Having arrived in Tegucigalpa when dark I thought it only fair if I explored the city a bit before leaving, so I left all my belongings, apart from a small quantity of money, and went for a 20 minute walk round the neighboring blocks. I’ll admit I didn’t feel too safe, I wasn’t threatened or even heckled but the looks I received were unfriendly and almost seemed to be questioning why I was even in their country.  I have to say not the friendliest people I have ever met.

Having spent much of the past two days on busses I thought why not make it 3 says in a row. There is plenty to do in Honduras but it is all on the East side and unfortunately I don’t have the time to trek across there and back in my short time schedule so it was another bus ride, another border crossing and another new country. Today’s journey took me from Tegucigalpa (Honduran capital) to Granada (Nicaragua) via Managua (Nicaraguan capital). Tegucigalpa to Managua was on a Tica Bus (Central American bus company specialising in capital to capital travel) there were two other foreigners on the bus one of whom was sat next to me; an older German man who made pleasant company even if he did smell of stale sweat. The border was fairly quick but there were a lot of different hoops we had to jump through on the Nicaraguan side including a bag search which I had to do twice as I was given the wrong form the first time. Once I had the correct one filled out I did the most un-British thing in my life, I jumped the queue and push in at the front. I know its shocking but I wasn’t going to wait 30 minutes again for the sake of a form which was actually identical but it was a different size (an older version I think).

The fun really started when we got to Managua though, the German man had a 10 week tailored itinerary which included a transfer from the city to Granada (45km away). We arrived at 1730 and his driver wasn’t arriving until 1900, he was also paying $40 for the privilege. I instead played $7 for a taxi to the bus terminal and then $0.75 for a chicken bus. Having been told by a number of people, including Lonely Planet and Esther my sister, not to get Chicken busses in Central America, especially at night I though I would see what all the hype was about. Having already got one during the day in Belize I knew the score and I have to say the 45km journey passed without incident albeit I stood virtually the whole way and it took forever (2 hours, they stop every 500ish metres to let people on/off). Not once did I feel vulnerable, I even had a chat with a jolly fella and smiled at a pretty, curly haired Nicaraguan the bus who returned the smile. Honduras take note.

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