Summing it up in Antigua (Day 51)

Having just passed seven weeks on the road in Central America and now having only two days left in Guatemala before I return home this Thursday, I find myself cooling my heels in Antigua--I've run a bit over budget this week--and mentally summing up my journey.

My trip was successful in many ways.  First, and most importantly, I allowed myself enough time to get truly immersed in the local culture.  Though my original, vague goal of reaching beautiful Merida, Venezuela via Costa Rica and Panama was probably unrealistic given my penchant for taking things slowly and my unwillingness to spend more than four hours in a bus on any given day, I did achieve an important secondary goal of visiting several new places--notably Leon (Nicaragua), Perquin (El Salvador), Chichicastenango (Guatemala), and the beautiful countryside of the Ruta de Lenca in western Honduras (Los Cipreses, Marcala, La Esperanza, Gracias, and Santa Rosa de Copan).  Also new for me were my brief stops on the Pacific coasts of both El Salvador and Nicaragua.

It was very important for me to give this trip a lot of time.  My initial trips here in 2008 and 2009 were too brief--and too rushed--for me to do much more than take a quick glance at a region I'd found I liked at least as much as Southeast Asia--if not more so.  One of the joys of traveling in Central America is the geographical fact that all these countries are very small, so the backpacking tourist can cover quite a lot of ground in relatively little time.  Despite their size, however, these countries together boast an incredible diversity of peoples, languages, food, climates, and geographical features such as mountains, volcanos, cowboy countryside, beaches, two very different sea or ocean coasts, and numerous lakes--from the huge Lake Nicaragua to the large Lake Atitlan in Guatemala--and numerous smaller lakes and rivers between. 

Secondly, once I'd postponed the Costa Rica leg of my journey, that opened up the possibility for revisits of Copan Ruinas (Honduras) and Antigua (Guatemala) this past week.  Despite the fact that they were second time visits for me, they definitely remain highlights of this trip since I was able to capture hundreds of images of these beautiful places on my "photography mission."

My photography mission itself was a third important goal  for me.  I was able to take the time I needed to seek out and note photo subjects, mostly of city/town/village buildings and streets, and return later to take photos as unobtrusively as possible.  There were three main reasons for this approach.

First, up until this time I had almost no experience taking hundreds of digital photos, so I considered this to be a learning experience for me.  Early in my trip I didn't take very many photos at all, preferring instead to get the lie of the land.  Later, after I'd become more sure of myself, I began to shoot much more, but with a strong emphasis on experimentation with light, shadow, composition, and subject.  My aim here was to try to improve my skills shooting pictures with the modern equivilent of the old "instamatic".

Second, I didn't want to make myself a target for beggars and hustlers, or worse, thieves and muggers, by walking all over the place with a camera around my neck.  Whenever I did shoot photos, usually I kept the camera in my shirt pocket or in my daybag until I found a likely subject.

Third, when it comes to photographing people, it pays to be discreet, especially in this region.  Guatemalans in particular (but this goes for people all over the world) don't appreciate foreigners taking photos of them without permission.  Consequently, I was very careful not to be too aggressive with the lens.  Since I had almost no experience shooting candid photos of people, I was particularly careful to tread that path cautiously.  I have probably improved a little bit in this area.  But readers will notice that--once I get my photos posted--there aren't very many good photos of people apart from some typical street scenes.

Another important goal I achieved with this trip was the establishment of a credible travel blog which I can continue to build in the months and years to come.  Committing myself to writing something almost daily was important in that it kept me on my toes, forcing me to wander--not aimlessly as I might have done two decades ago--but with some specific destinations in mind, always remembering that I had to be loyal to a readership (no matter how modest).  This helped me to focus everyday on seeing things with a writer's eye.  Everyday became a different story for me, and the challenge was to try to improve at creating a daily story that would be compelling to the general reader.  I'm not sure how well I succeeded in that, but I think I've definitely made a good start.

The Thrill of Completing the Tourist Checklist

Being a norteamericano backpacking tourist in Central America is hard work!  I'll bet you didn't know there are a lot of chores involved.  On top of being around and getting around in security and safety, you have to research hotels and restuarants,consult guidebooks and maps, look for bus stations and buses to get to the stations, get laundry done every few days, and you have to do all this while trying to stay on budget.  Plus you have to get all these things done in a language which is not your own.

It may seems strange, but quite often I wake up in a mild panic because I have such a lengthy to do list, and today was one of those days.

1.  Find a cheaper hotel room, check.
2.  Get cash at ATM, check.
3.  Take laundry to service shop, check.
4.  Log on to hopefully high speed internet, check.
5.  Update blog, check.
6.  Check email, check.
7.  Buy memory card for camera, check.
8.  Arrange transport to Chichicastenango and back, check.
9.  Go to supermarket, check.
10.  Pick up laundry before the woman closes shop, check.

You get the picture.

