I hate long busrides. It wasn't 13 hours this time, but 9 when it was supposed to be 5 felt just as bad. My seat slowly steals my positive energy. Sleeping isn't recharging, and seems only to make me groggy and achy. We watch 2 movies, which helps, but the hour delay at the border finishes me off.
We arrive to Managua...the bus station is closed, and the streets seem dark and dangerous. Our hosts whisk us to a beautiful house/mansion/estate, where we find out the girls are staying. They are spoiled, it's an amazing place. Their host's daughter is awake to receive them, and she speaks great English and seems to be of similar age.
The boys are headed to a hotel. It seems like a nice place, but we laugh as we're sharing a room. 3 beds, in a regular sized room. It's fine for our purposes, but comical as the girls are in the lap of luxury.
We walk over to a sports bar and get some grease in our bellies. The conversation lags, as we're wiped. Tomorrow is a new day. We get horizontal, and look forward to starting our Nicaraguan adventures.
CGD
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