Short update to previous posting on buses

This is just a short post with a few more observations of the buses. I may seem obsessed with buses, but they really are a large part of life here.

When traveling with Susan, I had my first experience with the mini-buses in Nicaragua.  It turns out that there are actually two types in this general classification.  The first type is approximately equivalent to 12 or 15-passenger vans, but generally more compact (most appeared to be a Toyota model that we don’t have in the US).  They also have either fold-down seats or basket-seats that allow passengers to also sit in the aisles after all the seats are filled.  If there are only a few each day, they run on a schedule, but on busy routes (e.g., Managua-León or Managua-Granada), they leave as soon as they are filled.  They only have a driver and no collector.

A typical micro-bus loading at the top.  One nice feature at this station was the roof for shade while the bus loaded.  The bottom shows the interior.  There are still 2 places with fold-down seats that are not occupied yet.

Susan and I had two contrasting experiences with these buses.  The first was a scheduled express  from Matagalpa to León.  This was generally a pleasant, fast trip with no stops and the driver stayed very close to the speed limit.  My only complaint on this trip was that I was seated in an extra seat they add on top of the engine (which is between the driver and the front right seat).  This seat has no place for legs, is so high that I had to bend my neck to avoid pressure on the ceiling and seems right up against the windshield with no seat belt (even though there was a sign asking everyone to fasten seat belts). 

Our next experience from León to Managua was much different.  Although I had a regular seat next to Susan and the trip was non-stop, this driver seemed to have a appointment scheduled somewhere that he had to get to.  We went like the proverbial bat out of hell, passing vehicles with abandon and tailgating so we could pass at the first opportunity.   We even passed the mini-bus that had left about 15 minutes before we did.  That driver was not pleased and then blew past us, but we later responded in kind.  After that, it seemed even more urgent to go fast so that other van would not catch up.  We did arrive safely in about 1:15 instead of the expected 1:45.

In Managua, we switched to the other type of mini-bus, which is between a van and a full bus—sort of like some of the airport shuttles in the US, but with more seats.  They are big enough that there is a collector in addition to the driver.  Like the other mini-buses, this one left when full (the seats, that is), but unlike the others, this one proceeded with the collector hanging out the front door continuously yelling the destination as the driver seemed to slow down at every bus-stop, hoping for an extra, standing-room passenger.

My other bus-related experience was returning to Sabana Grande after Susan had left.  Her flight was early in the morning, so I went directly from the airport to the bus station.  I was early enough that I actually got a front row, reserved seat on the express, so was looking forward to a relaxed, comfortable trip back home.  However, about half way, the bus stopped in a line of trucks and buses and the driver got out (while a swarm of vendors climbed on to sell their wares).  After a while, some of the passengers got off with their baggage and then some started arguing with the collector.  I couldn’t really follow, but when I asked the collector directly, he said that the bus was stopping there and turning around to return to Managua, but I could wait about an hour and get picked up by another bus to Ocotal.  It turns out that there was a demonstration going on at a bridge a few km ahead, with army veterans protesting their pensions and benefits.  By blocking this key bridge, they can essentially stop all traffic to/from the north.  The bus personnel didn’t volunteer any information, but some other passengers told me that I should ask for some refund money back from the fare, so I got back 25 of my 85 Cordoba, but was still a bit confused about why the next bus would go on and this bus wouldn’t.

About an hour later, the next bus did come (a chicken bus), so I squeezed on SRO and paid my 70 Cordoba fare for the rest of the trip.  (So in total it cost me 130 Cordoba instead of 85.)  I was still unclear as to why this bus could travel on and the first one couldn’t, speculating that one driver refused to cross a picket line or something.  However, I soon discovered the real reason:  we were essentially driving cross-country to get around the blockage and the coach-type buses simply are not rugged enough to do it.  (Refer back to some of my street pictures for an idea of the road condition.)  For over an hour, we plodded along over rutted, rock-strewn “roads,” through a several water channels feeding the rice fields, and even driving for a while in the river bed itself (thank goodness it was the dry season!).  Finally we arrived back on good pavement having progressed about 10 km in that hour and a quarter.  This pace is about 1.5 hours SLOWER than my Marathon pace!  Even if you account for the age-group of the bus, I don’t think it would qualify for Boston.)  From there on, the trip was uneventful, but the total time was over 5 hours for what should have been a bit under 3.5 hours and an extra 45 Cordoba.

A picture showing the line of mostly trucks waiting at the road block.  Most small trucks and SUVs went on the cross-country detour, but the semis couldn’t make it.  At the bottom is a photo of my bus and some of the passengers milling around;  note that driver did choose a shady spot to stop.  There are still more trucks and buses stopped behind us.