El Salvador - Honduras - Nicaragua

Feeling we'd visited enough places to get a good feel for El Salvador, it was time to move on to Nicaragua. We had a few bus journeys ahead of us...

We got up bright and early (a disturbing trend of late), hoping to get in a quick breakie before catching a 6:30am bus from Perquin to San Miguel. We needed to pay our hotel bill, though, and the receptionist didn't show up until about 6:50. I watched our bus pass by with not a little frustration.

No matter, we were advised to get a pickup taxi to San Francisco Gotera, from where there were lots of buses going to San Miguel. This worked out really well for us because once we got to San Francisco Gotera, we were able to find a bank and replenish our emergency stash of US dollars. (Otherwise we would have had to leave the San Miguel terminal in search of a bank, and it's in a rather dodgy area.) Plus it was market day in San Francisco Gotera, and Chris managed to buy a new bandanna. Score!

We then caught a bus to San Miguel. As luck would have it, we wound up chatting with a very nice local Peace Corps volunteer, Louise. Before we knew it, we arrived at the San Miguel bus terminal. It turns out that we could have stopped early and cut a corner off our next journey, but ah well! We enjoyed talking to Louise.

We then spent a few minutes in the San Miguel bus terminal looking for the right bus. A random local guy spotted me scouring the front of very bus looking for the right town, and he asked me where we were going (in English). I answered El Amatillo, the town on the border between El Salvador and Honduras, and he explained that the bus I'd just looked at was the correct one. It just didn't have that town name displayed on it. Good thing he helped us! We hopped on the bus, thanking him profusely on our way, and the bus took off shortly after.

We went about an hour before stopping in a little town before our destination. The ticket guy on our bus advised us to get on a different bus, which would get to the border faster than our bus would. He paid the other driver the appropriate fare for us (since we'd already paid him the full fare to the border), and sure enough the new bus left shortly after, leaving the other bus behind. How nice is that?

Then we got to the border. There was no check at all as we left El Salvador, but we got stopped by the Honduran border patrol. It was a bit annoying to pay the $3 fee again to enter just for the 2 hours necessary to get to Nicaragua. But rules is rules. We paid and walked on through. Another border patrolman was happy we can speak Spanish, so he gave us some advice about getting to Nicaragua. (When we first arrived at their post, this patrolman deliberately asked us some questions in Spanish, easy questions but ones that would indicate whether or not we know some of the vocabulary.) He advised us that the microbuses to the next border were direct and much faster for only a little more money than the buses. Cheers!

Sure enough we found a microbus waiting next to a chicken bus and in this case were happy to choose the microbus. Normally we go with the chicken buses whenever possible, but we wanted to get to our Nicaraguan destination before dark, so we were anxious to make the best time possible. After waiting for the microbus to fill up, off we went. It was interesting to be back in Honduras. As we sped through the lovely scenery, we thought about the good times we'd had there.

Then we arrived at Guasaule, the town on the border between Honduras and Nicaragua, and chaos ensued. Before we could even grab our backpacks from the back of the minibus, hawkers crammed in. They wanted to take us on their bicycle taxis the "3 kilometres" to the migration office. We said we'd walk. They wanted to carry our backpacks for us. We said we could handle them. They wanted to exchange our US dollars (the currency in El Salvador) for Nicaraguan cordobas. In all the confusion, I saw one guy handing my backpack to another guy through the window, and I yelled rather incoherently, "Ahhhhhhh!!!" One of the bicycle taxi drivers joked, "Ah, eh, ih, oh, ooh" as you'd pronounce the Spanish vowels. Ha ha.

That same driver then attached himself to us for the next 30 minutes or so, very annoyingly. He kept offering to take us to the border on his bicycle taxi. No! He tried to convince us that it was a really long, arduous walk and that the bus to León left in 20 minutes. We'd take our chances! He guided us to the migration office and fetched the Nicaraguan entry forms we'd need to fill out. That was helpful of him, true, but he was in our faces as we filled out the forms, checking out all the info we wrote down and looking in our passports. He was clearly only hanging out in the hopes that we'd take up his offer of a taxi ride.

We were pretty put out by the Nicaraguan border patrol. The guy at our window demanded an entry fee of $14 from us. We responded that we'd paid to enter Honduras, and under the Central America 4 agreement we should only have to pay to enter one of the 4 countries (Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador and Nicaragua). He was having none of it. Before I handed over the money, I asked him if we could get stamps in our passports. He completely ignored me, looking over at his colleagues, refusing to acknowledge me until I actually took some US dollars out of my wallet. He said he'd give us stamps in our passports, gave us a receipt for the surely trumped up entry fee (I was shocked he gave out a receipt, the cheeky monkey!), and then refused to give us stamps in our passports. Prat!!!

After that, it was time to find a bus to León. Our taxi bicycler was still hanging around, not willing to accept that we actually wanted to walk. We saw a bus nearby, and he insisted that the bus wouldn't take us to León. A woman overheard him and told us it would; without outright calling him a liar, she encouraged us to ignore his advice. In any case, when I asekd the driver, he told us the bus wasn't actually going to León. Ach well! After we walked ahead a wee while with the bicycler still hounding us to take up his offer, he finally turned back. Phew!

