The Night in the Jungle at Tikal

Darren came back from investigating buses, face shining with jubilation. He adored the market - the dust, the activity, the noise. He'd located where the buses left, but wanted me there for moral support when he used his Spanish.

We asked the first driver if he went to Tikal and he said no, those buses left from the new station. We wondered if they meant the main terminal - which was a bit of walk in the heat, but the driver had pointed to the west, not the south. We walked a block and asked a shop keeper. Darren understood something about two blocks. So we walked the two blocks and looked around. As luck would have it, a minibus was leaving the market, so we headed where it had just come out.

We found the station. A man in a straw hat offered to help us and we wondered if it was like the guy at the airport, but he seemed to be some sort of bus organizer -they certainly needed one as it was a mad house. We had to wait 40 min for the next one to Tikal.

Buses churned the dust; hawkers hawked everything from sugared peanuts to combs, to Colgate toothpaste. Darren was in hog heaven. I've never seen him happier. He even let me buy him a local straw hat.

Our friend came to get us when our bus pulled in. It had picked up two very blonde Europeans at the main terminal. They weren't very interested. One young boy waved a box of Colgate under the guy's nose, but he ignored him. I usually politely say no thank you. They loaded the minibus down to maximum capacity. You couldn't have squeezed an avocado in there. It was hot, but once we were rolling, there was a nice breeze from the windows.

Darren was still high. He even agreed to my suggestion of touring Central America in a tuk tuk.

It takes about an hour to arrive at Tikal. It's in the middle of nowhere. Then it's a 20 min drive to get to the hotels and campground. We found the campground and requested the hammocks. The man who worked there set them up - a good thing as we would never have figured them out - a denim hammock with a cotton box around it for mosquito netting. There was a secure room to leave our packs. Unfortunately, no water in the shower block. I’ve become very fond of hand wipes. May become like Mr. Monk soon.

We stopped at one of the comidors for lunch.

If you get your ticket after 3:30, you can visit the park until dark and then it's good for the next day, too.

It was a 30 min walk further into the park to the first temple complex. There was hardly anyone there - just a scattering of folks. The pyramids are awesome. We climbed one in the main plaza. Well, we climbed the ladder at the side.

We worked our way around to Temple IV. It was a longer climb. I saw a guard texting up there while we enjoyed the view of the other temples rising above the canopy. I thought I'd try the Blackberry as I'd not gotten a signal in the park.

We thought we'd left the flashlight behind, so we were sure to start back with enough time before dark.

Darren was trying to photograph a small mammal (maybe tapir) when a spider monkey startled us by throwing a branch down.

After the monkey attempted assault, we found a coatimundi subduing his dinner.

We got back to the campground as darkness fell and realized we had the mini flashlight in my bag all along. We retrieved our stored bags and tried to settle for the night.

We were sweaty from climbing temples and the general high humidity, but it was cooler when the sun went down. Surprisingly, the night/nature was no nosier than at home - a few crickets and frogs, an occasional bird. Didn't need earplugs initially, but found I couldn't sleep with the faint ding ding from Darren’s camera as he reviewed the day’s photos. The hammock took a little to get used to, but was not uncomfortable.

I woke about 11:30 freezing to death. I rolled to the side to dig in my pack under the hammock for my thermals and jacket. Not expecting to need them in the jungle - I'd packed them on the bottom. By the way, an iPod makes an excellent flashlight in survival situations such as these :) After I was done digging my stuff was strung out all over the cement pad under my hammock. If you've never tried to wiggle into thermals (excuse me - base layers) and a jacket while lying in a hammock, try it sometime - just for giggles. Strangely, I felt clammy as well as cold. I spent the rest of the night huddled with my rain shell over my legs and my spare pants and shirt wrapped around my head. No, Darren did not get a photo. Thought about curling up with Darren to keep warm in his hammock, but there was no guarantee we both wouldn't end up in a heap on the floor.

Darren said he spent most of the night needing a pee, but he didn't want to get up and look for scorpions in his shoes.

When Darren called me in the morning, I woke with an, "Aaaahhkkkk!" It was pitch black. I finally dug out the blackberry under all my stuff and saw it had been going off for 20min and the park opened in 10 min, but I'd set it wrong and we had an hour to pack up my crap.

We repacked under the flashlight and waited for the grounds man to rise to store our stuff before headng into the park as the sun was just rising.

So that was our night in the jungle in hammocks.

