The Honduras border crossing is renowned to be a tedious and expensive nightmare but with a car it would be at another level. We had heard all the rumours, been given all the advise & tips but we still weren't prepared for the extent of hassle and point blank bribery we encountered in such a short space of time. We do not have many positive things to say about the corrupt police and greedy, slick border helpers of Honduras.
　
Six hours in Honduras is about six hours too long as far as we're concerned. We were both ecstatic to be driving out of that country and won't be heading back any time soon! Our original plan included the diving mecca of the Bay Islands on the Caribbean side of Honduras but with the current political problems, plus overpriced air-tickets from El Salvador to La Ceiba (we were planning to park the truck up in El Salvador and fly as to avoid as much Honduras hassles as possible), we made the decision to give it a miss. After our border nightmare and the news that there was a 6pm curfew in effect, we are very glad we saved the money and didn't give another cent to Honduran con artists!
　
Our new plan was to get through Honduras and to Nicaragua as quickly as possible. This meant making a dash across a 150km stretch of land from El Salvador on the Pan American Highway and enduring not one but two border crossings in a single day. We were up and packing at 5am in order to get as earlier start as possible, and as we headed out from our safe little haven at Las Flores we were nervous about what was to come.

Brothers in Arms
　
As we approached the El Salvadoran border we got chased by a car wanting us to stop. "We've been expecting you!" the jolly fellow said through the car window. Apparently he was the brother of the guy who had helped us out at the other end of El Salvador and he had rung them up to tell them to expect us. They can't be too many Californian Ford truck-campers with a Norwegian/New Zealand duo in these parts so we were easily recognisable!
　
"Mas rapido, mas propina!" Ollie told the guy (means... get us through quickly and there's a good tip in it for you!), he seemed to like this so like a speeding bullet he was off while we sat in the truck sweating in the super hot sun. We had expected the worst but after 3.5 hours, a couple of bribes to border officials and a couple more dubious, but not excessive, charges from our helper, we were making the first nervous steps into Honduras.
　
Police Road Block Nightmare
　
We'd heard the rumours and the truths about the corrupt police force in Honduras. We had adhered to all the advise which had come our way... we'd forked out for reflective emergency triangles and a fire extinguisher... we thought we had all the boxes ticked but we were wrong.
　
It was bound to happen, especially when you are stopped a total of six times!! Yes, six times, that's a stop nearly every 25 kilometres! As expected, after they'd inspected our paperwork they'd ask for the triangles... when Ollie went to retrieve them from behind the seat he was halted and then asked for the fire extinguisher, same story as before, when we motioned to grab it they weren't interested by it anymore. We could see that the police officer was getting nervous; he could see his payday getting further and further away until he spied Ollie's bare feet. The corners of his lips moved in restrained glee… he had us. "Zapato, no Zapato… $45 por favour." The alternative, apparently, was a long wait at the bank to pay the fine. When we reluctantly passed over the cash, and he shook our hands almost to say 'nice doin business with ya!' Needless to say we didn't make that mistake again and thankfully we survived the following five checkpoints without paying another cent.
　
We drove through Honduras with our hearts in our mouths, just expecting the worst every time we saw another police stop up ahead. With all this worry we didn't even get to pay attention to the beautiful green and volcano rich countryside like we normally would.
　
I guess our good luck on the police bribe thing had to come to an end eventually. We had been expecting to be pulled over on a regular basis all through Mexico, Guatemala and El Salvador. We thought our big Californian truck would have been a big beacon literally telling the cops that we were ripe for a bit of bribery, but we had been left alone until this point.

