiful than the rest of the hotel.  

After a warm shower, Ryan and Aimee realized it was still fairly early. It seemed like this was absolutely a day that needed to end with a drink, so they hit the streets outside and walked around the area looking for somewhere low key to hang out.  After a couple blocks, they came to Rubén Darío park, named for a writer and poet born in Matagalpa in whom the entire country places a lot of pride.  They took a quick walk around the park to see if there were any food trucks that looked interesting.  They quickly noticed that the park was full of teenage and tweenage locals, most of whom had their face stuck in their smartphones.  Then it all made sense---Ryan and Aimee walked under a banner at the entrance of the park.  "Welcome to Rubén Darío Park.  Free Wi-Fi".  

After walking around park once, they decided to head back to one of the first places they walked past: a local watering hole called Vy-Pay.  All the patrons appeared to be middle class locals. It was loud, basic looking, with a TV showing soccer, a bar, a kitchen and somewhat dimly lit. The front of the restaurant was partially open and faced the Park. 

Ryan ordered a Toña beer and Aimee went straight for the Flor de Caña rum (with a bit of coke to mix it with).  They ordered a bit of food as well, and sat and recounted all the incredible events of the day, and the incredible people they met.  

As they finished up their meal, a young girl of about 9 years old, came over to their table, and motioned towards the mostly empty plates.  They weren't quite sure if she was related to one of the workers and was helping clean up, or if she was asking for the food. The answer quickly became apparent as she sat down and began eating every remaining crumb from the plate, and even using her fingers to wipe up every bit of sauce on the plate.  She did not speak any English, but was very polite and spoke fairly clear Spanish, allowing Ryan to engage in some small talk, about her family, and his and Aimee's family.  After finishing the plates she thanked them and left.  

Relaxing and Drinking at Vy-Pay, Matagalpa

Ryan and Aimee were about to leave, when one individual that was sitting at a loud table of locals all night, drinking lots of Toña, turned around and said in very plain English "She saw you guys coming!"  "Where are you from?"

At this point Ryan and Aimee got up and sat down by this individual.  It turns out he was a local named William, who spent many years in the US, got heavily involved in the west coast gangs, "did some really bad things" and ultimately got deported.  He had since turned his life around and was a teacher in Nicaragua.  He explained that the girl's mom would send her and her 2 siblings out to beg for food.  Said they were decent kids, but that the mom was entirely exploiting them.

Ryan and Aimee spent another hour talking to William about anything and everything, including the days events on the farm.  By the end of the conversation, William said he wanted Ryan and Aimee to come to his wedding in a couple weeks, however, they would be long gone and back in their normal routine in the states by that time.

The crazy day finally started catching up with the newlyweds as it was approaching 10:00pm, and they decided it was time to get back to the hotel and go to bed.

When they got back to the hotel, the two of them climbed into bed looking forward to a good night’s rest after an incredible day.  Although by any measure the day could have been considered a disaster, Aimee and Ryan agreed that this ended up being one of the highlights of the trip to date---an unparalleled adventure, and the opportunity for another reminder that in every corner of the world you can run into some of the best of humanity, with whom only a brief encounter can create memories that will have a lasting impact on the rest of your life.  Today was perfect evidence of why they picked a location like Nicaragua.  Although it hadn't exactly been planned this way, it provided the environment within which they were able to create bonds with a Nica farmer, tow truck hand, nine year old beggar girl, and a reformed gang member.  This is what makes travelling worthwhile.

As Aimee and Ryan were finishing up final messages for the day back to their families at home, letting them know the adventures were done for the day and they were safe in a hotel room, there was a bit of a “pop” heard outside in the distance, and suddenly the power went out in their hotel.  They looked out the window, and it was clear that this entire section of city had no power.  They laughed, shook their heads, climbed into bed, and went to sleep.  The power remained out until shortly before dawn.

A Wrong Turn

Thursday did not go as planned.

After a hard day of hiking the day before, ending with a few hours of eating and drinking in the Selva Negra restaurant, both Aimee and Ryan were sleeping soundly.  However, as will happen after an evening of imbibing, Ryan had to get up to use the restroom in the early Thursday pre-dawn hours.  As he was returning out of the bathroom towards the bed he went to turn the light off, but at the last second noticed a dark spot on the crisp white sheets at the corner of the bed under where his pillow had originally been. 

