A room for the night...

Has anyone been following the sort-of-new-theory that germ phobia contributes to allergy increases in industrialized nations?

Quoting myself there (couldn’t find a good one)…

Let me begin by pointing out that most people should not expect to (or want to) live in mini-America while traveling and there is a vast difference between a little dust and conditions that lead to gangrene.

My personal philosophy is a hotel/hostel room is somewhere to sleep. I don’t want to travel fourteen hours in coach to spend my valuable travel time watching HBO in my room, so my room requirements are not that high. It’s true that not everyone shares my views on what constitutes an acceptable room. Your choices will depend on what your budget is and how important the little luxuries are to you personally. For example: do you need towels, air conditioning, private bath, meals, or a window?

Don’t assume that because the room is far cheaper than what you can find at home that it’s not an acceptable establishment. A good place to start differentiating between the cheap places and the dumps is a good guide book. Cheaper hostels don’t always have websites which makes it harder to find them outside of books. 

A good place to look for a second and third opinions is Trip Advisor (www.tripadvisor.com). The prospective hotel’s website is not always a reliable place to find honest reviews. For example: Lovely hostel two blocks from the Zocalo, lovely complimentary reviews; it was the noisiest place I’ve ever stayed. The design of the building amplified noise and when the charming rooftop bar closed at 1 am you could hear all the intoxicated conversations that continued in the stairwell. I checked Trip Advisor when I got home and all the reviews mentioned the noise problem.

Things you might not think of:

• ·         Bedbugs have lately become an issue for travelers. They can be found at any budget level. It never hurts to check the mattresses for signs of bedbugs before you settle in. They don’t carry diseases, but they are very expensive to get rid of once you transport them home (I recently read that one pregnant female is all it takes to start a colony). I always check, but haven’t come across them myself yet.

• ·         Is there hot water for showers? (This may not be important in hot climates)
• ·         Are the electrical sockets usable? (I’ve seen a few squirrelly examples)
• ·         If you are self-catering, is there a kitchen available?
• ·         (From my own personal experience) Are there any resident roosters living next door?

The Guidebook

I missed an important step in trip planning – buy a decent guidebook. The Internet definitely provides a wealth of information. It allows you to look up what activities are available, book your hostel and transportation in advance, communicate with people that live there locally. The guidebook still has its place, though.

I’ve found that the cheapest hostels often don’t have websites and are impossible to find outside a book. If you are looking for mid-range to high end establishments, the Internet works fine. Be sure to check your hotel out on sites like TripAdvisor as hotel websites can tell you anything – doesn’t mean it’s true.

A guidebook will give you a good overall picture of your destination and transportation options. There are many forums on the Internet that will give you local current information, for example – recent bombs or where the dodgy ATMs are located.

A good guide will have local maps and step by step instructions about important things like which bus do you need to get on to get to (fill in the blank) and how much should it cost. Be sure to look your prospective guidebook over closely to make sure it contains this type of information, some do it better than others.

Another advantage to the guidebook is that when you’re lost out on the street, it’s much easier to whip out a book and look at the map than track down an Internet connection.

What to Wear?

When preparing to travel, lay out all your clothes and all your money.  Then take half the clothes and twice the money.  ~Susan Heller

The temptation is to take more clothing in case you need for (fill in the blank), but unless you are traveling for business or something formal, most backpackers can make it with three shirts, a couple pants/shorts/skirt combo, and two changes of underwear if they are willing to wash as they go. It doesn’t matter what you take with you – you will hate it after two months of traveling. No one sensible looks like a runway model on the road. The bright side is that you can easily buy clothing as you go, often cheaper than you would at home, and they make great souvenirs.

Tips to make packing light more efficient:

• ·         Your clothing is more or less color coordinated so you can create multiple combinations (and thus avoid once in a life time photos like the one to the right - it was a long time ago and I obviously didn't give the color coordination angle enough thought :).

• ·         It’s worth investing in the new style of travel clothing that is quick drying and wrinkle resistant (wait for them to go on sale).
• ·         Pack with layering in mind, which will make your wardrobe more versatile.
• ·         Unless you’re headed to North America or Europe, not sure I’d bother with shorts. Most other cultures don’t wear them. (Please, no short short cut offs in places like India – it’s embarrassing what some people will wear - do your homework)

I personally don’t care for the greasy feel of sunscreen, so I often go for the long sleeved moisture wicking shirts. They are modest enough to suit most cultures and I don’t have to slather on as much sunscreen.