Tale of Two Towns and Two Birds

Where was I?

Oh yes, Santa Elena at dawn. The town was pretty humid and hot even at 6am. A bit of background on these two towns: the guide books and most websites I viewed say that Santa Elena is dirty and dusty and has nothing to offer and most people stay in Flores.

So that's where we went. As it turned out, the Burger King by the lake was just opening for business. We popped in to a)remove my thermals b)get something cold to drink c) recheck the guidebook for room options.

We were looking at 2 hostels in the same price range. One said folks can get loud getting up for the 4 am shuttle to Tikal. So we went to the other - thinking it would be quieter.

Flores is more of a tourist ghetto. 95% of buildings are hotels, restaurants, gift shops, or travel agents. It's completely empty during the day when people make the trek to Tikal. Santa Elena does lack shade, can be hot and dusty, but is alive with people going about their business.

I believe I've adequately described what happened soon after our arrival. There was no refreshing nap after the night bus.

I wanted to ask for a change of room, but we'd already trashed the room doing laundry and Darren is much nicer than I am. We finally gave up the notion of a nap and went to get breakfast. After a meal and a cup of tea I began to feel better. Darren convinced me that the malfeasant bird should be rehabilitated far far away instead of assassinated. Sometimes it's hard being married to a nicer person :) We decided that we'd just go to bed early and get up with the rooster for an early start. That felt better.

With a new spring in our step, we set out to find the local bus to the skyway park (Parque Natural Ixpanpajul) - a private park with suspension bridges over the canopy. The guidebook said the bus left from the market.

Darren immediately loved the dusty market. Many of his best pics in the past have been candids of locals, but he's been busted a few times here by unhappy matrons. But he still gives it a go--tries to be unobtrusive.

It took a while to find the buses and Darren did an excellent job asking the drivers if they could drop us off.

The skywalk park is extensive and well maintained and had the cutest, tiniest burro. The horses were well cared for. In the middle of the day we had the place to ourselves as we walked up and down the hills and crossed the suspension bridges. The solitude after the difficult morning was wonderful. Not much wildlife at that time of day, but we found a small black monkey in a tree beside a bridge. Of course the cameras came out, but Darren’s battery died. I got a few shots before he scampered off. We also saw a toucan. The walk took about 2.5 hours.

The bus dropped us off at the main terminal, so Darren asked about return bus tickets. They were significantly cheaper than going through an agent although they didn't include the shuttle to Antigua.

Our return tickets in hand, we returned to the room to freshen up before dinner. Saw a cute parrot hanging on the window grill next door. The rooster was blissfully silent. We were happy.

To finish off the day, we had the non-local pizza and beer. We returned to the room not long after dark. As we settled in for an early night - the parrot started in on his racket. It was nearly as loud as the rooster. He piped down around 8:30 and we sighed with relief. Ahhhh silence.

About 10 pm the parrot was back with a vengeance. I'd had enough. I went down stairs to ask for another room. As my Spanish is abominable - this comprised of me flapping my arms about and squawking. The night man finally gave up and showed me another room. (I can't have been the first to complain about the birds).

Had to wake Darren- yes he sleeps through anything. We hastily packed everything up - wet clothes and all- and moved to the top floor, where you could still hear the parrot, but faintly.

The rest of the night passed without incident and the rooster did not rouse us at dawn.

We got our breakfast at the Cool Bean. An interesting place near the water that has begging chickens. The local dog didn't even try to compete, but took a snooze in the bushes in the garden.

We had the morning to kill, so we had a leisurely breakfast before packing up. We hung out at the water’s edge and dried our towels on the rock wall before heading into the market at Santa Elena to find our bus.

It was already hot and sticky at 11. Darren dropped me at the local park with the bags while he made inquiries.

I got to observe local life and this is what I saw. There were very few personal vehicles. Most got around on scooters, small motorbikes, or tuk tuks. Didn't see one helmet as they all went zooming up and down the busy street, whole families on a scooter.

As I sat there, a young girl in Catholic school dress (10-11) walked across the park and gave a white bag to the man sitting in a parked pickup on the edge of the park. He'd been there for some time. He took the bag and gave her money. She then walked up the street. I wondered if I'd just seen my first drug deal. I was busily writing the whole thing down in my journal (as I've not been taking out the Blackberry in public), when the girl came back with the man’s lunch. See what happens when I'm left unattended??