I love getting all that stuff done by noon, so I can go out and do my 'real mission' which is the reconaissance of photo ops, then later walkby picture taking.

Check back again soon for a more detailed post about my photo mission in Central America.  Until then, I'm going to enjoy this ultra cool city enjoying its very fine weekend.

Copan to La Antigua

Finding myself hardly in the mood Thursday morning for a six hour microbus trip I stayed in Copan another night, and I'm glad I did since my ticket to the ruins was also good for a secondary site further down the road, Las Sepulturas, which experts theorize may have been housing for the ancient Maya civilization's power elite.

Though smaller than the primary site, Las Sepulturas in its way is even more impressive.  Almost completely shrouded in jungle growth along a couple dirt trails, these ruins capture the imagination in ways the more touristed main area doesn't.  As I was busy snapping away with my camera, and filling my memory card in the process, it occurred to me that kids would love this place.  In a setting out of an Indiana Jones flick, on ruins where one can easily climb to the top and be master of all one sees, children can fancy themselves warrior princes and princessess from another millenium.

The mosquitos, however, were vicious.  Located on lower ground than the main site and close to the winding Copan River, swarms of them lie in wait for the instant you stop to take a photo.  And these suckers can bite through denim!  Experts remain puzzled about the reasons for the sudden decline of the Maya.  Could the lowly mosquito have played a bit part?

Yesterday's bus ride was relatively easy and uneventful as I shared a micro with a British couple and a German woman.  We had the whole van to ourselves, and apart from some Friday evening traffic snarls in Guatemala City, everything went smoothly and we were only half an hour late. 

Antigua, yet another Central American capital, is a classic destination in these parts.  Even though there are tons of tourists here and the prices are higher than elsewhere, I'm glad to be back for a return visit to swim in the town's lovely charms.  Because this capital city had more staying power than other towns like Gracias, it's larger in area and has many more architectural marvels.  If I can buy a new memory card I'll probably go hog wild with the camera here too.

The timing of my arrival here may be fortuitous as tomorrow, Sunday, is one of the market days of Chichicastenango, which is only a couple hours northwest of here.  I'm looking into joining a $10 day tour so I can remain based in Antigua.

Gracias a Dios! Another Highlight. . .

After two nights in Gracias I feel the pull of its magnetic charm sucking me into itself with the plea:  stay here for at least another night!  This place is making me want to stick around nearly as much as Leon captured me this year and Granada/San Juan del Sur did in 2009.

According to legend the founder of Gracias, a 16th century conquistador, struggled his way through the rugged country of the region looking for a suitable site to build a Central American capital city.  When at last he stumbled upon this relatively level but small valley, he is said to have fallen to his knees crying:  "Gracias a Dios!  Finally some flat land!"

Its attributes were immediately apparent to me once I was checked into my room at the Guancascos.  My room is on the top level of a multilevel edifice built into a high hill overlooking the entire town.  The terrace outside my door therefore offers one of the most stunning private views in the area.  Rocky forested hills surround us but in stark contrast to the typical hot and dusty towns of western Honduras, this place is enveloped in multiple hues of green foliage. 

The hotel--maybe the finest in town--is owned and managed by an expatriate Dutch woman, Frony, who oversees a capable staff of locals who run the good restaurant (with excellent local coffee) and keep the place beautifully clean.  At around $20 nightly, this place is one of the best values I've encountered on a six week journey of hotels which runs the complete gamut.  I believe most of my readers will not blame me for feeling that another late afternoon with a cold drink on "my" terrace as the sun goes down, enjoying the beauty of this place, is definitely in the cards.

On the recommendation of Rachel, the intern I met in Marcala, I ate at the restaurant of the Posada de Don Juan where I ate a sopa de tortilla that absolutely was to die for.   (A common regional dish, sopa de tortilla has a curry-type soup base with fresh cheese, avocado, and baked tortilla chips--like Doritos without the MSG.)

The town has the usual cathedral, in this case a small colonial structure, and a well-kept parque central plus a couple very good supermarkets as well as the usual bustling local markets and dusty bus terminals.  Despite the obvious signs of poverty in some of the residents (my post yesterday was partly inspired by the unusually high number of beggars I've bumped into here) there are also unmistakable signs of prosperity, notably in the many young people.  Perhaps this bodes well for the area's future.

A somewhat unusual feature of this beautiful little town is the 19th century castle which is perched even higher than my hotel and has absolutely stunning views for miles around.  In the cool interior of the castle are informative placards in Spanish and English, one of which tells us that the local kids grow up playing here and "many fall in love here."  This confirmed my initial impression that the site has all the best characteristics of a lovers' lane. 

The foreigners one meets here are mostly young volunteers of various NGOs and of the Peace Corps which, in Honduras, has its largest delegation (of about 260) of any other country in the world.  But here and there one can meet other backpacking tourists like me.  It's well worth the effort it takes to get to this remote settlement--which maybe is yet another good reason for me not to push onward too quickly.  Of course, the longer I stay here the more remote my chances of getting to Chichicastenango, at least this year.