I also carry one light weight thermal bottoms, which can make light summer pants more comfortable on a cold night in the mountains, while waiting before dawn for a bus, or traveling on an overly air-conditioned bus (see Guatemala Night Bus). A light fleece layered over a shirt or two is also very warm.

If traveling fast and light, denim isn't the best choice. Jeans are relatively heavy and take forever to dry when washed or rained on.

Bling...

My husband gave me a necklace.  It's fake.  I requested fake.  Maybe I'm paranoid, but in this day and age, I don't want something around my neck that's worth more than my head. 

 ~Rita Rudner

Leave it at home. Actually, leave anything that you can’t bear to lose at home. Accidents happen, things get lost in repeated packing, pickpockets abound at most tourist spots. Why draw unwanted attention to yourself with eye-catching jewelry? I do buy jewelry on the road, but I keep it in the bag until I get home.

Besides, are you traveling to learn and experience or to impress the locals with how rich you are by wearing items probably worth a year of their wages?

Not wearing jewelry does not guarantee that your pocket won’t get picked, but I believe it reduces the temptation.

Shoes...

“All God’s children need traveling shoes.”

Maya Angelou

The most important item you will take on your trip is a good pair of walking shoes. Travel often requires hikes across enormous airports, walks through subway systems, and extensive standing in museums, castles, or long lines to buy tickets. Nothing spoils the joy of travel like uncomfortable shoes and blisters. It doesn’t matter if your shoes are designer or bargain basement, make sure they are fit to walk in and that you buy them early enough to break them in properly.

Packing a couple of Band-Aids will come in handy for the occasional blister, so you don’t have to chase them down, aggravating your feet. My husband, who has a great deal of blister experience, suggests using a needle to drain the blister before placing a Band-Aid on.

To minimize your travel weight, take one pair of shoes and maybe one pair of sandals. There is rarely a  reason to pack four pairs of shoes. If on that extreme occasion you find yourself in desperate need, buy a pair locally.

New York City via Chinatown

OMG! It's been a classic Walker holiday.

 I was to meet Darren at the Medical Center Metro. I got there early and read. Darren jumped off the train and I waved. He jumped back on the train and I didn't make it. I waved from the platform and made hand gestures to indicate I would meet him at the next station -yes, it did look as stupid as that sounded. Having finally met up, we made our way to the Chinese Bus Station in Chinatown.

We'd never used this company before, so we had to look around. Found it in a dingy basement. I tried the restroom. It was covered in colorful and imaginative graffiti-mostly pertaining to sexual preferences. I nearly took a photo for posterity, but Darren has told me I need to contain my inner geek.

We waited in the station. It filled up quickly with a mixture of backpackers wearing last year's Mountain Hardwear kit (some women are into designer shoes, I like travel gear), students, the economically challenged, and cheap old geezers like us :) Many seemed to be headed for Philadelphia.

At boarding time, we gathered on the sidewalk. In true far eastern fashion - there was no line and no English. The only words I understood were e-tickets! Waving our printouts, we hustled forward and found seats.

People boarding were still talking about Philly. I asked Darren if we should ask the driver to be sure we were on the right bus, but he pooh-poohed it.

We had an uneventful tour of eastern seaboard Chinatowns until we got to Philadelphia. Everyone got off the bus! It terminated there. Near panic, we bounced off the bus to see if we could get a connecting bus.

 A plump young Asian guy met us at the door, waving our connecting tickets. We just had to wait 30 min.

 Our evening went downhill after that. We boarded the new bus with no problems. Unfortunately, we chose the seats in front of the loudest people on the bus. I'm sure everyone on the bus heard their mating ritual conversation – “Are you married?”, “ What kind of woman do you favor?” etc.

It went on and on for over two hrs. Made me feel nostalgic for truckers who are direct and to the point – You want sex? No. They move on. Much simpler, saves time.

