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 By the time we cleared customs, our fellow plane mates had been replaced by another flight's passengers.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).:)
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