So that is the story of the two towns and the two birds:)

Night Bus Guatemala City to Santa Elena

We arrived in Flores safely. Room is very nice, but the rooster next door has decided to greet us. Could be bad in the morning.

Have made inquires about a poultry assassin.

The room was perfection: private bath, TV, no bugs, very clean, ten dollars a night. I had just sent Darren to pay for the room when the rooster chimed in. I should have known to move, but hoped he'd pipe down after announcing the day, but he's as bad as FOX News in a yellow journalism loop.

We braved the dreaded Zona 1 last night to get the night bus. We had some confusion about the tickets. As we waited for the shuttle to pick us up at our hostel, which happens to be across the street from the travel agent, the agent came over to tell us that the semi bed that we requested was not available-only reclining-as Darren understood him. No partial refund was offered. We had read that sometimes buses were in the shop and you got whatever is available.

We wondered why we didn't receive any tickets. When we exited the shuttle, the driver gave us an envelope, sort of went over the info, which we didn't understand, and pointed at the Maya de Ore sign. The envelope had money, but no ticket. We approached the ticket window and passed the envelope over and received tickets.. Looking at the tickets, it seemed they were $40 for both and we stewed a bit thinking we'd been cheated - when it occurred that the difference was for the shuttle, although $60 for a shuttle seems steep. We had to wait and see what bus we got. When we first arrived at the bus station, we saw a beat up old chicken bus and thought that was what we'd be spending the night on. It’s probably time we improved our Spanish.

The bus station didn't look abnormally dodgy, but all bus stations are dodgy. Zona 1 has a bad reputation. We sat on the floor in the corner, which wasn't overly clean, while we waited to see if we were getting a comfy sleeper bus or a colorful chicken bus. The only thing we knew for sure was that it left at. 9 pm.

The double decker red bus arrived. We were relieved that it wasn't a chicken bus (they aren’t known for comfort on a long haul). It looked nice. We hadn't gotten the sleeper, but the reclining seats were do-able. I had read from several sources that these buses get really cold, so I was wearing my thermal bottoms and had a jacket handy when I prepped for our journey into the jungle.

We successfully found our seats on the top deck near the front and settled in for the 9 hour ride. As the bus started out, someone turned on a video on the little TV at the front. We both groaned- thinking it would be blaring all night. I'd taken some Benadryl and tried to tune out the dreadful (American with subtitles) film.

Did sleep, but woke up around 2 am freezing my petuddie off -even with my jacket and thermals. I woke Darren to let me up to get my rain shell out of my bag. He gave me his. We stopped once, didn't bother to roll over. Teeth were chattering when Darren woke me outside of Santa Elena where the bus was to drop us at 6 am.

When we got off the bus, we were mobbed by tuk tuk (auto rickshaw) drivers wanting to take us to Flores. Flores is an island in the lake 3 km from the terminal. We wanted to walk it as we'd been sitting all night - and really - what else you going to do at dawn in a strange town just waking?

We exited the terminal - still groggy- with 2 choices. Were fairly certain which road we came into town on, one dead ended. Sort of eannie meanied and chose one. Lots of tuk tuks were headed that way, so we assumed we were going in the right general direction.

Locals were starting to set up the market.

Pacaya Volcano Hike

Another dawn rising. We were outside the hostel at 5:50 and worried we missed our 6 am shuttle because it was late. Darren had gone up the street to get a dawn pic of the volcano that overlooks the town when the shuttle arrived. We were the last passengers to load so we got the front seat.

Our driver looked about 18. His girlfriend happened to be walking down the street and he had a nice conversation with her for a couple of blocks as the shuttle kept pace with her. He even managed a smooch through the window. No conversation from the 14 or so passengers, just some cool Latin tunes. We were in high spirits though. I decided I was going to like Guatemala.

A dog had staked his spot lying in the middle of the road and refused to budge as the shuttle whizzed by. Maybe a suicidal dog? He looked happy enough, though.

I found the hike up the volcano to be a little disappointing. Not the scenery, which was spectacular.

The last group to head up the mountain, the guide drove us up the trail like a herd of crippled billy goats - ok, maybe I was the only one to resemble a crippled goat. I brought up the rear, behind the geriatric dude – very far behind. Darren kept ushering me to keep up. About 90% up I became an ugly American. I decided that the chances of her shooting me where slim. The trail was fairly well marked. And down the mountain is down. So I was the last to come huffing and puffing at the sparse breaks.