We then had to walk a fair bit to the bus stop, although not the 3 kilometres that he'd told us. We got some helpful directions from a few friendly locals. Along the way, we got stopped 3 times by more patrolmen. They examined our passports, entry forms, and "entry fee" receipts carefully before waving us through. I'm convinced that if we hadn't already bribed one patrolman, another would have tried it on us. Cheeky.

Then it was time for the bus to León. First we sat in the bus for about 40 minutes before the driver decided to leave. There were a couple other tourists on the bus, and their obvious frustration made me relax about the wait. These other tourists didn't speak Spanish, so I made a point of talking in Spanish with some of the people on the bus. They were all smiles, which was really cool.

Then the bus headed out, and we got our first good luck at Nicaragua. It was a bit startling. El Salvador and Honduras are so hilly and green. In Nicaragua, we drove through complete flatness to get to León. There were lots of volcanoes and mountains rising in the far distance, but where we were, it was just hot and flat. Entertainment came in the form of some of the women on the bus. Well, it was mainly one woman who cackled and harrassed other people (jokingly) in a very witchlike manner. It was hilarious. At one point, we stopped at a gas station for about 20 minutes. She started shouting at the bus driver that she wanted to get home soon, and he should get his lazy butt back on the bus. I told her she should shout louder, so she barked with laughter, put half of her body out of the window, and repeated it all even louder. I then said, "Bravo, chica" which went down well. Some of the women smiled approvingly at me, and I felt so chuffed.

Chris shared some raisins with the witch's friend sitting next to us and also helped her organise her many bags, so she watched out for us when we got to León. It was a bit confusing where to get off the bus (we didn't stop in the actual terminal), so she made sure we got out at the right place. We got a taxi into the centre of town and eventually managed to find the hostel we chose from the guidebook. They were full up, so we wound up going a few blocks over to another place. It was 12 hours since we'd left our hotel in Perquin, quite a journey. It's good to be here!

Perquin y El Mozote

This is a difficult post. Our time here has been extremely educational and important, but there aren't words suitably heinous enough to describe what happened in the pueblo of El Mozote. I won't elaborate on the massacre itself or the ways in which those poor people were terrorized first. If you search for El Mozote Massacre on the Internet, you will find various sources about it. The estimated number of those killed varies.


We'd read about this part of El Salvador and knew we needed to visit here. Perquin was a stronghold for the opposition to the government during the civil war in the 1980s and 1990s. It's sited within heavily forested mountains and therefore was perfect as guerrilla territory. Now it's very peaceful (like most of El Salvador), but this area was terrorized by the government military during the civil war, and the worst example of this was in El Mozote, about 10 kilometres away from Perquin.

We began our time in this part of the country with our journey to Perquin yesterday. From Alegria we got a bus to Santiago de Maria, another bus to El Triunfo, another bus to San Miguel, and then a final bus to Perquin. Unfortunately, when we got off the bus in Perquin, we both forgot that Chris had tied his bandanna around the window curtain to keep it from blowing in our faces. We later tried to find the bus and bandanna, but they had already left Perquin.

We were a bit shorter on cash than we liked, and it turns out there are no ATMs or banks in Perquin. So we wound up staying in a pretty posh hotel, the only establishment here that accepts traveler's cheques. By posh, I mean that this place is much, much nicer than hostels. And it only costs $30 a night, breakfast included. We are so spoiled by prices here in Central America. Another backpacker from our bus is staying here as well, and we had dinner together in the very grand hotel restaurant (more pupusas!).

It was after dinner that I read up fully on El Mozote, which we intended to visit this morning. I couldn't read about it without crying; in 1981, a massacre happened there that is so appalling I don't even want to think about it now. It's incomprehensible, and I was sorely tempted to say I couldn't go. Chris and I talked about it, though, and agreed that it's important to pay tribute to the people who died and also to the people who somehow manage to live there today. I barely slept last night, wrecked with anxiety about going.

We got up early so we could walk 3 kilometres to a fork in the road in time to catch a bus that passes there at 8am. It turned out that we got a pickup taxi to the fork in the road and had 30 minutes to spare before the bus passed through. A local boy joined us in the bus stop just to chat; he was lovely. Then we got the bus for the 10 kilometres to El Mozote. My stomach was in knots the whole way, and I was already fighting back tears.

Then we arrived in El Mozote, and I couldn't speak around the lump in my throat. I saw across the central square the main monument erected for those massacred, and tears just wouldn't stay away. A young man came up to us and offered to show us around, and I could barely respond. His name was Eduardo, and perhaps it was a blessing that we couldn't understand every word of his quick Spanish. We'd read that people in the pueblo act as guides, and most if not all of them lost family members in the massacre. In many cases, entire families were killed. As he showed us around the memorials, Eduardo mentioned various family members he himself lost in the massacre.

He took us first to the iconic memorial: a statue of two adults and two children, with very moving words on a plaque and tablets on the wall behind covered in the names of those killed. Each tablet is for a family, and every tablet is full of names. Under the statue, many bodies are buried. It's a collective grave. Later another guide brought us back to this memorial and pointed to her family's tablet. She also pointed to the grave itself, in which some of her family are buried. I couldn't speak.