Half a sleep and groggy, his brain tried hard to figure out what it could possibly be.  It was slightly larger than a quarter.  There was a canvas roll shade and a window sill above, and the best he could come up with, was that it must have been some sort of dust bunny that perhaps fell out of the shade when they unrolled it before undressing the night before.  Ryan decided however to leave the light on so he could confirm, and remove whatever it was before climbing back in bed.  He walked up closer to it, and put a knee on the bed to enable getting a closer look.  Even before leaning in, his half-conscious brain calculated the most likely answer to what he was looking at.  In shock, Ryan smiled and began laughing.  Aimee began to stir as he continued staring at the corner of the bed not knowing quite what to do.  She rolled over and more immediately realized what was there, and let out a scream. 

It was a small toad.

It seemed unaffected by the loud noises of its new bunkmates, and simply sat taking in the views of the now illuminated room. 

After getting his brain to wake up enough to develop up with a plan to remove Mr. Toad, Ryan, went to the table in the living room and grabbed a drinking glass, and quickly placed it over the top of the frog.  With a little help from Aimee, they slid a folder under the glass, and Ryan escorted it to the door.  He quickly flicked the opening of the glass out the door, took a quick look to make sure it was empty and closed the door.  While Ryan and Aimee joked about the unexpected visitor, Ryan walked into the bathroom with the glass, and switched hands.   He was startled to see that the toad was still in it, holding tightly to the bottom of the glass.  He quickly went back outside with it, laid the glass sideways on the ground, and left it there.

Last Breakfast in Ryan and Aimee's Booth at Selva Negra

Now that the disturbance had been dealt with, Aimee and Ryan returned to their slumber, completely unaware that this would be the least of their excitement over the next 24 hours. 

The Serene View of the Selva Negra Pond

After getting a few more hours of sleep, the two woke up and began packing up their belongings.  Today was another day of driving, this time to the city of Grenada, followed by an evening at the Artisan’s market in the nearby city of Masaya which featured folk music and dancing.  Aimee and Ryan grabbed their last breakfast on the Selva Negra pond, settled up their tab from the last 3 days, and jumped in the car.  It was a little later than they had planned to get going, but this was another day without a rigid schedule.  As they were leaving, Ryan noticed he had an email from their hotel in Grenada asking for confirmation that they would be there.  He responded affirmatively, and that he looked forward to staying with them tonight.

The city of Matagalpa is in the Northern mountainous area of Nicaragua.  The city is a tall narrow city, and out of the Northern tip is a highway, that heads straight North (though with some weaving and winding) about 10km to Selva Negra.   Due to the mountainous terrain, there are not many other roads that intersect with the main Highway.  Grenada, as the crow flies, was 3 hours to the south.   As Ryan and Aimee pulled out of Selva Negra’s access road, Google maps told them to take a right.

Ryan looked at his phone confused.  “Right?   That takes us north, up the mountain, away from Matagalpa, and in the opposite direction of Grenada.  Ryan zoomed out on Google Maps, and it showed that they would loop around and then head south.  After debating what his gut told him vs. what google told him, Ryan decided that Google was likely more knowledgeable than him and turned right.  They continued heading north about another 15 km.  Google maps indicated they’d be turning left in 1 km…500m….300m….100m.  Neither Ryan nor Aimee saw anywhere they could make a left turn. 

Google however said they missed it, and recalculated, telling them to take the next left turn instead.  Keeping their eyes peeled and closely watching the other side of the road looking for the turn, this time they did see a small gravel road intersecting the highway. 

They turned left, and again questioned this recommended route. They had been driving on a paved 2 lane highway.  Now they were on a very small very coarsely graveled road.  That certainly didn’t necessarily rule it out as the right way, but it did seem odd.   Ryan and Aimee looked at the road and shrugged, deciding to follow it for a bit and see how it looked.  They could always turn back.

After only a couple hundred meters, they came to what looked like a small roadside rock quarry.  The road went past it, and as they approached the far end, it looked like water at some point had cut a deep rut in the gravel road.  Maybe a foot deep, and 10 inches wide.  Beyond, the road curved around a corner, and headed into a rocky downward slope. 

There were a few workers in the area, so Ryan jumped out, checked out the road, and asked one of the workers:  “¿Es possible pasar?” The worker turned to look at him and said “Si, si.”  So Ryan jumped back in the car and reported back to Aimee that the workers said the road was ok.

