I contract a taxi to get me and all my boxes (OK I'll be honest also some plastic shopping bags) full of pottery from Granada to Managua airport. The very professional and polite Wilbert Carrion receives me at the Copa Cargo office and does not so much as raise an eyebrow at my bulging plastic shopping bags, just diplomatically suggests I could pay an extra $10 to have my shipment professionally packed. Yes, thank you very much. Excellent idea.
The paperwork and customs clearance take longer than I expected. There I was thinking I had the customs thing all under control only to learn that Nicaragua has export customs on any shipment more than 10kgs. I have 25 kgs. Wilbert is able to grab me a customs broker at short notice who does the necessary paperwork. It seems quite extensive and is, I am soon to learn, quite expensive. Equal to the actual shipping costs it turns out. Grrrrrrr. There is some talk about having to apply for permission (in writing of course) to the Ministry of Culture and Tourism for permission to export the ceramics. After some serious consideration and consultation with other colleagues it is decided that permission from the Federal government will in fact not be required and my goods are cleared for "export". What a relief. I decide NOT to mention the other 10kgs or so of ceramics I have packed carefully in my suitcase. I pay the man (cash only of course) and hit the road.
That all took longer than expected and its nearly dark but the time I'm done. I decide to skip the bus and pay the extra for a private taxi to Leon (about $65). Tomorrow is May 1st, a bank holiday, and the city is already buzzing with people gearing up for a night of party and the vacation day tomorrow. Rollando my taxi driver is a lovely man who keeps me entertained with family stories for most of the 2 hour ride. He found the love of his life in his second wife. After 5 years of marriage she is diagnosed with cancer and dies shortly after leaving him a single Dad with 5 kids (2 from the first marriage). It's a sad story but he tells it in a matter-of-fact kinda way and quickly moves on to some amusing anecdotes about his teenage son and daughter who are apparently causing him grief in all manner of ways.
Not much more to tell really. Rollando gets me safely to the door of Hostal Mariposa, which is about 10kms outside of Leon on a dark little dirt road, and we say our fond farewells. I leave him with the last half of a pack of plantain chips we had been sharing on the drive down. He's a big guy - probably needs them more than I. The Hostal Mariposa is not that welcoming from the outside. Blank concrete walls topped with rolls of barbed wire and steel gates are all that you can see from the drive way. Passing through the gates I am treated to a lovely surprise. A little tropical oasis with winding paths through a lush gardens, softly lit swimming pools and thatched bungalows scattered through out. Severine (one half of the french husband and wife team who built Mariposa) greets me and offers to cook me dinner. I am famished and would have eaten pretty much anything. Imagine my delight when I am served a delicious filet of fish smoothered in basil cream sauce, pan fried potatoe with rosemary and a crisp green salad with home made dressing. And fresh baguette. I love the french. They always have good bread.
I don't really have any interesting photos from today so why not look at this little map of my route so far.
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