They have not died. They are with us, with you and with all of humanity.
Eduardo then took us to the new church, built on the same grounds on which the old church had been destroyed. To one side of the church is an incredibly moving garden commemorating all the children who were massacred. There are beautiful paintings, gorgeous flowers, everything in the space designed to show the peace wished for the souls of these children. Part of the floor is left from the old building in which the remains of 146 of the children were found. They're now buried in a collective grave there. On the wall are tablets with their names and ages. The youngest age we saw was 2 days, the oldest 18 years. Eduardo could barely speak as he pointed out the names of the youngest babies killed. The garden is there to commemorate and to offer space for reflection. I just wanted to sob. When Eduardo pointed out that the battalion which perpetrated the massacre was funded and trained by the USA, I think he took my tears as a sign of guilt, assuming I was American. He put his arms around me; El Salvadorans very graciously do not hold the actions of the US government against its citizens.


He then took us to the other side of the church to see the massive mural there. It details the past, present, and hoped-for future of El Mozote. It was painted by American volunteers, yet again demonstrating the graciousness of the people living there now. Lastly, he took us to the house where many women were massacred. I was nearly numb by that point; in hindsight, I think my brain wanted to shut out what it was seeing and hearing. I didn't/couldn't take in all the bullet holes.

Finally, Eduardo led us back to a kiosk, where we could buy souvenirs to help fund the upkeep of the memorials. I wanted a keepsake that included the town's motto: Nunca Mas (never again). The entire ethos of the pueblo is that people need to know what happened there and keep it from ever happening again. The whole world should visit El Mozote.

Perhaps because it was impossible to dwell on the massacre without breaking down completely, we then focused on taking pictures of the memorials (encouraged by the people there) and exchanging pleasantries with the locals we passed. Life goes on there for these people; every day they pass by sites of the massacre, and yet they don't let it hold them back. At first it felt wrong and very difficult to smile at people and say buenas dias as if we weren't across the square from a collective grave. But we took our cue from the locals. We wound up waiting for the bus with some other tourists, and it was surreal to talk about travels - banal chit chat in a place where an estimated 757 people were massacred exactly 2 months after my little brother was born.

We made our way back to Perquin with 2 of the other tourists. We were all headed for the museum devoted to the civil war. Along the way, we stopped at a souvenir shop. In talking with the owner, we found out that she has visited Edinburgh as a sort of unofficial El Salvadoran ambassador. She was really happy to talk about her time there, and we were really happy to listen.

We then found the museum, which is amazing. It's small but crammed full of pictures, memorabilia, weapons, helicopter wreckage, and even the actual radio booth used by the opposition during the civil war. An ex-guerrilla attached himself to us and explained every article in the museum. He spoke so quickly, we could only understand about 1 word in 10. But he was really pleased to show tourists around, and we gained a lot from it. We might not have looked at everything in such depth if it weren't for him. Much of it is very sad, far too many pictures of people who died during the war. Part of it was encouraging, though; there's a room full of anti-war and support letters and posters from many different countries. And most importantly, the aim of the museum is to educate people (locals and tourists) in the hope of preventing further war in the future. We very happily made an extra donation to the museum.

We then had this afternoon to rest and reflect. Our heads are full of information, much of it terribly sad and depressing, all of it vital to learning about El Salvador. We will not forget this visit.

Alegria

Our journey to Alegria was eventful, as Chris mentioned in the previous post. I was really excited about getting there. It's the highest town in El Salvador, known to have great views and plenty of artisans. We arrived at about 4pm and found a wee town with a central square. The woman in the tourist office was really helpful. She gave us a heads-up that our chosen hostel had toilet problems, so we headed to our second choice. As we made our way there, the heavens opened!

This was our second time in El Salvador in which we stayed in a hostel with dorm rooms only, and we happened to get a dorm room for only two people. So we paid dorm rates for a private room. Genius! Plus they have a big, lovely dog called Champan because he's champagne-coloured. He's gorgeous, and he likes to be petted. Suited us just fine!

We'd hoped to get some great views in and also shop for a gift for Kirsten, but views were blocked by ominous clouds and the artisan shops were already closed. We opted to do some laundry instead and then find some dinner. Cue the pupusas! We are loving them. They're eaten in Honduras as well, but we only first tried them in Suchitoto, here in El Salvador. They were good there, but they were heavenly in Alegria. They're basically corn tortillas shaped around various ingredients. We vegetarians can opt for cheese, cheese and bean, or cheese and scrambled egg. When made up fresh and properly, they melt in the mouth. The women in the Alegria pupuseria were much bemused by our enthusiasm for their pupusas. We wound up coming back for a late-night snack of more pupusas, and we were able to use our wee laptop with their wifi while we ate. Ace!

The next morning we got up bright and early for what we thought was a hike to a nearby mirador. It's at the top of 100 stairs, and we were prepared for a good bit of exercise. Then we found out that it was just a couple blocks over from the hostel. When we got there, it turned out that we were already at the top of the 100 steps; the mirador is in the town itself! So that was a strenuous hike. But the view was indeed lovely. From Alegria we could see mountains and valleys, all covered with trees, in every direction.

It turned out that there was a festival for schoolchildren that morning. Hundreds of kids from seemingly dozens of schools were all lined up in the square and made their way in a procession, led by a school band. We're not sure where exactly they went; we didn't want to look dodgy by following all these kids. But we enjoyed the music and soaked up the lively atmosphere. Then we found an artisan shop. The owner was nice enough to open it a bit early for us, and we got a couple wee things we hope Kirsten will like!

We walked around the town a bit. Then it was more pupusas from a different pupuseria but just as tasty. A man at the next table chatted with us. He lived in the USA for 25 years and wanted to talk about travels. Chatting with locals is always a highlight for us, although it's easier with some than with others. Some people talk so quickly that we can't translate quickly enough in our heads! We try, though.