 We heard their whole life stories - and they weren't that interesting. Which shocks me to say, as I'm sure you know, I’m usually very nosy in wanting to hear the details. I also had a headache from my impending cold that contributed to my lack of appreciation of the romantic spirit.

The whole bus heard the young love conversation. I thought the guy was full of it, Darren thought the young woman seemed interested.

As the bus stopped in NY and people started to debark, I glanced back and asked them if this was Chinatown since the fellow had indicated during that horrendous conversation that he often took this bus into NY for his modeling/acting career. He looked a little scruffy to be a model. But he indicated that this was Chinatown. It wasn't, so we got back on the bus.
 

The bus dropped us on a near empty street in Chinatown around 11:30.

It was a dark and clear night in the middle of Chinatown...

We struck off to find our hotel. After consulting the map a few blocks away, it seemed we were going in the wrong direction, so we reversed for six blocks and re-consulted the map (which, by the way, was not designed for the over 40 crowd unless they remembered to pack their reading glasses, which we had neglected to do).

Seems we had been going the right direction originally. So back we trod - with thankfully light packs. We found the Sun Bright Hotel around midnight.

They had kept our room - #23. We laughed when we saw it - I think it must have been a converted broom closet (6 x 8 or so). Seemed clean enough though, didn't notice any obvious signs of the dreaded bedbugs. Walls were paper-thin, a bargain at $80 a night. I was fortunate that I'd brought my white noise soundtrack on my iPod and earplugs. Darren was not so lucky. He didn't sleep well between the talkative neighbors next door, the suspected dorm above us, added to which the hall light shone on his face through the large crack in the door. There was a huge crash on the ceiling at something o'clock in the morning. I missed the whole thing as Darren said I continued to snore away. He commented that NY is the city that never sleeps and when he was here, he wasn’t going to get any sleep either.

We're sitting here at the Chinese bus station. Darren's looking over his pics from this morning on his netbook. I've got my nifty borrowed keyboard, typing on my blackberry.

We made a groggy pair as we stumbled around getting ready Sat. morning. Darren hadn't slept well and I'm just not coherent until I've had a couple cups of tea.

One thing the Chinese do that I love, is they often have hot water on hand everywhere. In China it was easy to come by on trains, dormitories, etc. We lived on pot noodles. It was a pleasant surprise that the Chinese run hotel kept hot water available, especially since we realized the limitations of our heating element (it will boil a cup of water, but if more than one cup - it will only heat the top half). (Yes, I realize we should have tested this before we left home :))

The shared bathroom was clean even though there were just two for the whole floor. In the interests of reduced luggage, I washed my hair with plain soap. I'd read about people doing so and found it to be adequate. This is when I realized we hadn't packed a brush. Early morning packing is not something I do well and since Darren now shaves his head, he doesn't use one now. I did the best I could with my fingers and the unexpected bathroom supplied hair dryer.

To hit the road running, so to speak, we breakfasted on pot noodles, walnuts, an apple, and, of course, tea.

We did not get the early start we hoped for, but it was respectable. It was unfortunate there was track maintenance on the 6 line. It put a crimp in our route. We ended up at Lexington and 63rd St. It didn’t take us long to get turned around.

I approached an older gentleman dressed all in black on the street corner and asked directions to the Met Art Museum. He seemed a little startled. I wasn’t sure if it was the temerity of my question, my strange accent, the untidy state of my hair, or the copious dog hair on my person that he feared would infect his black clothing. Darren stepped forward and asked the direction of Central Park. The gentleman was very helpful and pleasant. I now realize the surprise induced by my question was probably due to the fact that we were some distance from the museum - which again looked closer on the map :) (I must remember to get reading glasses).

Somewhere near the lama exhibit on 5th Ave, we stopped to check our progress on the map. A homeless man stopped and asked if we needed assistance. We indicated that we were ok, but thanks. We were left scratching our heads as he happily continued on into the park. So far New Yorkers were not fitting the stereotypes perpetrated by violent/action TV. I suppose it would be difficult to maintain constant violence/action on a day-to-day basis.

After our refreshing 20 block power walk up 5th Ave, we split up. Darren wanted to continue his power walk around Central Park and I wanted to take in the Met.