As I said, we were the last group to leave the parking lot and we passed two other groups that were well ahead of us. There were villagers following us with pony taxis. I suspect our guide got a kick back to rush us up the mountain so we're exhausted and require taxis. I don't believe there was a need for the rush. We had two 30 min breaks at the top and we waited around 30 min at the bottom at the parking lot before leaving. An extra 20 min on the assent would have been more pleasant. Felt like I was going to have a heart attack. Obviously yoga is not going to cut it for my sole source of fitness.

The views were beautiful, though. There were two amazing volcanoes in the distance. Walking on the volcanic dirt was difficult - sort of like walking up a mountain of sugar. Closed toed shoes were essential as the rocks were rough. The guide held a handful of dried twigs over a volcanic vent and they instantly burst into flame.

The village dogs accompanied us all the way. Though many were starving, they were cute and made the most of the begging opportunities. We didn't have anything on us but protein bars that had bits of chocolate. I convinced Darren to give one to two particularly starved puppies. I know chocolate is bad, but it only had a little and they looked so hungry.

On the way down I slid in some loose gravel and sat down hard. Believe I wrenched my shoulder some. I was covered from head to toe in ash or dust or whatever it's called. Thankfully we paid for an extra night in the room even though we're leaving at 6:30 to get the night bus. Need a shower and a nap.

We rewarded ourselves with a nice lunch at the Rainbow Room after our showers. The Rainbow Room is marketed to foreigners. I usually avoid any sort of fresh fruit or veg when traveling outside of Europe or the US, but they've prepared it so there is little worry. The food was absolutely delicious after a near heart attack hike.

More information on our room: Did I mention there are no mirrors in the room? You have to go to the end of the veranda to brush your teeth at the sink and comb your hair. The black metal door does not stay closed unless the dead bolt is engaged or the padlock is on. It's currently opened to let in fresh air as I catch you all up, pack, and relax a bit.

We'll be back Saturday and Darren’s already asked for the room back. By the way - haven't seen a single bug.

Darren got pics of the room and me huffing up the mountain. No banditos yet :)

Antigua

People are super friendly here. Darren has been practicing his Spanish by discussing soccer with the check in clerk.

A bit frazzled when we arrived, we went to get drinks at the local McDonalds. It was something else. It has an adjoining cafe and walled garden with blooming azaleas- really pretty. Has a guard at the door - no gun though.

Once we got our second wind and some caffeine, we set out to take photos. Toured the square - where Darren got caught red handed trying to serriptiously photograph a local woman with a large wash basin on her head. The square was a hopping place on a Saturday with young lovers and indigenous women selling trinkets. Beautiful weather.

We were so busy having a good time that we forgot to change more money, which brings us to this morning.

The streets deserted when we unbolted the court yard doors this morning. We scrounged around for breakfast, but I needed a nap. Two days without sleep takes a bit out of you.

Post-nap was when we seriously got down to looking for a way to change money. We lucked out when a cafe owner directed us to the Industrial Bank. Could have used an ATM, but have been reading that many here are compromised.

Darren stumbled through negotiations for our volcano tour tomorrow morning and the night bus to Flores. He did a good job, but it was work.

We strolled through the local market. They have some awesome textiles here. We walked around most of the day actually. My feet are tired. Even though sun is intense here, hats are not common. Darren saw some school girls on chicken bus this morning pointing and laughing at my hat :)

We took pictures of the colorful chicken buses that are like pimped out retired US school buses. You have to see them to believe - red flames, catchy names, flash colors. This is where old school buses go to die - how is that for recycling?

Antigua is a pretty town. The houses are painted bright colors and some of the churches have been restored. Others have been left picturesque ruins (from earthquakes). Two beautiful volcanoes hover in the background.

So basically we've not been very polished backpackers this trip:
Losing our luggage, forgetting to change money in a timely fashion, ending up in a retirement hostel. But all in all, we've laughed at our little mistakes. It's added a bit of excitement to the trip.

Will be heading out early for the volcano hike and we're getting the night bus tomorrow evening. We decided to pay for tomorrow night so we can get a shower and organized after the hike, so I may be able to update in the afternoon.

The "Old Backpacker" Hostel - Antigua

I promised to finish the airport story. Mostly due to excessive tiredness, we couldn't locate our one checked item. We were some of the last off our plane, we stopped to change a small amount of money (rate was terrible), bathroom break, etc. By the time we cleared customs, our fellow plane mates had been replaced by another flight's passengers.