Then it was time to pack up and head out. Next stop: Perquin.

Suchitoto - Santa Ana - Juayua

So we left Suchitoto hoping to make our way to Santa Ana - El Salvador's second biggest city. We were hoping too that we could avoid San Salvador (the country's notorious capital city) on the way. Unfortunately, it seems that San Salvador is the country's transportation hub with seemingly all buses either originating or terminating there. Luckily we were able to limit our time there to the time it took to get off the bus, hop in a taxi, transfer terminals and find out which buses were leaving imminently for Santa Ana.

Our poor impression of the capital was lessened somewhat by the nice taxi driver that ferried us from Occidente to Oriente. He was so nice that in his eagerness to converse with us he often turned almost fully around in his seat to interact with us better. Such was his enthusiasm that we narrowly avoided some close (and potentially disastrous) interaction with various other road users. Luckily we managed to arrive safely - and were Santa Ana bound within minutes.


Santa Ana is El Salvador's second biggest city and is something of a tourist draw according to some El Salvadorian tourist bumf we'd somehow acquired. Once again we were badly misled by Lonely Planet (their El Salvador section of this book is in dire need of revision) because they didn't print the address of the only place worth staying at in Santa Ana and it's off the map. Eventually we did find it, but only after phoning them up and asking what their address was. Fortunately my Spanish is now good enough to hold a rudimentary phone conversation as long as they don't stray from the basics...

We were slightly perturbed by the presence of a few churches close to our lodgings. The presence of these churches is not at all sinister in terms of their mission or purpose – it's just that occasionally we have problems sleeping when they kick off. Some appalling (usually female) singer steps up to the mic to blare out some devotional (and seemingly tuneless) number accompanied gamely by a keyboardist who seems to have the beat set firmly to '1983 electro pop classic' and the volume to 11. I think I may have mentioned this subject before, but I think it bears repeating.


The afternoon we arrived, in an act of uncharacteristic touristic enthusiasm, we walked the 15 (or so) blocks into town to have a quick look around. There's no doubting that the church and theatre in the central square of Santa Ana are quite nice – it's just that other than those two buildings there's seemingly not much to captivate the tourist. The hotel/hostel was nice though. We did get free wireless and everyone there was very nice.

We did miss a trick, however because the owner of a hostel in Juayua (our next destination) was staying the night and left before we could cadge a lift off him. That meant that unfortunately we were stuck with the chicken buses again. We were advised that the best bet is to get a bus to 'Los Naranjos' and sit in the cool climate with a coffee and the friendly locals rather than in the hot and sticky Santa Ana bus station. Cool and friendly Los Naranjos may be, but unfortunately anywhere that may have been able to serve us coffee didn't know we were coming and had rather inconveniently closed for the day/the afternoon/ever?

We found Juayua to be a pretty little town – perfect for chilling out in. In other words it was a little sleepy, but otherwise unremarkable. The hostel, run by Cesar and Eddie (the dog), was very nice and colourful and there was free wireless internet again (very convenient), but we didn't really find much to hold our attention. After checking that Cesar wasn't about to head off to our next destination (you never know...) we boarded a chicken bus towards Alegria. When I say towards Alegria I mean towards Sonsonate and then to the Sonsonate bus station and then to San Salvador, then to El Triunfo, then to Santiago de Maria and THEN to Alegria. We even got music videos on these buses (must have had an upgrade) – but unfortunately they were dodgy Spanish language music videos featuring middle-aged (and occasionally overweight) blokes (one sporting a variety of comically oversized sombreros) singing wistfully at much younger, much slimmer women who were hopefully being paid handsomely to look like they were very much enraptured by the singer who in most cases was old enough to be at least their dads.

It's perhaps worth a minute to elaborate on the 'chicken buses'. These gas guzzling, exhaust spewing, garishly painted behemoths are certainly a feature of the Central American experience. They also have a terrible reputation for being not only gas guzzling and exhaust spewing but also dangerous for passengers and fellow road users alike. We are definitely careful not to use them after dark or in dodgy areas if possible. But spare a thought for these workhorses of Central Amerian public transport. After many years of (almost certainly under-appreciated) sterling service to school children of the USA, they're flogged off like old horses to the knackers yards of Central American bus operators. Then they're driven on hazardous unpaved mountainous roads at break-neck speeds until no amount of spare parts or TLC will ever get them running again. Finally, they're sent to scrap yards to be stripped of any useful spare parts before being left to rust. This was the fate of one such sad specimin we spied on our way up to Alegria. Its roof had been removed leaving only steel struts jutting out like ribs of a carcass picked clean by vultures. I remember feeling a little sad for the poor thing.

Suchitoto

Suchitoto was GREAT!!!

We got a bus from La Palma to Las Aguilares and from there to Suchitoto. It's a lovely little town centered around a tranquil square. We had a wee bit of trouble finding the hostel we wanted from our guidebook, and when we found it (after getting directions from a few different very helpful people) no one was in. So we found another place right by the square. It was lovely to dump our stuff and then be able to wander around without feeling like big turtles.