I thoroughly enjoyed the museum – or at least the first floor, which is as far as I got before I got hungry. I love to look at the minute/artistic details on everyday items. My camera doesn’t do macro photography or zoom as well as Darren’s, so we switched cameras. The Tiffany stained glass window was beautiful, but didn’t come out well in the pic. The Egyptian section was impressive. They had designed the galleries for medieval artifacts (most being religious in nature) to feel like you were walking through a cathedral. I highly recommend it. We’ll be going back to NY at some point and I’ll see the second floor. http://picasaweb.google.com/117405333436994601330/20101024NYC#

I met Darren for a quick sandwich at Subway, then we headed off to the Rockefeller Center to view NY from above. On the way we saw Sponge Bob Squarepants. They say anything goes in NY :)

The lines looked long at the Rockefeller Center, but the staff were efficient. In no time we were posing to have our photograph taken with the Empire State Building behind us and taking pics for our fellow tourists. At one point Darren extended his arm and took a blind shot of us with Central Park in the background. He checked the picture and took another. Checked it, and snapped another. I asked what was wrong and he replied that his head had a funny shape. So we have several pics of Darren tilting his head this way and that, trying to compensate for a misshapen head. Most of the pics of us were on Darren’s camera and he’s posted them at http://picasaweb.google.com/darren.518/NewYorkWeekend2010#

You can also check out my distressed hairdo. I’ve been working harder to be more color coordinated in pics, but I forgot to get my hair trimmed before the trip.

Then we were zooming off to catch the sunset over Manhattan from Brooklyn. We snapped pics of the Manhattan skyline and the Statue of Liberty as the sun went down. The wind was cold, I dug out all those layers I’d been carrying with me all day. Darren said I was likely to be arrested for being drunk as I lay prostrated on the sidewalk to get photos of the statue of liberty without the fence in the foreground.

 

Feeling pleased at our productive day of touring, we left Brooklyn to hang out with the other tourists at Times Square. I’m not sure what to make of Times Square. That part of my brain that retains a smidgeon of WV sensibility finds it mind boggling. Part sees it as a monument to wasteful consumerism in our society. It’s like going to the circus to be amazed and horrified by feats and freaks.

We stopped off for a bathroom break and tea at McDonald’s – always quick and convenient. The one near Times Square has a fully lighted marquee outside. The inside is designed like a dance club with music videos projected onto the bare brick walls, music throbbing through the entire building. The young woman who took our order impressed me with her calm unflappability in the face of the massive crowd coming in the doors.

We continued our tour of Times Square. Darren took some good shots. We stopped by Walgreens for cold medicine (I’d been looking for a pharmacy all day). I’d been sucking on cough drops all day. We were tired, so we headed back to our broom closet.
   
If we got up early enough, we thought we’d catch the Staten Island Ferry to view the Statue of Liberty up close. Darren woke up at 4:30. I refused to budge. So he wandered down the hall. He said he saw a woman in just a sweater and her undies heading for the showers. At one point a man was sitting at the one Internet terminal in just his Y fronts (Darren assumed he was French). It was a very liberal hotel :)

I was still up early enough to go for the ferry. We were stymied once again by the subway. We waited 40 min for the M train, as the 6 line was still not running. We gave it up and decided to tour Chinatown. The Chinatown area is more extensive than expected. We walked for a good three hours up and down the side streets and still did not find the outer borders. There was a creepy lack of the American icons – Starbucks, McDonald’s, Wendy’s, etc.

People were bustling about, mostly selling produce, and extremely fresh fish. Darren took pics of all the crabs. We settled on a schizophrenic Vietnamese coffee shop for tea. It had Vietnamese sandwiches, French bread and pastries, Italian gelato, definite identity issues. The tea and coffee were great though.

We were asked again by an elderly man if we needed help when we whipped out the guidebook to check something. I suspect a secret plot to overturn pre-conceptions about New Yorkers.

Our feet were tired, neither of us had slept well. We finally picked up our stored backpacks and propped our weary feet up on a brick wall overlooking the basketball court in a local park.

We got back on the China bus and took the opportunity to nap. I woke somewhere south of Delaware. It was a fairly uneventful bus ride. The dogs and cats were glad to see us when we got home.

