We drove around Managua for what felt like hours. Um, not exactly. We swerved into the driveway and scraped the bottom of the Corolla horribly. The guys standing outside stared at us like we were idiots. The girls looked at me with a smirk as we pulled forward. All around me I saw plastic colorful curtains covering what looked like large private parking spots.
Are these hotel rooms? The girls started giggling as Roberto talked to the guys outside from his car. I saw a sign that gave the going rate per room by the hour. For sex ONLY! A sex hotel, eh? The hourly rate for a whole night was above our budget, so thankfully, we moved on.
I thought Managua was going to be cheaper than San Juan del Sur , but after seeing the prices of the rooms and talking to our friends, we found out that the big city is not exactly cheap.
Hence, thousands of people in severe poverty. Living in rough conditions. It got to the point where we contemplated forgoing even getting a room to just stay out all night long until the morning.
The only problem with that though was that none of us girls were ready and we were all looking forward to having that girl time to get ready together. Finally, we found a place! We grabbed our stuff and all of us girls gathered into one room, while the boys watched the UFC fight in the lobby with a beer. We painted our nails, straitened our hair, did our makeup and listened to local club music to get us excited for the night. I felt right at home. This was exactly what my best friends and I did back in California together before a fun night out in the city.
