First confrontation with the police....

Today we left Hotel Granada 30 minutes from the Nicaraguan border in Honduras after enjoying a wonderful nights sleep on a bed. Sleeping on a hard cold floor is not all it is cracked up to be. I really did enjoy my time in Honduras, and the terrain is excellent, however, it was time to move on.
At the hotel, we ran into another rider. His name is Tim, and he is from the Midlands in England. He is on his third worldly tour. He has been throughout Asia, and the Asian Pacific, as well as New Zealand and Australia. Each time he ships his bike across the seas. This time, he shipped his bike to Baltimore and took it across the states. He stopped at the BMW rally in Wisconsin before heading west. He then crossed the border into Canada and made his way up to Alaska, before turning around and coming down the Pacific coast. He eventually crossed the border into Mexico and took off through the Copper Canyon. He lost the guy he was riding with in Guatemala, and we just happened to catch up with him in Honduras.
So we are all traveling together now, and sharing a room in Granada, Nicaragua. A beautiful town with old colonial architecture that surrounds a large town square filled with flowers trees and gazebos overlooking the beautiful yellow cathedral at the north end. Granada sits on the bottom of Lake Nicaragua, the largest lake in Central America. The town itself, is crowded with tourists and kids in Language school. It is tempting to stay here longer than just tonight.
Today´s trip was beautiful. We hit some rain, however, we still missed a rather large thunderstorm that was brewing off to the west towards the Pacific. The road was very smooth coming into Nicaragua, 1000 times better than the pot hole infested tarmac that haunted us in Honduras. Lets not even go there. The country side was beautiful, and just when we were coming down out of the mountains, the sun peaked out from around the clouds, and a large glimmering blue lake appeared off in the distance....it was like watching a the dew drip from a leaf, early in the morning.
About 20 kilometers out of Granada, we had to turn off to the left. There was a stop sign, so we stopped to wait for traffic. At the corner, two police officers, stopped the traffic in the right away to let us come through. So our lead man Landon started to move forward. The cops made up a two man check point, which is very frequent all throughout Central America, and we have never had problems with them before. They asked us to pull over, which is usually not a big deal....we figured that they just wanted to make sure we had all of the paper work...of which we did.
So they start to look at Landon's papers and then, one of the officers tried to tell Landon that he did not stop at the stop sign. It was ridiculous, because we stopped twice, and waited for him to stop traffic from the other two directions in the T intersection. So we were all over on the side trying to explain to them that Landon was our best driver, and that is why he is up front...and that we were being especially careful because that is what is required to make it all the way to Argentina and back from the US. The cop wasn´t really having it, which was a shame, because he was a silly young twerp just trying to get some money out of some gringos. The second cop was not doing anything...he was standing back just asking about our trip and the motorcycles. So while the cop was trying to write up a citation, Tim was asking me if they were just trying to get some money out of us, using the international thumb and forefinger rub as the signal. The cop saw Tim motion to it and looked in appeal thinking he may have been getting somewhere.
This is when Lou stepped in.
Lou first asked me to write down the jerk officer´s badge number, which I did, and on my arm so he could not take it away...or at least not very easily and incredibly inconveniently. When I did that, the officer gave Landon back his papers and Passport. Then Lou went on to tell them that he was a Pastor and that we were coming to Granada to visit some companions for a month. He assured the officers that he was friends with the Bishop, and that the Bishop had invited us to his resort Ranch on the lake. A month in Granada would have been plenty of time to use the local clergy to contact the police administration and have this officer court martial. So both of the officers then stood back. Leave it up to a Pastor to lie his way out of sticky situations.
As we were getting back on our bikes, the friendly officer comes up to Lou and says, ¨El Senor, esa con Ustedes.¨ (May God be with you) Lou turns back at the officer, and with a grinning shrug he replied, ¨hey, that is my line.¨
We left the officers behind, Landon still in the lead, being sure to follow the speed limit and stop three times at each sign for the last 20 kilometers into Granada. When we had come into town, we saw a sign for Centro de Historico and took a right heading toward the town square. Out of the blue, a large man in a collared shirt came stumbling drunk into the street screaming ¨motor¨ and headed right at Landon. Poor Landon, as if he hadn´t had enough with the cops behind him, he had to deal with the town drunk too! So he swerved to miss the guy, and the guy jumped right back into him, grabbing onto the side mirror, twisting it around, and then grabbing onto the back of the bike, almost knocking Landon on his side. So I yell at the guy, and he jumps back startled and backs away. What a day...
We found a really nice hotel, a blend of old colonial Spanish style with a modern twist. The receptionists were lovely and Landon has his Wifi signal. We swept the streets, passing all sorts of tourist trapping dining establishments, before seeing some woman cooking off on a sidewalk on a side street with a man tending to the grill. It was an interesting set up, where the tables were inside and the kitchen was outside, however, it was the only thing on the street that looked Nicaraguan....and that actually looked worth eating. So we sat down and asked for a menu, the lady said no menu, just traditional Nicaraguan food. This was the right place to eat. You had a choice of chicken, pork, or beef, and then a choice of grilled, steamed or fried Plantains. It came with a coleslaw...and in a heaping portion. It was absolutely wonderful. Two big beers later with a full stomach, Granada was looking so much better in my eyes. I am so alive...thanks to a Preacher with a few tricks under his robe.