El Salvador to Nicaragua

The trip to playa el tunco, el Salvador came off the back of a fun party weekend in Antigua. I was ready for some daytime beach chilling followed by a few nighttime beers, perhaps even some exercise in the form of a boogie or whatever the kids call it these days. To quote Mick jagger: you can't always get what you want but if you try sometimes you get what you need.

To get to el tunco I first had to negociate myself out of bed. A tough call after my first night of couchsurfing. Valerie (see pic above) had promised a quiet night in, it was a Tuesday after all. What I got was a night out with the elite of San Salvador. Carlos picked us up in his super charged 4x4 tank resplendznt with sword on the back seat ("a Halloween prop..."). First stop was the GranVia, a new outdoor mall that was fancier than any I had seem in north America. Typically we went to the only Irish restaurant, Bannigans, for dinner (are there any "Irish" pubs in the world with a common Irish name?!) after that it was a whistlestop tour of posh dollar-a-beer bars culminating in being treated to kareoke until 3am.

We managed to convince Carlos "I know another bar we can go to" Stifler to drop us home after kareoke. Lucky that, as his semi drunken driving was getting a bit hairy. Drink driving doesn't seem to be an issue here. In fact I was proudly shown a picture of a crashed brand new BMW.

Next morning I was up at chicken bus o'clock to head to la libertad and then on to playa el tunco, a famous surf beach (don't worry, jane's been there too..!) I found a tent on a raised platform by the beach for $4. After a night of little sleep I treated myself to a night in a bed in Papayas lodge. El tunco was a bit quiet, the bars were empty by 8, so three of us decided to go back to san Salvador and on to Nicaragua.

So it was back to Valerie´s house in San Salvador with the promise of another quiet night in as she had a big night out planned for the next day.

With unnerving predictability we found ourselves still out at midnight. Instead of kareoke we rocked out at a "Veni U2" gig, intended to raise funds to bring U2 to el Salvador, with a tribute band fronted by a very womanly Bono. For a tribute band they knew very few U2 songs, in fact they just knew Vertigo which they played every few songs in the hope we'd be too drunk to notice.

Notice we did, so it was off to a nightclub that would fit very nicely in the poshest part of any capital city. Suddenly it was 3am, we hadn't had dinner yet and our bus to Nicargua was in two hours. And so we found ourselves packed into a car, eating drive-thru mcdonalds, cruising the streets of el Salvador.

We got to the apartmentst 3.45am, just in time for a quick brush of the fiaclas and to catch our cab. By 4.15am there was still no sign of the cab. I was slowly falling asleep on my backpack on the footpath, mark was trying to drunkenly figure out what to do while michael from holland was chuckling whilst proclaiming: "ishn't did weird".

I was seconds from passing out when a police 4x4 pulled up and four commandos, toting machine guns for good measure, jumped out and surrounded us. Using a jumble of "bus", "5am" and "mucho problema" we got across the gravity of the situation. Either because they were nice people or they didn't want to deal with the headlines the next day ("3 gringos murdered on sidewalk") they threw our backpacks in the back and invited us to ride with them.

And so it was, with two heavily armed, ballaclavad, commandos guarding our bags in the back, that we came to get a police escort through San Salvador to our bus terminal.

My memories of passing through Honduras don´t amount to much, I´m sure it was beautiful etc. but I was fast asleep for all of it (except for the obligatory "welcome to honduras" sign).

Antigua (again) and El Salvador

The original intention was to spend a day in Antigua to re-form my body into it's normal shape after a 9 hour bus journey and to get a wash done. Five days later and I'm finally in el sALvador. I blame Rum, Paul, Jessica and Devon. The hostel was just too much fun to leave.

In the end I'm glad I stayed because it gave me the chance to climb Volcan Pacaya again. The first time round I climbed it in the morning but I later discovered to my horror that Jane had climbed it in the evening. In order to faithfully recreate Jane's journey I would have to climb it again.


Going back gave me a chance to see solid rock where last month I saw flowing lava. Geography teachers worldwide would wet themselves. The lava this time around was a good 20 minute hike further up the volcano on steep, slippery terrain, a mixture between sand and sharp rocks eager to attack your ankles. Thanks to my days of playing frisbee on the beach I found the easiest way up was to run.