On looking over this narrative, it occurs to me that we often come across as the two stooges traveling without a clue. I don’t know if that’s exactly true, but does make for more interesting reading than if we always got it right.

Journey home and other misc notes of useful items

You'd never guess that Guatemala has the fourth highest murder rate in the world. The people are so nice. We would heartily recommend Guatemala. We didn't have any shady incidences.

Our trip from Panajachel to Antigua was without incident. We got our first room back at the Dona Angelina - not the one with rattling window panes that I had to stabilize with a tube of toothpaste.

We organized our shuttle for the ride to the airport, got some lunch, found some rolls for a quick breakfast, and then went to bed early.

Must have been windy last night because the window pane in this room rattled as well. As it was an upper pane, I had to lean my backpack against it to stop the rattle.

Between the rattling window panes, night buses, roosters, and dogs we've not gotten a lot of sound sleep. I'm sure we look like something the cat drug in this morning.

Darren just came back with some tea and coffee as I sit here typing in the airport. He was one Quetzal short for the cream to put in the coffee.

I believe I've picked up a mild stomach bug these last few days. The Imodium has kept it in check for the most part. I will be sure to eat bland food when I get home - not sure I know how to cook bland food. It could be just from the copious amounts of beans here, although we have been more adventurous in our eating than usual when traveling.

Things I never thought would be useful on a trip to Central America, but have been indispensable: thermals for those night buses, nights in hammocks, and generally when the weather is cooler than expected. My jacket has also been a must. Mornings waiting for a bus in Antigua are cold.

Darren says on the next trip he would bring deodorant (it was a space issue) and a knife/spoon set. The Spanish dictionary has not been used.

I would probably bring an extra mug as Darren has co-opted mine for his morning cup of coffee. I’d also bring a second bra. Some mornings my single bra has not been completely dry as promised in the travel shop ad.

Other notes: The American couple that had done most of South and Central America suggested putting religious icons and addressing packages to "Sister...." to get them to arrive unmolested in the post.

Solola Market or Death by Chicken Bus

OMG! We nearly died and Darren laughed! He was still crazy with the high produced by the colorful market at Solola. He loves the markets here. We got the chicken bus back down the mountain afterwards. I knew we were going to die. The driver took the hair pin curves at top speed. I could feel the wheels on one side leave the road as the bus swayed. My hands were white gripping the seat in front of us. Darren laughed and took copious photos of me and the view of the lake like we were at bloody six flags!

As you're reading this, you may have guessed that we didn't die after all. But I've had second thoughts about riding the chicken bus back to Antigua.

The market at Solola was amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it-not even Walmart on double coupon day on the day after Thanksgiving. We could barely walk through the crush of native ladies doing their shopping. One guy carried a full size wardrobe on his back. This wasn't the tourist market like Chichicastinango, so we weren't hassled. There were some persistent ladies just outside the market in the park. One caught Darren as we left. He was still counting things in Honduran currency, so she got a very good price, but it goes to support the local economy, so can't be mad.

Everything under the sun was sold there. Great tarps protected the sellers from the sun. Darren held his camera at his hip and snapped away, trying to be discrete. There weren't many tourists, and those mostly weren't discrete. Darren's looking at the photos now to see if he got anything usable. I will have to remember to get him a James Bond type camera for Christmas for these types of situations.

We’re packing up now for the ride back to Antigua. We'll spend the night in our hippy retirement hostel and get a shuttle to the airport at four am. Last night was the last chance to do laundry with any hope that it would dry before the trip.

Yesterday was a quiet day. We rested up for the horrendous journey home. We did our part to support the local economy by buying souvenirs. We sat by the lake a while and watched the shoe shine boys having a high old time swimming in the lake. Darren people watched at the cathedral while waiting for a wedding party to come out so he could get a photo. It was a long ceremony and he finally gave up.

My hat is now the worst for wear - sweat stains from El Peten region, dirt spots from being rolled around in shuttles and buses. It looks well traveled.

I think I mentioned the lovely garden at the hostel in Copan. It was small, but had an impressive range of plants and blooms. I was there two days before I realized that she'd wired on big fake red blossoms to one type of plant(don't know what it was). There were enough genuine flowers that you assumed they were all real.