We naturally followed them around to baggage claim. Darren looked up and down for our bag of liquids and couldn't find it. The staff was nice and we were starting the claim process when we noticed the form said Delta. There was no sign by the carousel. The very nice representative directed us to the correct area - didn't sneer once at the stupid gringos. It seemed a lot worse at the time because we were so exhausted.

I spotted a shuttle bus out the window and we were making our way to it to ask if it went to Antigua, when a nice young man came out of the crowd to ask if we needed a shuttle to Antigua. We said yes and followed him 20 ft to the same shuttle I'd seen, after which he asked for a tip - suckers - reminded me of an enterprising granny in China that did something similar to us when we couldn't find the Shanghai Train Station.

The bus ride provided a nice tour of Guatemala City. The copious amounts of barbed wire were disturbing. Darren said he saw armed guards at some of the small shops. Saw a delivery motorcycle for McDonalds. You could easily subsist on American junk food here.

The shuttle driver dropped us at the hostel we requested. The guidebook described it as an old backpacker hostel (I would quote directly, but I can't presently find the guidebook in our messy room). I chose it because it was cheap, offered storage, and seemed central. Also, as you may already know, I sometimes feel nostalgic for the backpacker hostels in Asia from long, long ago.

Turns out what the guidebook meant was: "old backpacker" hostel. We've found the backpacker version of retirement living! :) We made friends with our neighbor - a spry 73 year old. A font of helpful info. The middle aged couple isn’t friendly and the guy we saw as we returned this morning was 90 if he was a day.

You would think that with such neighbors it would be quiet as the grave here, but no. Lots of bottle rockets nearby last night, some giggling partiers, and we slept through the ranting, inconsolable young woman who woke our neighbor in the wee hours.

On to the room description: It's basic with a couple of decades of dust, no bedbugs though. I thought Darren would call me a wimp, so I said ok. Later he admitted surprise that I was ok with the room as he had his doubts. We immediately sought out the one socket. It was loose, so we wedged our mini power strip in with the headboard to keep the connection. Not enough furniture to hang a laundry line from, so we've moved it to the roof. The bath is down the veranda, in an alcove. Lots of hot water, but it was so cold last night that we waited for the chill to fade as the shower is essentially outside. Even Darren says the room is manky. I say it’s colorful (which always makes for a better story).:)

The flight to Guatemala

Laugh at me all you like - it takes real character to be able to laugh at yourself and your own foibles. Today offered many opportunities to laugh at ourselves.

But I should start at the beginning.

I have to say that 4 am has never been my finest hour. With only one hour's sleep - it's been a doozy of a day. My IQ drops 77 points for every hour I go without sleep. (I believe I may have mentioned my dislike of ultra early risings on previous travelogues - don't know why I keep scheduling them on our trips.)

The Continental desk opens at 4am and folks were told to use the self check in machines. We've used these in the past with great success, but on our last trip it kicked us out and said Darren had to see a staff person to verify his green card. Last night when I tried checking in online, it kicked me out, too. So I tried to explain to the nice man that we were pretty sure it wouldn't work for us (in a clear and intelligent, maybe even witty, fashion), but all that came out was, "He's English". What can I say-it was 4 am!

The nice man took pity on us and ran our information through the machine. I'm afraid my tech skills had degenerated to 1920s standards. Turned out he did need to verify Darren.

We got a snack and a drink. As I’ve given up tea (again), I had juice. It had been cold in the terminal and I couldn't seem to get warm. I traded my window seat for the opportunity to hold Darren’s hot cup of coffee as a hand warmer.

My first post was riddled with errors and I forgot bits. For example: I meant to say we we're not celebrating the new adventure by cheering on the Metro because we were in a sleepy stupor.

As soon as possible, I pulled out my iPod and gaudy teal blue eye mask and proceeded to drool all over Darren as I tried to catch up on sleep. Surprisingly, he resisted the urge to take a photo of my drool.

Aside from the drooling, the flight was uneventful. We changed in Huston. A whole plane of gringos was going to Guatemala. One lady from Nashville tried to recruit us to work at her clinic in the mountains as puppeteers. I did recommend my nurse practitioner friend as a great candidate. She said she’d be in touch :)

The real adventure began once we got off the plane in Guatemala. We haven't felt like such green tourists in a long time. Part of it was due to exhaustion and partly because it is the worst airport I've ever seen for signage. Fortunately no one was arrested.

I am so beat that I will relate more tomorrow.