The people we encountered in Suchitoto were so nice and friendly. Nearly everyone we passed exchanged buenas and smiles with us. Our first evening there we just wandered around, soaking up the atmosphere and enjoying the friendliness of the people. We had a late lunch (unfortunately French fries were the only vegetarian option) at a restaurant overlooking the huge Lago Suchitlán, the forests bordering it, and all the birds soaring overhead. It was gorgeous.


Later we had dinner in a place called Xela Pizzeria. Xela is a wonderful place in Guatemala where we spent several days. We not only had some fine pizza, but we got to talk to the owner. She's from Xela (hence the name!) and was really nice to talk to. She gave us loads of info as well as timely warnings about San Salvador. We walked back to our hotel feeling very happy to be there.

The next morning we got up bright and early to walk to some nearby waterfalls and a geological formation supposedly like the Giants Causeway. We walked a couple kilometers to where it was supposed to be and didn't see a way into the trail. So we had to turn back to town, wondering how to get to it. On the plus side, we saw some pigs on the way back, which was cool and reminded us of Dexter:


Later on we were talking to some people in a cafe, and it turns out that there's no official opening to the trail; everyone just hops the fence. If only we'd known that at the time! No matter, while we were talking to them we got to watch such a cute little fluffy puppy playing in front of the store by the cafe. Too cute!!!


It was too hot to go back to the falls at that point, so we decided to stick around for another night and try again this morning. We spent yesterday evening wandering around some more, chilling, and going back to the Xela restaurant for the most gorgeous vegetarian lasagna and some more chat with the owner. Lovely!

This morning we woke up bright and early again. We walked the couple ks. We hopped the fence. We walked up the trail a short distance. And we were mighty impressed with what we found. There are huge hexagonal pillars of rock, stacked up about 30 feet high with a couple strongish waterfalls cascading over them. It's called La Cascada Los Tercios, and we loved it. It was so worth the wait!!!


Here's a tip for anyone who goes to El Salvador with the Lonely Planet Central America book, though...the El Salvador section SUCKS!!! So far anyway...

La Palma

Here we are in lovely La Palma. There are lots of mountains to be seen in the background surrounding this small city, and inside the city every building is adorned with brightly coloured paintings. It's full of artists, their workshops, markets for their products, and samples of the art on every surface. Even the streetlight poles are painted. It's a great place to walk around in.


We spent one night here, staying in a hotel set on a hill. All of its walls are painted like throughout the city. We were delighted to talk to a waitress there during dinner; she was happy that we asked her questions about her city and gave us a lot more information than our guidebook contains about La Palma. We were so happy to be able to converse in Spanish!


Also, we've been happy to find an Internet cafe here with a very fast connection. So Iff is uploading lots more photos. You'll soon see links to them here on the blog!

El Salvador

¡Estamos en El Salvador!

Getting here wasn't as straight-forward as we'd been led to expect, but we're here nonetheless. We got to the bus station in Santa Rosa de Copán, Honduras bright and early, only to run into Scott and Melissa, the people we went on the tour with yesterday. Turns out they couldn't get hold of enough Honduran Lempiras to get to the airport, and we had more Lempiras than we needed. So we exchanged some Lempiras for US dollars (the currency used in El Salvador), and all worked out really well...

Until we tried to buy tickets for the 8:30am bus to our El Salvador desination. Every person we asked about it said something different...there'd be a bus at 9am, there were no buses on the weekends, there were only buses on Thursdays and Fridays. Huh? Last night people assured us there was a bus at 8:30am. As luck would have it, a bus suddenly showed up at 8:30am. But when we asked if we could get off the bus early at La Palma (rather than riding all the way to San Salvador and then having to come back to La Palma), we were told the bus only goes to the Honduran border. Ok, well that was better than nothing. So we took that, and Chris got to chat with a really nice Peace Corps volunteer for part of the journey. I really enjoyed my last (for now) look at the gorgeous Honduran scenery as we drove to Nueva Ocotepeque.

Upon our arrival in Nueva Ocotepeque, we got a crowded taxi to El Poy, the border town which straddles Honduras and El Salvador. Much to our surprise, there was no one around on the Honduran side to try to get money out of us or even look at our passports. (The guide books and other travellers have warned us about the extortion going on at these borders.) We just walked on over to the El Salvador side, where we were stopped by an incredibly nice El Salvadoran border guard. He asked to see our passports and was all smiles, joking about not asking us for any money, speaking some English (he seemed to want to practice), even giving us maps! He also gave us stamps in our passports when we asked. This guy gave us an excellent impression of the country right off the bat, second only to our welcome to Australia.

We stayed in El Poy only long enough to buy a phone chip and catch a bus to La Palma. It's really strange to be using US dollars here but at really deflated (compared to the US) prices. Our phone chip only cost $5, and our bus journey only cost 65 cents! More on La Palma later...

Honduras

I want to note something about Honduras. We haven't spent much time here, nowhere near as much as we spent in Guatemala. We'd like to see more of this country, but most of it is undeveloped wilderness. We'd prefer to explore it in a tour group, but we couldn't manage to find one. Furthermore, it's currently hotter than Houston in this country! Hopefully we'll get back here someday and see more of Honduras. But what we've seen has been beautiful (with the exception of La Ceiba!), and we've encountered some really lovely people -- locals and tourists alike. Cheers, Honduras!

Santa Rosa de Copán - Gracias (and back)

We found Santa Rosa to be quite a charming little place with quaint little cobbled streets and a pleasant enough atmosphere - but unfortunately when we investigated the tour situation, the one guide who could give us a tour of local Lencan villages was away for the week! Then the restaurant we'd looked forward to from our guidebook's description was closed for the day.