The lava snuck up on us this time, we were scrambling over fresh, hollow sounding rock when the guard said softly and with no sense of urgency that we should perhaps not be where we were and instead follow him. A good call as a few metres on we could see that we had been standing on the thin roof of a cave about two metres wide from which flowed a fast moving stream of 2000C liquid magma (dr evil would love this!). At the same time the sun was setting creating an incredible glow as the clouds we were in rushed by.

Having been toasted marshmallow style by the lava we started our descent. The easiest way to do this was to attempt to ski down using feet as skis and my trusty stick as a "jaysus" device to stop a fusion of ass and sharp rock. We made it back in good time using flashlights and a bus. Never was a Burger King cheeseburger and fries more deserved.

This morning I was up to get a shuttle to Guatemala city at 9. First things first though, I needed coffee, bread and to post my latest postcard to Rosie, Queen of Clonskeagh. I was hanging out with Helen (from San pedro / NZ, just back from the rainy caribbean coast and very hungover), Jessica (from Antigua / Oregon and off to semuc champey) and Sophia (from Sofia, off to San pedro again) on this beautiful morning. By 9.15 there was still no shuttle, no big deal in Guatemala to have a delay. I popped my head into the girls at the travel agents to check on it. My appearance was greeted with calm panic followed by some frantic phone calls. I left them to it, I could see I was in good hands.

My trust was well placed as ten minutes later my shuttle, i.e. a volvo estate with three Americans already in the back, duly turned up. After doing a few laps of the city's one way streets trying to find a way out (half of the streets were being dug up and the rest closed due to the presidents imminent arrival) we were on our way.

I was dropped at the tica bus terminal two hours early so I checked my bag and went for a wander. I saw a last chance to experience Guatemalan culture across the motorway and thought what a great way to spend a few hours. I put on my sprinting shoes and ran through the speeding cars to get across to the megamall complete with McDs, BK and joy of joys Taco Bell. I feasted on taco fries and, appropriately, a volcano taco (cultural, no?). I enjoyed a few hours of wandering around shops such as Tommy Hilfiger, Zara, y'know traditional guatemalan fare, before the volcano taco duly lived up to it's name and for the second time that day my sprinting shoes proved themselves to be a lifesaver.

As the grand Tica bus pulled into the Guatemalan side of the border a murder of cambio men came charging towards us waving huge wads of quetzals and dolares. Putting on my best Roy-Keane-talking-about-the-FAI face I pushed through them to get to the border control. As I stood in (the wrong) line I amused myself by observing the tactics of the cambio men. The would stand outside waving their wads as if having the biggest wad was crucial to gaining credibility and business. Some would tap on the glass, others, when they caught your eye, would wave their wads and wink, kindred spirits with old men who hang around primary school gates with bags of fresh candy.

Back on the bus we drove the short distance to the el Salvador side of the border. This time it was all a bit modern with the border guy walking through the bus scanning our passports with a fancy piece of beepy machinery. No stamp in the passport?what's the point incoming here?!


There was time to hop off the bus for a super greasy popoussa and a coke as the guards checked the bags. I swear they only looked at the bags that belonged to locals. I say this because my bag was near the front and they just climbed over it to get to the cheaper looking ones. Either way after about a quarter of the bags they got bored so it was "Vamos" and we were off.

So I'm now sitting on the bus on the way to San Salvador where i'm staying with victoria and her boyfriend, my first couchsurfing experience. Tomorrow I'm off to playa el sumthin to try a bit of surfing and to see what el Salvador is about. It's gotta be good, right? After all it's got "al" in it's name.....

I couldn't take it anymore. I mean, I need my ass right? If it ended
up staying numb forever then how could I ever appreciate a good sofa
again? Nine hours in a hiace van from San pedros to Coban was enough.
I could do the two slow, windy hours to lanquin the next day. I needed
relief.

That's how I ended up in Coban, lovingly described in the lonely
planet ("LP" or "the bible") as "not so much an attraction in
itself...", in the rain. Cold rain at that. May as well have been in
Ireland, at least there I would have a warm bed and a mammy ready with
a roast chicken sandwich and a glass of the latest super value red
wine if the month.

