On Foot Across the Border

Two days ago, I crossed the border into Nicaragua. On foot. The bus stopped at the bus terminal in Peñas Blancas right at the Costa Rican border. Costa Rica is not only expensive as a travel destination; I also had to pay another 12 US dollars for exiting the country. After that, I walked about 800 meters through no man's land, passing waiting trucks, until I reached the Nicaraguan customs and immigration office. Customs officers sat in the shade at regular intervals, and I had to show them my passport. However, they seemed little interested and quickly waved me on. The entry into Nicaragua cost another 13 US dollars, and the officer at the counter tried to shortchange me by 2 dollars by claiming he couldn't change a 5-dollar bill.

Hardly had I left the building on the Nicaraguan side when I found myself unexpectedly in a colorful hustle and bustle: countless street vendors offering everything that the hearts of ordinary people desire, along with taxi drivers, bus operators, and middlemen – a dense, lively mess. People and sales stalls crowded along both sides of the road, while trucks continued to stack up in the middle, waiting for clearance at the border. It was challenging to make any progress. I wasn't prepared for this chaos; everything had gone much more orderly and quietly in Costa Rica. Eventually, I fell