So sadly our luck had run out. A few kilometres from the border we reached a line as far as you could see of back to back lorries. But, being on a bike we were able to cruise on by all of them (despite disgruntled looks and angry honks) right to the front!
We got pulled over the right hand side of the road where they processed the bike, looking at the title, the vin and our El Salvador import papers. Fairly straight forward, despite being harassed by the numerous 'helpers', who try and help you whether you want them to or not!
It was then a few kilometres down the road to immigration, where we got another little slip of paper with our passports. Crossing over the bridge we handed these scraps of paper to a security guard, along with a copy of the cancelled import paper. At the other end of the bridge (the Honduran side) we had to hand over the original title, cancelled import paper copy, and Tom's passport and license. By this point we had acquired a helper, who despite us not asking him for any help was helping anyway. He ran alongside the bike telling us where to go and what to do, and in the end we were pretty grateful of the young guy. There's one big building after the bridge that does both customs and immigration, so Tom sorted out the bike while I stood in queue to have our passports stamped. The queue took an hour (one booth, dozens of people and blistering heat) but eventually we had our passports stamped and had the import permit for the bike. We had to pay $3 'processing fee' each when getting our passports stamped, and a further $36 round the corner at the bank for importing the bike.
The crossing wasn't overly complicated, just made extremely stressful by the lack of organisation, the extremely long queues and the crazy temperatures. There seems to be a distinct lack of logic in how these processes are laid out, meaning a lot of back and forth and often a lot of confusion. Our longest crossing yet, we were back on the road in two and a half hours.
We decided that two borders in one day was never going to happen, both in terms of time and in terms of our mental state, so we decided to stop in Choluteca, just 35 mins from the Nicaraguan border. Sitting in the car park of KFC after trying a number of local hotels which were all $40 and up, we were approached by an American man who exclaimed "wow, white people!". We got chatting and he had found a hotel down the road for $22 a night - he showed us where it was and we shacked up there for the afternoon. It turns out this man used to rebuild British motorcycles as a hobby, and was currently travelling to Panama in a massive RV. He had old manuals for British bikes, plus a whole heap of tools which got Tom rather excited. It's funny who you meet on adventures like this!
The bike has been running rich; too much fuel and not enough air has been going to the engine, dirtying the spark plugs and making the bike splutter. So with newly acquired drill, Tom drilled extra holes in the outer shell of the air filter, while I used an earring to stab small holes in the filter itself. Top notch mechanics for you there (it seemed to make a difference as it barely spluttered on the way to Nicaragua).
We treated ourselves to a KFC for dinner (don't judge) and set off early the next morning for the Nicaraguan border. It was even worse than before. We thought entering Honduras would be the worst of it, but exiting and then entering Nicaragua was even more of a mission.
But 4 hours worth of queues, harassing 'helpers', botched paperwork and handing over copious amounts of cash later, we were in Nicaragua. Then all that was in our way were crater-sized potholes and the biggest lorries I've ever seen coming towards us on the wrong side of the road.
But as with every strenuous journey we've had so far, the beauty of the scenery easily made up for the hassles of the day. Riding through lush green fields from which epic, perfectly cone-shaped volcanoes rose made us very excited to explore Nicaragua. And we had new shock absorbers waiting for us in Leon which was enough to spur us on and finish the day!
