Nicole eventually figured out our next hotel yesterday evening. It wasn’t easy, and made our early wake up that much more of a struggle. We were in an Uber back to the airport around 6am. I had been able to check us in online and evidently our mobile passes were enough to get us through security despite not actually having seats. While that all seemed easy, the customs and security lines had some rather hostile people running them. Juarez International Terminal 2 uses those pesky e-gates that are notoriously unreliable. Nicole kept getting yelled at even though her passport eventually did scan correctly.
The terminal itself was no more relaxing. Its inefficient layout and overall lack of space for people to spread out meant it was loud and chaotic. With no room in the priority pass lounge, we tried to find a spot out of the way, but couldn’t understand a single boarding announcement in any language due to poor acoustics. All of this to ultimately board my old nemesis — the airport bus. We were taken over to the Aeromexico Embraer 190, a relative of my own aircraft.
Despite buses and chaos, we departed on time and were soon climbing above the persistent layer of haze that blankets Mexico City. It was a fairly calm flight, and two and a half hours later we were touching down in Managua, Nicaragua. It took us a while to get through the slow customs line, but we had managed to land early and at least beat an American Airlines flight to the queue. We then collected the rental car from National — a manual Suzuki Swift. It was a very thorough inspection of the vehicle which culminated in the woman recommending that I try quesillos (a sort of Nicaraguan taco composed of cheese, onions, and cream). My stomach could go either way on that.
It was a tedious three hour drive down to San Juan del Sur, near the Costa Rican border. Our progress was impeded by slow traffic, horses, tuk tuks, road construction, unpaved roads, and ultimately an unmapped road that our GPS apps were struggling to deal with. Somehow we managed to find the Morgan’s Rock EcoLodge. Check-in was confusing. If you recall, Nicole is a Hilton Honor’s Gold Member (unceremoniously downgraded from Diamond around this time last year for not spending enough money – thanks, Trump.) She had been told that a room upgrade could be available since the hotel is technically affiliated with Hilton, but it also kind of isn’t.
You see, it’s part of Hilton’s new small luxury hotel brand. And from firsthand experience, it isn’t working well. I think Hilton felt they were giving a boost to these local privately-owned hotels by attaching their name to it, but the reality is more like ICE coming to the airports to “help” TSA. Nobody actually understands how they’re supposed to work together and they didn’t even have a record of Nicole having already paid for the reservation. Not a good start. Needless to say, there was no upgrade. The staff insisted on speaking to us in English — a language they didn’t always have the best handle on. I kept trying to switch us to Spanish, but it didn’t seem to work. I attempted to explain that Nicole was a Hilton Honors member (it has to be mentioned!) and were previously told that there was a chance for an upgrade. The concierge also took my car keys so that they could move my car from the reception to the parking lot, and I was under the assumption that they were coming back to you know…at least give me the keys back. They did not.
So we were kind of annoyed by the whole process. Why even be part of Hilton if you receive zero of the perks associated with it? After talking to the concierge again, they eventually seemed to understand. An upgrade was offered but we would have to wait until tomorrow to move into it. This may all seem very silly and petty, but such properties come at a premium and you want a seamless process — especially after a long day of driving and dealing with Juarez International.
It is, nonetheless, a very nice room with view of the ocean, even if not the best room available. Once we settled in, we calmed down and walked down to the beach to go for a wee stroll. It’s not like a resort where there are hordes of people on the beach. We are in an isolated section of jungle on the beach where all we hear are the waves crashing. We had dinner at the hotel which had a somewhat limited menu where we both had a vegetable lasagna and hopefully don’t gas each other.
Our room doesn’t really have normal windows per se, it’s just a lot of screens. We are effectively sleeping outside in the open air. I like the idea of hearing the waves and the wind, but with no way to effectively seal off light, we are due for an early wake up. This shouldn’t be too much of an issue because I am quite tired and ready to go to bed at 9pm. Hasta mañana.
passports & pepto bismol 