Nicaragua!!!

We didn't get into Corinto until late morning and there must have been a 50 mph wind across the pier.  It was hard to just stand up. I found a guide that was supposed to speak Englinh well.  Not so much.  I knew much more Spanish than he knew English.  He learned it from his mother who lived in Los Angeles several years. Yikes!

There were very few cars in the city but hundreds and hundreds of these tricycles (they actually had 5 wheels, doubled up front)  There was a little plastic horn up front connected to a tube to the driver.  He'd toot-toot at intersections, to get people and other trikes out of the wat but, mostly waving at friends allong the way, most them on other trikes,  He is also a reserve police officer.

We visited the local police department but that issue with my questionable interpreter became more burdonsome. I noticed I would ask him to say something to the officers (commissioers) and he would nod his head... and then say nothing. I worked it out.  I know more Spanish than he knew English.  I muddled through with gesters and facial expressions.

This is a traffic citation. 

Notice, just like in the U.S. he already had his name, date, badge # and signature filled in.

Police bikes.  They always ride in pairs of commissioners on a bike.

I asked them to lunch which they said they were not allowed to do.  After we left the two commissioners raced up to us on a motorcycle.  Their commander had called some higher up and got permission to have lunch with me, for 1 1/2 hour.  I guess that was Nicarangua Time because it was much longer. And, guess what everybody ordered on my dime? Steak! I didn't mind a bit but just had to smile.

I let them pick the spot and it was a large high ceiling thatch building right on the beach. I also had to buy lunch for their CO to take back to the station. That was fine with me. My guide grabbed one of the waiters, Sergio, who was from Miami. In rapid fire Spanish he talked to the officers for me and soon we were laughing, showing each other our families pictures, connecting on Facebook and talking about chases and shootings. Serious comradary.  I don't know what my guide was saying but it wasn't getting the job done.

On top of that,  the non-interpreter had ordered a steak dinner for his wife, to go!

Then the commissioners told me (through Sergio) that they had been assigned to me all during the time I was there.  So after lunch I had a motorcycle police escort.  Then they stopped to tell me they were running back to the station to get something for me. I got a quick tour around town and then an escort right up to the loading ramp. I got a Police Cap and I gave them some UP calenders and an extra patch for their CO.

Here are a few shots around the backside of town:

               This is my guide/non-interpreter's home right on the beach and one of his 5 dogs, below.

Another good day of bonding with the local police.  Again, a different version of the same thing cops do all over.

It was also a beautiful departure: