The great Nicaraguan pedal fest.

Picture you self as a rock. Now pitch yourself at a bees nest. Thats how I felt at the Honduras/ Nicaraguan border. Swarmed by money changers, taxi drivers, truckers, cops, border agents, beggers, beggers helpers, donkeys and children. I had my passport checked, rechecked and then checked again before zooming down into this new country. It nice to turn leaves and reset the where-abouts in that grander kind of scale.Like Limperas to Cordobas and many new brands of coffee. There so far are alot more smiles and waves that make the day for a passing cyclist. Even the guy who slowed to tow me up a long grade on his motorcycle, is surely helping to warm my heart to Nicaragua. I´m bound for the west side and the string of vocanos out there. I think there is gonna be some surfing in my near future as well.