From Rama we took a boat to Bluefields (named after the Dutch pirate
named "Blauwveldt" who was the first settler). The boat left late
again,
and was loaded with roosters and dogs. The river was zig zagging,
which meant we were in the shadow half of the time, and
in the blazing sun the other half. People threw their bottles,
plastic and whatsoever just overboard, there was not a single
sign of guilt, it's strange to see. Because the riverbanks would get
boring after some hours, they started to stare at us instead.
On the way we found out that the river was used as a shipgrave,
everywhere there were rusted big boats stranded. Some of them
ended up like that because of hurricane Mitch.
In Bluefields we were
happy to be able to walk again, because of all days boating and
bussing, our buts turned
into wood.
Bluefields is the biggest Caribbean harbour in Nicaragua,
and is used for a lot
of drugtrafficking as well, it's a strange feel. In the restaurant a
beggar came from half behind a window, and after
we gave him some money, we saw that the other half of his face which
was hidden behind the windowpost, was rotten away.
The meal was OK, but instead of the expected Bob Marley, there was
Country & Western played very loud by the jukebox..
We wanted to go to the famous reggea dock party, but after our meal in
the restaurant,
we gave up. We had seen some kind of gang-war going on in the street,
with two groups fighting with eachother, some of the
man were holding baseball-bats. It looked very agressive, so we
locked ourselves in our hotelroom instead.
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