As it was I was alone in coban, slightly damp LP in hand, trying to
find hostel chipi chipi (closed down), followed by hostel jam bamboo
(doesn't exist) before hotel la Paz proved the bible can be right at
least 33% of the time.

I settled into my private room and tried to convince myself that the
mcdonalds I'd spotted on the drive in was a bad idea. It's amazing how
a seemingly intelligent person with all sorts of letters after his
name can have a debate like this with himself and still have no
conclusion after half an hour.

Only thing to do was to go for a wander with the bible and some
quetzals and try sort out a plan for the week. The town itself was
dark, wet and dirty. I was tired and grumpy. We agreed that I'd do my
business as quickly as possible then I'd leave it alone to get on with
being "not so much an attraction"...

Target one: Internet cafe. God forbid I go more than 24 hours without
reading the Irish times. Target two: pollo campero, a guatemalan kfc
which I justified as being a compromise between mcdonalds and
Guatemalan cuisine. It is Guatemalan owned after all. Target three:
bed. Easy.

That was yesterday.

I'm now sitting in a thatched hut beside a fast flowing river,
cappucino in hand, cinnamon roll in belly, listening to the white
noise of Israelis garbling in Hebrew and watching the hens cluck their
way around the garden. It's overcast but not raining, warm and not
cold but at the same time it's cold but not warm. Is there a word for
that temperature? Answers on a postcard please to al c/o el retiro.

The bus here was by definition a chicken bus as there was indeed a
live chicken in a plastic bag one row in front of me. The chicken was
joined by three adults and five kids all in the same row. The bus made
frequent stops to squeeze more people on and to fix the cling film
that passed as a window by the passenger seat. I had the pleasure of
being warmed by a genial hombre gordo to my left and the crotch of a
thinly moustached chico to my right. At one stage I also had a tamale
carrying woman by my feet and another leaning in front of me whose
odour was a skillful mix of a few weeks worth of sweat and fresh
coriander. With companions like these the need for heating was
eliminated.

This is how I justified spending €1.50 on a cinnamon roll and a
coffee. Sometimes I deserve it, right? The plan for today us to
perhaps lie on a hammock, maybe gave a poke online, chill out if you
will. Tomorrow I'm doing a tour of the caves and water pools. That's
the reason I put myself through all those buses. It had better be good!

Until next time....

Adventures in Lilliput

Chica turned 11 yesterday and to celebrate we had fried chicken with rice and not a lot of chat. There was no cake (boo!) but the mood was lightened by the introduction of a new set of juggling balls. Everyone had a go, everyone struggled. The lessons continue today. Anyway the point of this post is to show you pictures of the family I´m living with in the Lilliput area of town.

Anyway here´s a few pics of my family. I couldn´t get the pics to rotate though, try turning your screen on its side for easier viewing!

From Family photos - san pedros
From Family photos - san pedros

Sunrise at the Indian´s Nose

It's pretty rare that a promise made over a roast dinner in a pub on a Sunday evening to get up the next day at 2.30am for a hike is actually kept. Today was one of those rare exceptions. That's how I ended up sitting at a deserted dock at ten to three this morning.

By ten past three in the a.m. our group had assembled and the guide had turned up. Both unlikely events! We hiked through rough, steep, sloppy terrain for 3hrs to reach the tip of the Indian´s nose. The view from there was breathtaking. I'd only ever seen the sun sitting on the horizon with a blanket of clouds below from an airplane. Real front-of-a-religion-textbook stuff.

We sat and watched the sun rise over a duvet of clouds, between volcano peaks, quiet in awe of what was in front of us. It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.

To make the day that bit better, after running back to San pedro for my 9am class I was told that my teacher was ill. So I'm lying in bed looking forward to a day of chilling out and napping. Tough ol life....

Family life in Guatemala

For the past week I've been living with a Guatemalan family in the centre of San pedros. It's headed by francisca and felix with Judith, rebecca and 11yr old chica.

