Day 14 Jan 1

"Toto I don't believe we're in Kansas anymore."
The ride to the border was short and the scenery was nice. When I got to the border the agents were pleasant and efficient they processed me easily and I was off and across the bridge to Honduras.
Where I was greeted by an army of border leaches, one was the friend of the leach that I dropped my left over Guatemalan money on, He knew my name because he got a call from his buddy. I refused his services so he tagged along anyway.. The Honduras border building was built in 1947 and had no maintenance since its completion, paint peeling broken windows bars on the window where you put your passport through to get your entry stamp. the agent was in a dirty T-shirt with a cheep nylon cord holding a badge around his neck. The leach said it was going to be 10 dollars US for the fee for the passport stamp he would get it done for me, when I went to the window they asked for 3$. I can't emphasize enough the contrast from one side of the bridge to the other.
The passport stamp conversation created a bit of volume between me and the leach. A man walked up and asked if I was having a problem, in English. I said "I don't know". Then the leach tried to interrupt us and I told him to back off and then I said to the stranger "yes". He introduced himself, his name was Steve. We talked about what was going on and he said the permit process was easy and I could get it done within 20 feet and I shouldn't allow the leaches to separate me from the officials or let them handle handle negotiations for me. They would, as they had tried , tell me that the permit fees were greater than they are so they could pocket the difference while they handled it for me. That pissed off the leach and he walked away.
Steve asked the border agent where the permit agent was and we were informed that he wouldn't be in till later. "How much later" Response "I don't know" Ask "Can you call him" Answer" No answer" During this frustrating exchange the leach reappears with a cop and a heated conversation ensued between the leach and Steve. The Honduran policeman was I think still hung over from the last nights revelry and hadn't got his uniform shirt on yet so he wasn't quite up to speed and maybe he did not appreciate the leach dragging him into a situation. Even though the Spanish was fast and furious I got enough to gather that the leach was pissed because his bitch had been high jacked by this Americano, the bitch he referred to was me, his to fleece. I also gathered that Steve responded by telling them that the entire system of border rats was a disgrace to there country and that it was shameful that they cheated every visitor they could. The leach got no satisfaction from the cop and stormed off in a Spanish tirade of profanity aimed at Steve.
The border agents had enough time to investigate the where bouts of the permit agent. He was not going to be into the office for 2 days. Their opinion was that the permit was "No possible" Steve did a very good job of telling them that it was not fair to hold me hostage for two days.
We sat at a roadside eats spot and talked over the situation, and shared our story's. You know mine, Steve is an American that lives in Salvador and was on his way to Nicaragua, Granada, to catch up with his family. They had taken the auto and he was reuniting with them for a holiday via bus. The bus he was going on was parked at the border waiting for enough passengers to make it cost effective to transit the country. The trip across would take about an hour and a half. We talked it over and decided that I would cross the country following the bus and I would with his help offer to purchase the permit where there was an agent.
We walked back across the border to Salvador and asked the agents if we could step into there country to buy some minutes for Steve's phone. There said why not use our phone and asked us into there office where I sat down and called the American embassy in Salvador. I spoke to the guard on duty and he referred me to the on duty officer, that phone was not answered. I recalled the guard, who had no authority and asked if he could leave the duty officer a message, its not in his job description, hes just a marine guarding a gate and referring phone calls. He did take down my ID and a phone # so the duty officer could get in touch with me or I could call back on Steve's phone later. was concerned about the reception I would receive at the other border.
It was getting closer to noon and the bus did not have enough passengers to leave yet, I asked Steve how many more they needed and when the driver said five bucks, I ponied up the five bucks and the bus passengers cheered me. Lots of Mucho Gracious and a cloud of dust the bus was headin south with me following.
Honduras is a short hop across at this point and it will be the first time I have made two borders in one day.
libre, free to go, my passport was stamped and i was off to Nicaragua, for entry stamps and vehicle permit. With Steve's help it went pretty smooth. I owed him a couple of beers, he had called his wife and there was a couple of hours to kill before his next bus left. I was feeling good about making two borders in one day and had a thirst.
The border areas are a little seedy and I had until now avoided having a beer until I got away from them. This was definitely a poverty pub atmosphere, bright daylight and midday. The canteena was a cinder block building, it had a courtyard alley,dirt floor, roll up garage door front and a back yard patio with small rooms for the working girls to ply there trade. There was a couple of refrigerators for cold beer. The sound system music was really loud. The patrons numbered about 25 , 9 at one central round table and three tables of four, these four tables were older guys socializing and sipping, the rest of the patrons were passed out or preparing to pass out. In the front court was a cowboy trying to get on his horse he was to drunk to stay on and kept falling off the right side. The horse was used to this, he stood calmly until the rider got a good seat and then walked away , i guess he knew the way home.
Steve was mixing right in and joking and laughing showing his new found friends porn pics he had on his camera. I backed up to a wall and sipped my beer and watched the cowboy trying to get on his horse. The 9 at the round table had a full table of empties in front of them and were joking about who's turn it was to buy a round. I noticed one of them pass a large stainless steel revolver like a Ruger 357 (I have one). I didn"t see the bore and I didn"t want to. I walked over to Steve and said "I have to leave now". When we got outside I explained that I could not stay where people were armed and I wasn't.
I followed him to his bus stop and we talked at a quiet side walk tavern over another beer and I said adieu and thanked him again. He did assist me a lot.
 The border crossings and following the bus at 50 MPH had eaten up a lot of the day, I could still try to make Granada. Not such a good plan, I got caught in a rain storm and night fell and I was forced to take the first place I could get to.
Sign said motor hotel, as I pulled into the court yard I saw that this was a place that rented usually by the hour. I stopped the bike, I was dripping wet.
The manager said to me in good English "What do you want".
I say" I want a room where the door locks a safe place for my bike and a cold beer. Is there a restaurant close?"
His comeback " How many beers you want?"
I say "How much for six beers and a room"
He"20bucks"
 Me"OK"
Him"Take that room, the bike parks in the garage outside your door. The cleaning girls will bring your towel and sheets, tell them when you want one of your beers. The restaurant is 200 feet that a way".
Rudimentary conversation and to the point. The beer and the sheets are delivered, there is a rubber on the towel. I get changed and go for food.
When I get back the manager is outside sitting in a lawn chair, and asks if i had a good meal. We talked a little while and he told me he had lived in Washington for 10 years and had been to the area of my town. We enjoyed practicing a little English and I turned in early. He locked up the front gate for the night and when I started stirring in the morning at daylight he was up to unlock.