However, after driving over the rut, and around the bend, the gravel road got even more coarse.  The 2-3

inch rocks they had been driving on turned into 4-5 inch rocks.  We were on the side of a mountain, and Aimee kept an eye on the side to make sure we weren’t near a cliff that we could tumble off of.  While the side continued to slope downward, there wasn’t a steep drop off.  That made the both of them feel a little more at ease.  However, they were heading at a steady and fairly steep downward slope.  Aimee a few times mentioned, that this may be difficult to get back up if we need to turn around.  Ryan repeatedly checked google maps which said they were on the right route, and that it would continue to meander south and eventually meet up with what looked like a bigger road. 

So they continued.

The First Gate

Slowly the road continued to descend and in another quarter of a mile or so, it leveled out a little bit so that they were driving down a mild sloped field, as opposed to winding along the edge of the mountain.   Ahead of them there were some fence posts.  As they got close to it, they saw that it was a rough fence with a gate in it.  The fence posts were all made from natural logs or branches, and three rows of barbed wire connected them all together.  The gate was three wires of barbed wire spanning from a heavy post to a smaller branch of about 1.5 inches diameter that was sitting on, not in the ground.  This was inserted in a loop at the bottom and at the top of barbed wire connected to the fencepost next to it, allowing for fairly easy opening and closing of the gate.  

Ryan got out of the car, to analyze the situation.  The gate could easily be opened, and the road appeared to continue beyond it.  There was a house just off the road next to where they had stopped.   Ryan called out to the house to see if there was anyone he could ask about the road.  No one was around however.   Looking at the fence and gate, there was no sign indicating it was  “Propiedad Privada.”  Along many private farms, residences, we did see these, but none here. Returning to the car, he told Aimee that it looked like the road continued, and the gate could easily be opened.  It seemed worth trying, before attempting to backtrack the mile and a half or two back up to the main road.  They agreed to try going a little further. 

Keeping an Eye on the Horse While Closing the Third Gate

Ryan carefully opened the gate, pulled the car through, and closed it again.  As they continued another quarter of a mile, they came to another gate.  Ryan suggested perhaps it was a farm on both sides of the road, and the fences were to keep the livestock in?  As they drove another quarter of a mile, there was a horse along-side the road, and just past the horse, a third gate. 

For the third time, Ryan got out, opened the fence, using extra caution to ensure the horse didn’t get out, and drove through, closing the gate behind him. 

As they passed through this third fence, hopes began to dim.  The gravel road, had now turned into a grassy trail.  There were faint tire paths through it, but strands of grass reached up 18 to 24 inches throughout the center of the road.   Though they were going slowly, the grass was obscuring their site of rocks in the road way, and they occasionally ran over and bottomed out hard on some big ones.   Aimee and Ryan said to each other that it was looking like they’d need to turn around.  At this point they were along the edge of a field sloping downward that had opened up a little bit and the trail continued around down to one corner that didn’t look very promising.  As Ryan was looking at the road in the distance, he failed to notice a dip in the tire paths directly in front of him, with a large rock about 18 inches wide and 8 to 12 inches high sticking up in the middle of the road.  He saw a glimpse of it at the last minute, when his wheels dropped into the dip, and the rock hit the middle of the underside of the car with a loud bang and crunch that they could feel even more than they heard.  That might leave a mark. 

The End of the Road

Even more concerning was that now directly ahead of them, the road sloped down further under some trees, and there looked to be another fence.  Furthermore, there was a small ditch with water running through it crossing the road.    Ryan pulled up, careful not to get too close to the ditch for fear of getting stuck, and said he’d go check out this fourth fence.  From here, it didn’t look good though.

Sure enough, as he walked up to it, he saw bushes, and fallen trees, and nothing that looked like a road.  They’d hit the end, and would need to turn around.   As Ryan walked back to the car, he realized that even though he stopped short of the stream, the ground was a lot softer than he had expected.   While he was primarily worried about getting back up the mountainside, he was now also worried about getting out of this mud.  He got in the car, gave Aimee the bad news, and put the car in reverse.   It moved a few inches, and then the front wheels began to spin.  He opened his door to check out the ground behind him, and realized his back wheels had created a bit of a ridge. 