The reason I mention this is our current hostel in Panajachel also has an impressive garden in the courtyard and they have also included a few fake blossoms amid the impressive real collection.

We're now on the roof of the hostel enjoying the sun and a cup of tea before our shuttle arrives - no more chicken buses in the mountains.

Darren says he will fill you in on the true story when we get home as he doesn't find my posts reliable. :)

Santiago and St. Moximon

It's bloody cold here this morning. I have found many opportunities to wear my thermals on this February trip.
 
In Panajachel it's mostly about soaking up the beauty of the lake and shopping. Loads of stalls selling everything from embroidered anything you could want - including the local mens' traditional knee length shorts - to jade necklaces and wood carvings.

We didn't make the chicken bus to Chichicastenango. After yesterday we weren't excited about 5 more hrs on a bus. We may take a bus to Solola market tomorrow as it’s only one hour.

After picking up some rolls for breakfast at the local bakery for 0.30, we went down to the lake to take photos of the volcanoes and have breakfast. We, of course, shared it with the local stray dog.

We walked along the shore in search of a cup of tea when a local man asked if we needed a boat across the lake. There was one leaving in ten min for Santiago. As it was on our list to visit, we went.

There was an American woman on the boat doing humanitarian work. The poverty conditions are horrendous outside the tourist centers.

The village was larger than expected and we didn't have our guide book, so we wandered looking for the church door with an excellent Mayan carving and the Saint Moximon. Moximon specializes in whiskey and cigar smoking.

We found the square packed with local women in traditional dress. Darren sounded close to tears that he couldn't get any photographs (the local women don’t like it). They were beautiful, the embroidery on their dresses exquisite.

Told Darren I wasn't going to defend him when the little ladies got angry with him surreptitiously taking their photos, formed a mob, and chased him thru town waving machetes. He was on his own.

We gave up hope of finding Moximon and got a tuk tuk. The driver took us there. St. Moximon was an effigy housed in a dark room down an alley. There were several men in attendance and they looked pleased to see visitors. I got the impression this was the local mens' club. Darren tucked some money into one of Moximon's scarves. 

Next on the list was the Mayan door carving (which we hadn't found at the local cathedral). Darren didn't know how to ask in Spanish, but we finally came up with Mayan door at church. The driver seemed to understand when I said Mayan. He happily took us back to the cathedral, but we never found the door (later saw in guidebook that it was an alter carving we were looking for).

We were winding down. Had another cup of tea, looked in some of the shops, and headed back to the dock.

There was another American waiting for the boat to go. She was late 50s, here teaching English as a volunteer.

We'd had a busy week and this was our margarita time, so I took a nap.

We watched the sun set over the lake and got dinner at a Mexican restaurant. They were happy to accommodate a veggie burrito request even though it wasn't on the menu. Should have known it would have carrot in it (I’m allergic to carrot). Had to chase down a pharmacy and ask for benedryl as I started to itch. It wasn't as difficult to ask for as anticipated.

Copan to Panajachel - long and informative journey

Wow! What a bus ride-6.5 hours. We are camped with our luggage at the Rainbow Room for a nice lunch. Darren has gone to get tickets for the next leg to the famed Lake Atitlan, which is 2.5 hrs away.

We had a hodge podge of foreigners on our minibus. Most got off south of Guatemala City to connect to Tikal and areas east, which left a lot more room.
 
We had a very enlightening bus ride with some Americans from Seattle who put us in the know about Central American travel. Seems we were worried about nothing. Most of her explanations were entertaining. They were hard core travelers who had done most of Central and South America. Here is what she had to say about the scary news reports we saw before leaving home:
 
Bus robberies in the Peten Region(Flores and Tikal): after the war, the local militia didn't get paid and the government doesn't put a lot of effort into maintaining peace there. So these ex-soldiers periodically stop buses for an unofficial toll. Pay the bribe and be on your way.
 
Brigands blocking roads: protests against some government ruling, the locals simply get off the bus at the road block and are allowed to walk through it to the next bus on the other side. The brigands are only interested in impeding government and businesses.
 