The next day we managed to have lunch at the restaurant and then catch a bus to Gracias, where we were assured we could get a tour of Lencan villages. The drive to Gracias was through gorgeous scenery, and luckily no dead bodies were to be seen. Gracias itself was a surprise...very small and a bit desolate. We decided to check on the tour situation before even checking into a hostel. After a bit of hunting, we were directed to the house of Marco Aurelio. It turned out he'd already agreed to take a couple people on a tour the next day. He wanted to check with them first that it was ok for more people to be on the tour (a first for us!), but they were happy to have more along.

We then had to find a decent place to spend the night. The first place had no fans in the rooms. The second place cost twice as much as we wanted to pay. The third place was a winner...8 rooms set in a mango, coconut, and coffee plantation with cats, a young dog, lots of chickens, and a cantankerous horse. It was lovely. And we managed to have dinner at a place serving traditional Lencan food. The owner is on a mission to help the entire community and spread that mission; she gave us lots of information and finagled Chris into trying to make her computer run faster!

The next morning we got up bright and early for breakie at 7am, and then we met the tour group at 7:30am. The other two people in our group were Scott and Melissa, a brother and sister from the US. We had a great, informative time. Marco took us to a few sites in Gracias itself, and then we set off towards La Campa. On the way we stopped at the farm of a bloke who makes his own natural gas (as well as having a whole farmload of animals). He had us sample some sugarwater, made from sugarcane he chopped down in front of our eyes right there on the farm. Chris helped to turn the huge wooden arm that squeezes the sugar juice out of the cane (the good old-fasioned way!). It tasted nice with lime juice, but we're hoping the water added to it won't make us sick!

Then it was on to La Campa, where we learned all about the Lencan pottery traditions. We got to watch a Lencan woman make a pot and got to meet another woman who makes gigantic pots much taller than herself. We also got to visit a farm where adobe is produced as well as fired bricks and roof tiles. All throughout the tour, we passed through gorgeous scenery. It's a really lovely part of the world.

When the tour ended, we got a bus back to Santa Rosa de Copán. We're here for the night until we can get the morning bus to El Salvador. Next stop: La Palma!

Copán Ruinas - Santa Rosa de Copán

Having a new-found respect for Honduras with our uplifting stays in Yojoa and Copán, we were in high spirits as we boarded a bus from Copán to Santa Rosa this morning. The trip was proceeding as well as could be expected until we came across a hold up in the road. Looking out the window all I could make out was a bus pulled over to the side of the road as if stopped and a figure slumped on the ground.

Now, it's not unusual to see people slumped on the road in Central America. We've seen first hand the effects of a few too many beers (or whatever they were taking), having had to circumnavigate a few prostrate figures after dark in various Guatemalan cities. We even witnessed one inebriate having to be pulled from the middle of a busy road after he thought it would be a good place for a nap.

This was different, however. A group of other people - whom we took to be the passengers of the bus - were standing around behind a line of yellow tape. As I watched I saw a policeman appear from behind the bus and turn over the figure on the ground. I could tell from the indelicacy of the operation that the non-responsive figure was either in no danger whatsoever or was past help. There certainly seemed to be no attempt by anyone to provide medical attention. As we drove past the macabre scene we could see that one of the windows on the bus had been broken - seemingly from the outside.

It was quite surreal in that there was nothing we could do except to carry on with our journey - but it reminded us that this is certainly a different place from what we're used to. I'm still not certain about what had taken place - I'm still hoping that the guy was just passed out drunk - but it's entirely possible that he'd been shot (either on purpose or by accident) through the window of the bus.

So we arrived in Santa Rosa in a slightly different state of mind from how we left Copán Ruinas.

Lago de Yojoa a Copan Ruinas

Our opinion of Honduras is much improved after staying in Lago de Yojoa! Even mine, despite being randomly stung by a wasp and finding a giant mutant grasshopper locust thing latched onto my back.

We wrapped up our 3-night stay in Lago de Yojoa at a very relaxed pace. We happily spotted more wildlife near our cabin...three baby thrushes and a wee mammal that looks like a possum-weasel hybrid. We also got to chat with some fellow travellers who have come from places we have yet to visit, so it was great to get some recommendations.

The morning we were to leave we first had to get to the nearest village (Pena Blanca) for some cash. We tried to do this on a Sunday, only to find that the ATMs there are closed nearly all weekend. No matter, we got our cash, paid our B&B bill, and then set off. We got a 3-hour bus back to San Pedro Sula and then waited a couple hours for a 3-hour bus to Copan Ruinas.

Copan Ruinas is a lovely place. It has cobbled streets and a lovely square and just feels relaxed and genial. The people are very friendly and are used to lots of tourists. Luckily we're here in the low season, but we still see other tourists wandering around.

We came here to see the Copan Mayan ruins, and we were happy to see them this morning (nice and early before the heat and tour buses arrived). Upon entering the grounds, we were greeted by the raucous squawks of big, gorgeous rainbow-coloured parrots. That was a great start! The ruins are in a beautiful location, surrounded by forests and rolling hills. The specialty for these ruins are the amazingly carved stelae, and they are worth the visit. We just wandered around and read what our guide book has to say about the site.