It's Not Looking Good

He decided to pull forward a bit to try and get a little momentum.  However, this didn’t help, in fact, now he got stuck further down.  For a good 15 or 20 minutes, he tried several different approaches of rocking the car (by alternating between reverse and first on the stick shift).  He also tried gathering sticks and branches to put under the wheels to give it a bit more traction.  The more he tried however, the further down the slope, and into the corner he was slowly sliding.  Aimee was getting more and more worried that they were simply getting more stuck and not less stuck, and as it was after noon, they’d need to reach out for help quickly as it may be a few hours until help was able to find them.  Additionally, they were getting closer to some large boulders and the fence on one side, that they were at risk of sliding into.

Yeah, I Don't Think We're Getting Out of This

Ryan, still wearing a pair of flip flops, got out of the car, desperately looking for something they could use for traction.  There were some 5 foot sections of logs that had been quartered and piled up in the overgrown weeds.  Ryan tried these but they were pretty well lodged, and seemed liked even if he somehow got them under the car, they would not get low enough to get under the tires anyway.   At this point Ryan’s feet were covered in mud.  He attempted another 10 minutes of stubborn attempts at getting the car out, and finally agreed with Aimee.  We needed to call for help.

Ryan found the number for Alamo, and called them.  It took several minutes, several Spanish automated voice response prompts, and a live person or two, but he was able to get someone that spoke English at the Managua office.  The woman that answered took all his information, confirmed that he did have towing insurance, and then asked the difficult question:

“OK sir, where are you.”

"OK sir, where are you?"

We May Be Here Awhile

Ryan’s GPS allowed for a screenshot of where he was.  The woman on the phone suggested they try to send it through either texting or social networking if we could.  She suggested WhatsApp…however Ryan didn’t have that app installed.  Either way, Ryan’s phone was having a very difficult time getting a data network signal from their location, only the voice network.  Ultimately the Alamo rep said she would reach out to the tow company and get the process started. She said they would reach out to ask more details on how to find us. 

As Ryan was finishing up his call with Alamo, Aimee noticed that a person had appeared up the slope of the farm that they were alongside.  This person was walking through the field of some sort of crops directly in our direction.  Aimee tried to alert Ryan that someone was coming, but Ryan was focusing on his call.  As the call finished up, he noticed that there was suddenly a man standing next to him.  This many was about his height, and in his early thirties.

As with the vast majority of the residents of Nicaragua, this man of course didn’t speak any English.  Ryan

Ryan and Enrique Sizing Up the Situation

had an unfortunate gap in his vocabulary for words to describe the morning’s events.  He did not know how to say stuck, mud, wheels, spinning.  He was able however to explain that Google maps told him that that road went through.  This made the man laugh.  Eventually Ryan introduced himself, and the man returned the pleasantry saying his name was Enrique.  He was the manager of the lettuce farm on which Ryan and Aimee were now stuck.

Ryan and Enrique talked for a bit, with Ryan trying to make the best of his broken Spanish…which tended to become even more broken under stressful situations.  At each point where Ryan explained their misadventures of the last hour or so, Enrique laughed heartily.  At one point Ryan explained that he and Aimee were on their “luna de miel” (honeymoon).  At this Enrique doubled over and grabbed his stomach in deep genuine laughter. 

Better Find Some Better Shoes

After regaining composure, Enrique suggested we may be able to get the car out.  He pointed at the logs that Ryan had scoped out earlier.  Ryan was still wearing his flip-flops, and was completely coated in mud up to his ankles.  Ryan told Enrique he needed to change his shoes.  Heading back towards the car, he asked Aimee where his hiking boots were.  They were in the trunk.  Aimee handed him a pair of socks and he grabbed the boots.  He then asked if she had anything he could wipe his feet with.  All she had to offer were wet wipes.

With a lack of any better option, Ryan grabbed the pack, and attempted the futile process of wiping off half an inch of caked on mud from his feet with moist paper towlettes that were 4 by 6 inches.  After going through 2 or 3 of them, and making no progress, Ryan heard some familiar laughter to his left, and looked up to see Enrique laughing and telling him to come over there.  Ryan dropped the wet wipes and followed Enrique over to the edge of the farm.  Enrique pointed to the ground where there was a rectangle hole cut into the dirt about 18 inches by 12 inches.  This hole was full of water---a natural wash basin created by the water table and the water that was being irrigated down the hill. 

At Least the View was Nice

Enrique told Ryan that he could wash his feet here.  Ryan at this point was flustered, and was attempting to figure out what to do with his shoes in one hand, socks in the other, in order to clean his muddy feet.  While he was struggling awkwardly, Enrique bent down to the basin, and with his hands, cupped the water, poured it on Ryan’s feet and began washing them. 