The drug cartels are pretty established and the locals don't care as long as they are not violent and don't bring drug addictions into the community. The drug violence in Mexico is mostly between fighting cartels.
 
She did warn that Managua is bad news, but the rest of Nicaragua is great.
 
Very informative conversation. We suspected, but they verified that Copan was a tourist trap with most things being overpriced. She described a lagoon excursion where you used to be able to go out all day with lunch included for $1.50. As wealthy tourists went out with the guides and tipped them $5, the fare is now $7.
 
They got off in Guatemala City to continue to the border as their three month visa for the region was expiring (Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, and El Salvador).

One item I must relate: saw some goats in the middle of Guatemala City on the way in. Apparently they are the latest in fast food here. You can get goat milk on the spot on the sidewalk. A new niche in the market. You never know, it could take off in America.

We got lunch at the rainbow cafe. Darren was very frustrated trying to change our remaining dollars to Guatemalan for possible shopping tomorrow. The bank demands a lot of info- like what address are you staying at? As we were in transit we didn't know where we were staying.

We got to Panajachel just as the sun was setting. The view of the volcanoes as the sun set was marred somewhat by our co-passenger who was sick out the window. There were only 4 of us on the shuttle from Antigua. The other couple was students from Iowa and Minnesota. Poor girl was sick all the way. We discussed health care policy with the med student.

We did a quick turn around the main street lined with tourist shops and restaurants. Darren only took one photo today – amazing - at the border crossing.
 
It's been a long day. I almost felt like puking with the poor girl today.

Our hotel in Panajachel is the best so far and at $12 per night a bargain. They didn't have a double bed, so we got the widish twins with private bath. It's in a quiet alley near the church. The owner is friendly and speaks a little English. He told us where to pick up the local bus to Chichicastenango.
 
After 13 hrs in transit, I don't want to sit on another bus for a very long time. But being a glutton for punishment, I've convinced Darren that we should brave the chicken bus tomorrow on our day trip to the Chichicastenango market 2.5 hrs away. I know, stupid right? I would like to give a chicken bus a go at least once and this may be our last chance. Due to the long distances needed to travel in a short time, we’ve opted for the speedier tourist shuttles.
 
This market is well known to be colorful with lots of souvenirs and possibly pickpockets if the State Department is to be believed. We will leave everything behind but the cameras.
 

Macaw Mountain, Honduras

We then swung around the outskirts of town. Darren tried to get a photo of some men shoeing a horse in the street. Saw lots of dogs. Most were too skinny. One was eating what appeared to be the plastic wrapping for loo roll. Darren fished out some bread for him. The dogs seemed better fed in Guatemala.
 
After a bit of a trek, we ended up on a well maintained dirt road that ran around the mountain. Darren had been looking forward to visiting Macaw Mountain this whole trip. And it was definitely worth the trek.
 
A guide comes with the cost of admission. He was a bit surly at first, but once he saw we were really interested, he thawed. His mom lives in Gaithersburg, not ten miles away from us. He called her while we were lingering looking at birds.
 
Macaw Mountain is a bird sanctuary. They take in birds people no longer want. The macaws live 100 yrs in captivity - many of the others 60-80 yrs. Several mate for life and we could see they were highly social - just the most beautiful birds. A well run, beautiful setting.
 
They had an area where some of birds sit on perches in the open and place the birds on your arms for photos. One scarlet macaw took a real liking to the plastic toggle on my hat string.
 
We went back by there before leaving. We kept snapping pics of parrots, toucans, macaws. The scarlet macaws exhibited definite attention seeking behavior. They were on the front perches and if you went further into the group of perches to get closer to the parrots and blue macaws, the scarlet ones would make a ruckus fighting with their mates (marital issues I guess) until you turned and started photographing them, they then piped down. One wanted to eat my hat - also tried to chew on my camera.
 

  All the birds seemedintently interested in what we were doing - watching us as we went around the group. An awesome place to visit if you ever make it down this way.
 
The next order of the day was a pizza splurge (Mama Mia makes excellent veggie pizza) and to spend the rest of our Honduran money. We leave first thing in the morning. So we went shopping for souvenirs.  We then tried to pack previously mentioned souvenirs in our packs.
 
An excellent day. I took more pics today than I have the whole trip.