This probably concludes our Mayan site visits. We'll now be heading south of the classical Mayan territory, but also we've already seen several Mayan sites (old and current). Our next stop is Santa Rosa Copan, from where we hope to tour local Lencan villages. The Lencas were (and still are) indigenous people here in Honduras, so we're hoping to see some contrasts between Lencan villages and the Mayan villages we visited in Mexico.

La Ceiba - Lago Yojoa

We decided that La Ceiba was a bit dingy and we didn't really want to go out to the Bay Islands for more snorkelling so we decided to head inland to the Lago de Yojoa area. The guidebook mentions that it's very green and tranquil with a much nicer climate than the north coast. We also found that there was a nice looking B&B with attached micro-brewery near the lake. Sold!

We bid our goodbyes to La Ceiba (didn't take long) and left for San Pedro. The bus to San Pedro was nice enough, but we wound up on a chicken bus (complete with chickens) out to the lake. It was completely packed and even when I thought we were full up, the driver was still honking for more passengers to get on. We ended up 3 to a double seat and 2 to a single with the entire length of the aisle full with standing passengers all the way down to the front of the bus. I think that if we'd had a roof rack we'd have had the same number again on the 'upper deck'.


Anyway, we finally arrived in Los Naranjos with a thankfully lighter passenger load – but still the same number of chickens. Trace was dropped off near the football field – I was dropped a little further down the road due to some difficulty extricating my backpack from the luggage rack. Luckily (for me) this was at the end of the road we were looking for anyway so that worked out OK (for me). After our La Ceiba experience we decided that we'd splurge a little here and so we went for a private cabin (at an extortionate £13 per night). After settling in and eating dinner we set up a birdwatching trip down the lake with local birdwatcher (and ex-Ipswich resident) Malcolm and two other guests Rosa and Joahim from Holland. Unfortunately the best time to see birds is first thing in the morning. We set our alarm for 5:30am and turned in for the night.

On the few rare occasions I have been persuaded to wake up at 5 or 6 in the morning I'm used to having the place (wherever that is) to myself. In Honduras, however, it appears that anyone waking up later than 6:30 is a bit lazy. It's no wonder though: as we made our way down to the canal, the temperature was perfect and the wildlife was in full voice. We stopped at Malcolm's house for coffee and pancakes, picked up our oarsman and set off downriver for the lake.


During our trip we spotted hummingbirds, orioles, a couple of ospreys, some proboscis bats, moorhens, various types of heron and egret as well as innumerable flycatchers. The highlight though was the amazing display put on by the kingfishers. We saw all 3 types found near the lake – including my personal favourite: the tiny green kingfisher - and they were mostly perched on low branches near the waterway making them really easy to spot. On a couple of occasions we saw them dive for fish right in front of us. One even followed us (almost) all the way home.

Rio Dulce a La Ceiba

We got the boat ride from Rio Dulce to Livingston. Our expectations were high because the journey is reputed to be a highlight of Guatemala. We went through some pretty scenery, through waters inhabited by manatees (although we couldn't see them), but we'd seen much prettier sights in Guatemala. No matter, at least we did it!

We arrived in Livingston and were a bit shocked. The other Caribbean towns we've been in were much nicer...much friendlier people, a friendlier atmosphere in general. We were relieved to book a shuttle to La Ceiba, Honduras for the next day. No need to dawdle there!

So the next morning we got a 6:30am ferry to Puerto Barrios, Guatemala. From there, a shuttle picked up us and two other travellers from Holland. We left Guatemala with no hitches, entered Honduras for a set USD3 fee, and made our way to La Ceiba. The drive was through lovely scenery, although we all found it difficult to stay awake. We arrived in La Ceiba at about 1pm, and the driver very kindly found our chosen hostel for us (which unfortunately turned out to be full).

We then encountered lots of places either closed or missing entirely. Things on our guide book map were gone or had moved. We walked around in intense heat for quite some time before finding a hostel that was where it should be, was open, and didn't cost a crazy amount. A few people were helpful in giving us directions (many streets here are unmarked, and even the locals don't know what every street is called), but on the whole we're disappointed in how unfriendly the people here are. In Guatemala, everyone we made eye contact with would smile and exchange pleasantries with us. Here, about 1% of people we say buenas to actually respond, as opposed to 99% in Guatemala. It's quite a culture shock. I sincerely hope things are different in other Honduran places...after all, this is only our first stop here.

The other problem was that we had in mind to take some tours of local wildlife areas. Of the recommended tour agencies here, only one was where it should be and open, and they had no other tourists signed up for tours. So we've given up on getting tours up here, which is disappointing, but on the other hand it's crazy hot and humid here, and we've already been eaten up by bugs.

So we're exploring options and trying to figure out where to go next. We don't want to stay here in La Ceiba for another night, but we need to sort out where to be instead! Watch this space...

Antigua y Volcan Pacaya

We finally got to the volcano! After chilling for a few days here in Antigua while Chris recuperated, we got a 6am tour with 12 other people. We drove up as far as possible and then hiked up for an hour and a half. It wasn't the hardest hike we've done, but we were gasping for breath by the end. Of course our guide Herman had no such problems. He does this twice a day, every day!



We hiked through forest until we reached a massive expanse of lava. Luckily for us, most of it had hardened to stone, but as we wandered over it we could feel the heat rising up from underneath. It was so amazing to see the lava rock formations: pillowy lava, flowy lava cascading like curtains, lots of sharp, crumbling lava that sounded like chalk when it snapped. Without thinking I grabbed a bit of lava rock at one point to steady myself, and my hand came back bloody. Without even feeling like I'd been cut, that rock perforated my skin.