A wave of humility rushed over Ryan as his jaw dropped open.  He protested, telling Enrique he didn’t need to do that, but Enrique ignored him and continued washing his feet.  Immediately the religious parallels to Jesus washing the feet of Peter in John 13:6-17 overwhelmed Ryan’s mind.  Here he had trespassed on Enrique’s farm, got his car stuck in the mud and was clearly keeping him from getting his work done, and yet Enrique was kneeling on the ground, washing Ryan’s feet.  Ryan was certainly not worthy of this treatment. 

After Enrique finished cleaning Ryan’s feet, Ryan put his socks and shoes on.  At this point, his phone began ringing.  It was the towing company.  Ryan answered and was immediately hit with a barrage of rapid-fire Spanish.  Ryan tried to break into the seemingly continuous stream of foreign sylables to get the words in “please speak slowly my Spanish is not very good.”  He attempted 3 times to tell this to the woman on the phone, but she did not slow down at all.  Enrique was still standing directly in front of Ryan, and not knowing what else to do, he handed Enrique the phone and asked if he could talk to her.

Enrique took the phone and talked to the woman for 3-4 minutes, most of the time clearly giving directions on how to get to the farm.  At one point he handed the phone back to Ryan.  Ryan put the phone to his ear, and heard the continued Spanish rambling of the woman at the other end.  Again, Ryan pleaded for her to speak more slowly which she continued to ignore. Ryan again looked at Enrique and said “I can’t understand her” handing him the phone.  Enrique put the phone to his ear for a second, handed it halfway to Ryan, while the Spanish chatter was still emanating from it, and pressed the red “call end” button. 

Lots of Time to Admire the Scenery

Ryan looked up slightly confused, wondering if she had everything she needed, or if this premature end of her call would mean they wouldn’t show up.  Ryan asked Enrique if help was coming and everything was good, and Enrique ensured him it was.  Ryan followed that up with a “how long?”  Enrique responded with the unwelcome, but not unexpected news that it would be a couple of hours.  Fortunately, however the towing crew was coming from Matagalpa. 

At this point there was nothing to do but wait.  Ryan and Enrique talked a little bit more.  Feeling guilty about the whole situation, and wanting to be able to do something in return for Enrique’s help and hospitality thus far, Ryan remembered he had nothing more than a dollar in his pocket.  He did however have quite a few cigars in his bag.  He asked Enrique if he liked cigars and if he would like one.  Enrique smiled and said yes.  Ryan went over to his bags, and found the variety bag that their tour guide had provided, and pulled them out and offered one to Enrique.  Enrique happily took it, and asked if Ryan had a light.  Fail.  That he unfortunately did not.  At this point, a few of the other farmers came down the hill, and Enrique went to talk to them. 

Enrique and his Farmers

It was clear they were discussing the very out-of-place car stuck in the mud, as they kept looking over at the car, and likely also laughing at the goofy ‘cheles’ that got it stuck there.  At one point, Enrique pulled the cigar that Ryan had given him from his pocket, apparently asking if any of the other workers had a light.  The responses however appeared to be negative.

For the next couple hours, Ryan and Aimee sat and killed the time texting their families at home, letting them know what had happened, but that they were safe.   They also reached back out to Alamo to talk to the English speaking customer service rep to see if they could get an update and detailed information on who was coming and when.  Unfortunately, the person with whom they were working was on her lunch break.  For most of this time, Enrique was tending to the farm, but occasionally he came by to check on them. 

Honeymoon of a Lifetime!!!

During one of Enrique’s visits, while he was talking to Ryan, a loud vehicle could be heard in the distance.  Enrique turned and ran up the hill to meet the car.  After he left, Ryan’s cell phone rang.  It was the representative from Alamo, saying that the towing company was on its way.  Ryan told her he believed they had just arrived.  At this point, a large pick-up truck came around the corner at the top of the hill, and drove down to where Ryan was standing, and a crew of 4 guys jumped out.  When the woman on the phone asked to confirm that the tow truck was there, Ryan said he thought so, but wasn’t sure.  She had said a truck with a crane would be arriving.  This was just a plain 4-wheel drive pickup truck.  Ryan however asked the name of the company from the Alamo representative, and confirmed with one of the crew members that they indeed where from the company Alamo had called.

...to be continued...