Slick Border Helpers
　
About 4 hours later we entered the border area between Honduras and Nicaragua. As expected we were bombarded with about 10 guys all haggling for our business, there very nearly was a scrap over us! Wanting the nightmare to be over as soon as possible we chose one that could speak good English and asked him to tell us what we were in for - costs we'd have to pay. He listed off a few things which sounded totally reasonable - "$20 total for visa's, $20 Insurance for the truck and $20 for me if I can get you through in 2 hours", fair deal we thought, too exhausted to care about his slightly inflated fee. "Let's get going!"
　
He asked us to give him our papers and passports, wait in the truck and relax; he'd be back in 2 hours with everything done. Warning bells were going off in our heads and we tried to insist that we follow him around; he refused and was adamant that it would be quicker if he just did it himself so against better judgement we let him go to do his thing. One hour and 30 minutes of pacing up and down hoping we would see our documents again, and he came back and told us to follow him up to the Nicaraguan border to complete the 'rigorous' Swine Flu check (consisted of writing your name and destination on a piece of paper, then you were stamped and being clear for Swine Flu?).
　
Well, the guide had done what he promised, in a little over 2 hours we were ready to venture forth into Nicaragua, now we just needed to see to the fees. We followed our guide (and about 10 of his mates) to a quiet spot outside of the border zone to settle the bill.
　
"That will be $2000... hahahaha... just joking." We laughed nervously with him. "No seriously, here are all your receipts; lets just call it as $350 and we're good to go!" He looked at us with a proud look on his face. Our faces dropped... where had all these extra charges come from... we demanded an answer. Something about one month's worth of insurance, visas now $20 each, a few bribes here and there to get to the front of the queue and the best of all the $65 exit fee out of Honduras. We had to laugh in his face; did he think we were that stupid? We knew this guy was having us on but he had forged receipts to back everything up.
　
We reminded him of the fact that we had asked him upfront about the costs and expected no more than $100 absolute maximum, and that had included the 'ripped-off' fee that we've come to expect at border crossings. He adamantly listed off all the fake charges we had incurred again and started to get a bit angry. 'Lets put it this way mate' we explained, 'we only have 100 bucks on us, that's all you're getting.' He wasn't a happy man and at first refused to take it, wanted traveller's checks, our first born or any other payment. We ended up sealing the deal on $100 and about $20 worth of Nicaragua Cordoba (even though Shay told him it was $40 worth), he snatched the money and stormed off swearing in Spanish, revved his motorcycle and sped off, meanwhile we didn't wait for him to change his mind and got the rock outta there!

Lessons Learnt
　
We drove in silence for the next 5 minutes or so; both of us taking in how badly we had been ripped off and how easily we had let it happen. True, we'd got through the border in 2.5 hours and not had to lift a finger but it came at a cost, monetary and even a bit of pride that we're not the streetwise travellers we were beginning to think we were. We vowed to not let this happen again and take control at the next border crossing, definitely not let the guide call the shots. We had learnt a valuable lesson.

It Ain't Over Till its Over
　
It was getting dark when we finally arrived in the colonial town of Leon, in Nicaragua. We had been recommended a hostel by Trav and Lyndell in Las Flores, so we were keen to just find it, unwind, get ourselves a stiff drink and start to forget the day. We were soon to realise that our day was not quite over just yet!!
　
After driving around the nameless streets for 40 minutes with no clue as to where we were, Shay took to foot to try to orientate herself. Hostel located, we drove the truck around to it and went to check in. "Sorry but we're fully booked." We had not expected that! We sat in the truck downhearted, wondering what to do next; just as we were about to drive off the receptionist knocked on our window and told us that she had made a mistake, there was one room left! YAY! Finally luck was on our side so we almost hugged the girl with relief.
　
One of the reasons we chose this hostel was because of the secure parking lot that we'd been assured our truck would fit in no sweat. We were soon to find that the camper was just a couple of centimetres too big to fit under the gate arch. 'No, no, no, no... What can we do now?' If we didn't laugh we would cry! After closer inspection we decided we should make it if we removed the rail and ladder from the top of the camper so without further delay Ollie whipped out his tools and ripped the rail right off; it was therapeutic after the day we'd had. With the rail off, we were able to pass under the arch with millimetres to spare.
　
We checked into the hostel, had a shower and then sat down to the most refreshing cold beer of our entire lives!!!!!