It felt like we were in a sauna. I was worrying about my shoes melting onto the rocks, and trying to not to breathe any nasty fumes too deeply. People found deep holes in the rocks and dropped in bits of food, making flames burst out. I actually started to worry that the rock under my feet could break, and I'd burst into flames myself! But luckily that didn't happen.

Herman managed to guide us to a fresh lava stream, and we stood there (me hopping from foot to foot to keep my shoes from melting!) watching it flow past. I loved the sound of it crackling over the lava rock. When wind whipped over it, it hissed. It was like watching a live thing, and it was incredible.



We only spent about 20-30 minutes on the lava field, but it felt like hours. I was glad to get back onto grass and feel my shoes cool down! We made our way back downhill and returned to Antigua feeling very happy about the experience.

Tomorrow we'll head to Rio Dulce for the renowned boat ride to Livingston. Then it's time to head to Honduras!

Guate Guate!

We're back in Guatemala.

We managed to make our bus connections and after several stops along the way we're finally back in Antigua. It's good to be back on the road again with renewed enthusiasm - but a slightly shortened itinerary due to our time-out in Texas.

We're planning a jaunt up the nearby volcano Pacaya tomorrow - we had meant to go a couple of days ago, but unfortunately I was (luckily, temporarily) ill due to the novelty effects of Guatemalan cuisine on my unprepared digestive system. Trace has so far escaped unscathed.

Next update (hopefully soon) will include any pictures from our volcano trip and various other pictures from Guatemala.

San Antonio to Oaxaca

We had a great time in San Antonio with my little brother. We hung out, watched movies, petted his friend's dogs, and managed to go bowling. Somehow I'm much better at Wii bowling than real bowling, although Iff managed to get plenty of strikes in...revolting!!! He also managed a ninja throw and at one point achieved a spare by rolling a backwards granny shot, aiming based on what we told him; he didn't even look at the one pin left but managed to hit it. Rank!!!

We left San Antonio yesterday morning and got to Monterrey, Mexico in about 7 hours. Much to our dismay, the US border patrol didn't even speak to us on our way out of the US! So Chris didn't get to surrender his departure card. Grrrrrrr. He'll have to do it when we get back to the US next time. The other pain was that we accidentally left our Mexican tourist forms at my parents' house; they're good for 6 months, and without them we had to buy new ones. Argh.

No matter, we got to Monterrey safely. Then we got a 10-hour bus to Mexico City. We arrived at 4am and were told that the next bus to San Cristobal was at 11:45am. Huh? Instead of waiting around in the cold, boring bus station there, we got a 6-hour bus to Oaxaca, a city we really liked when we were here in March. We're here for a few hours, so we get to stretch our legs by walking along very picturesque cobbled streets and crumbling stone sidewalks. Chris remembered how to get us to a cool vegetarian restaurant we went to a lot last time we were here. Not only did we have some fine food (especially nice after having only snacks on the buses), the waiter remembered us! It's like we have wee homes away from home.

The plan now is to get an overnight bus back to San Cristobal de las Casas, from where we can get a shuttle to Antigua. For now, we get to chill in Oaxaca...time to sample some chocolate!!!

Houston and San Antonio

So we've decided to head back to Central America and finish what we started. We might travel a bit more quickly than usual, in our hopes to prevent further lethargy.

In the meantime, my family have very kindly given us places to stay and recover our energy. From our hostel in Guatemala, it took us exactly 48 hours of buses and taxis to get to my little brother's apartment in San Antonio, TX. After almost catching up on sleep, he took us to Houston to surprise my parents. We were there for nearly two weeks, and it was great to see their new house in progress. It was also a great opportunity to catch up with my aunts, Nadine, Jon, Aspen, Cody, Laurie, and the cool team at my dad's office. Plus we got to attend an Astros game, which was great fun. (Thanks again, Dad!) We were hoping to head up to Seattle to see Bart, Lauren, and little baby Kirsten (before little baby Kirsten becomes walking talking toddler Kirsten!), but the logistics of it just don't work out right now.

So yesterday we got good ol' Greyhound back to San Antonio. Check this out...it left 20 minutes late but arrived 4 minutes early! Course, they also sold 69 tickets for only 47 seats. We just had to pay a little extra for priority seating (ie actually having the seats we'd already bought tickets for), the con artists!!!

After 3 months in Latin America, we've appreciated some things we didn't really think about before. Drinking water from the tap is a luxury. Finding clean bathrooms (with toilet paper, no less!) in every public place is delightful. Not having to translate everything we hear, read, and want to say is soothing, to be honest. Yet I already miss expanding my Spanish vocabulary and the invaluable practice of being immersed in another language. I miss a lot about Latin America, despite its lack of certain things I'm used to (which I was growing used to lacking before we came back to the US); the differences among cultures is what we want to experience and learn about. So it was interesting to note things here we'd gotten used to living without. I look forward to getting used to life down south once again.

For now, we're back in SA at Ross's new apartment, and this time, we have a longer stay: 3 nights here. Then we're heading back down to Antigua, Guatemala with possible stops in Mexico City and San Cristobal de las Casas. We shall see what happens with the US border patrol on our way out...