A typical day here involves breakfast at 8.30am which can be anything from corn flakes to a chicken stew with tortillas. From 9am-1pm I go to school by the lake for Spanish lessons then back home for lunch. Lunch is the main meal of the day here usually consisting of a stew with rice or some meat, always served with tortillas. I can´t count the amount of tortillas I´ve had in the last week!

After lunch I do my homework(!) then try and get some exercise like kayaking on the lake, swimming or running. Admittedly I´ve only kayaked once but it was very tiring, must be the altitude, right?

Last week was special as Rebecca was graduating from high school. There was a fiesta dinner with the grandparents and family. Such is society here the girls (including rebecca) spent most of dinner making tortillas for the rest of us. When they finally made it to the table they were eating off polystyrene plates. Kinda surprising to have the guest of honour working in the kitchen until the end. The meal was a quiet affair with the main focus being the consumption of food, there was no real chat or alcohol.

After dinner grandad #1 spoke for ages in maya, giving advice to rebecca and lots of thanks to the big man above and to felix and franny for all the hard work they put in over the last 18 years. At this point felix started to cry uncontrollably. By the time grandad #2 took the stage fran had started leaking too. Meanwhile the three giants (fi, rob and I) were sitting there not knowing what to do as our maya isn't quite up to scratch and we didn´t know if we should stay around to watch the breakdown of the family!

Everyone had a go at giving advice to the poor girl (I didn't say anything as my advice probably wouldn't quite fit in with the guat life.) finally they were done and after a buen proveco and a muchas gracias we made our escape glad to have been a part if it.

San Pedro de la Laguna, Guatemala

Aesthetically San Pedros de la Laguna is not a pretty town. It's cramped alleyways, breezeblock "houses" and mess of telephone wires are what you might call "rustic charm" but to be honest it just reeks of a "this'll do" attitude. That attitude is fair enough given how people live, there is no room for the nice-to-haves in life. The town is right on the lake but you wouldn't really notice it unless you went looking.

The main tourist street is essentially an alley, barely big enough for the tuktuks and motorbikes that like to zoom down them. It houses many many bars and cafes, nearly all of them owned by ex-pats looking for a more sedate life. Little did they realise that the competition between all the bars has reduced the price of a litre of beer (to share of course...) to about e1.80. The bars are pretty cool though.

The Buddha bar is a great spot for live music. I went to the open mic night and listened to some aged and some not so aged hippies jamming on their guitars and bongo drums. I guess when you're a dirty hippy you have plenty of time to practice guitar as they were all pretty awesome. Three or four of the bars show movies every night which is great for just chilling out and taking a night off.

I've been placed with a Guatemalan family about five minutes walk from the main alley. They are so nice and very, very authentic! In fact this is the one part of my trip in central america so far where people genuinely dress like they do in the guide books. I have my own room (with padlock) and get fed three times a day. Food is traditional maya stuff with shedloads of tortillas made on the cooker, I try to help but I think my strength is always going to be pasta and goo.

The kitchen is located across an alley from the house, under an avocado tree with a lovely view of the lake. The main cooker is like a steel table encased in fireproof tiles with a wood fire burning under it to provide heat. Everything is cooked on this steel, water is boiled, eggs are fried and of course the tortillas are cooked directly on it.

I'm planning on being here until next sunday at least as the spanish lessons are going well. Mi Maestra Estella halba mucho espanol y yo quiero habler espanol tambien. Lessons are from 1-5 every afternoon under a reed canopy down by the lake. I kept on getting distracted by hummingbirds buzzing by my head yesterday and by the occasional horse wandering by. It's a really beautiful setting for skool. The Kielys are heading off towards Belize this Sunday via a Mayan theme park and some other Guat sights. I'm going to stay here until fluent(!) and then head south through el salvador, honduras etc.

I've been doing a lot of thinking while on the road and I reckon that I should focus on getting as many stamps in the passport as possible before settling back into the real world sometime in 2009. So the plan is now to head south as far as Argentina and then head west towards Australia or NZ to maybe work for a while and then make my way back to Ireland somehow. I love the freedom of this plan as I can just as easily cut it short and head back to home at any time. This plan is just what I'm thinking right now and will probably change along the way!