The entertainment at the border by far exceeded previous experiences. First I had to stop at a little booth to get a piece of paper for exiting Nicaragua. Then I proceeded into an area that looked like a soccer field that hasn´t been watered for years and seemed to be mainly used as a parking area for many quasi-vehicles. There were groups of people apparently moving in random directions. I was told I need to get a stamp for exiting Nicaragua in a certain building. Inside that building, there was a line in front of a counter with a sign saying "salida." Good, I thought. But a uniformed person told me I needed to go to a different building. I went there and saw the same signs saying "salida." To make sure I am at the right place, I dared to disrupt the cigarette break of another uniformed person who then told me those were not the correct counters and I needed to go to another place...well, I thought, after all they are obviously not very keen on giving me that exit stamp. I then got on my bike and started riding towards where I thought the Costa Rica side of the border was. Without stopping, I politely greeting numerous uniformed Nicaraguan officers as I was passing them. I arrived at the Costa Rica immigration building and everybody was happy. Now I am in La Cruz and need a beer. Cheers!
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