I have eleven days to get to Guatemala City for my return flight home.

Doing A Small Part for the Local Economies

I'm "wealthy" around here which is why I have to be cautious and situationally aware. It's also why I have to spend money wisely--and hopefully in ways which help the people who most need it--without my going broke in the process.

I don't have a hard and fast rule against giving to beggars, though my default response is no.  The thing is, despite the very real poverty you witness all over Central America, there aren't nearly as many beggars as one might expect.  But there a few, and I find that they are mainly older people, men and women of middle age and older.  When it comes to beggars I have a soft spot for elderly women because I know how hard women of all ages work around here--you see evidence of that everywhere you go--so if an old woman is begging I figure she's truly desperate.

With working age men, I usually say no, but if they can speak some English I will hear them out, then maybe offer a little help.

Far more common than beggars are the many people who haved carved an independent niche for themselves in the economy by peddling various items on the street or on buses or at bus terminals.  Candies, drinks, fruit, various hot foods, and fresh snacks like roasted peanuts or carameled popcorn are among some of the edibles you will find being hawked by itinerant peddlers, these mostly by women.  And watches, wallets, flashlights, CDs, and DVDs are also commonly sold--typically by men.  If fresh snacks and fruit or bottled (more typically bagged) water is on offer, I will often go for it, because these items are always very cheap but great value.

My main contributions to the economy, of course, are for lodging,  food, and transport (basically in that order).  Some hotel owners are quite obviously wealthy, but there are many others who are running a mom and pop affair.  For ordinary folks who have converted their old courtyard home into a guesthouse, the cash I and others bring to the table can be a real help.  And in any given town I always try to eat at least once in an ordinary, modest, mom-type comedor because she's putting her kitchen to work for her family.

If I can find espresso coffee I will spend my money there.  Sometimes these places are owned by foreigners, so I'm aware that I'm not directly helping the locals very much with my custom in that case.  But foreigners always hire many locals as employees, and so I do my part by tipping them if the opportunity arises.  I make liberal use of the tip jar, marked propina in Spanish, not by leaving a lot, but by always leaving something.

If I can't find an espresso shack then I'll look for the best 30 to 50 cent cafe con leche in the market.  When I find a good one the seller will get a tiny extra boost that day because I will usually buy 3-4 of them--and the same number the next morning!  By that time, the locals in the market "know" me fairly well. . .

In the bigger, more expensive restaurants I always tip my waitresses (it's usually young women at this job), and when the service is extra fine I sometimes even tip a little too much--maybe a dollar more than was necessary, not all that much for me, but helpful to her.

I also make a point of tipping the ladies who clean my hotel rooms--these women work very hard, and the evidence for that is in the fact that nearly every room I've rented, no matter how old or new, big or small, ramshackle or sleek, is always spotlessly clean.  For these women I try to leave a certain amount per night's stay.  Again, it's not a lot of cash for me but I know what I leave will help someone's family.  And often I can hire that same woman to do my laundry--another little bit that helps her a little, while helping me a lot!

Often I'll round up taxi fares.  I have found most taxi drivers to be really helpful and professional, despite the not-so-sparkling reputation they have worldwide, but in my experience I've rarely been "taken for a ride."  So in Central America I don't over-haggle with the the driver, but tip a bit instead.  It's well worth the extra few cents it costs me because in this economy another 5-10 lempiras (30 to 60 cents) can be stretched some way by the driver (he can stretch that 10 lempiras in ways which I simply can't).  And let's face it:  isn't that a whole lot better for me than getting ripped off?

If I've ever been overcharged or ripped off in Central America, I've concluded,  it's nearly always my fault for neglecting to get the price up front, or because of some other carelessness on my part.  When that happens, I shrug to myself and say, "That was a lesson well worth the cost!" because hopefully I won't make another expensive mistake like that again.

In Gracias!

I had a pleasant surprise today when I found that the road from La Esperanza to Gracias is paved nearly all the way, cutting an anticipated four hour trip down to three.  The 25 mile stretch from La Esperanza to the halfway point San Juan was so new that the painted lane markers couldn't have been more than a week old.  For the locals this must make their lives a bit easier, at least for getting around more conveniently.  And it occurred to me that with this new road, the area suddenly goes from being very underdeveloped, to having one of the best roads in all of Central America--a "first world" perk!

I'm realizing now that my Lonely Planet guide definitely needs an updated edition, at least for this part of Honduras, since their stated travel times around are no longer valid.  And whereas three or four years ago, when my edition of LP's Central America on a Shoestring was published, there were no hotels in San Juan, today I counted three as we passed through.

How quickly things can change, even in a very impoverished place like western Honduras.

Gracias is a lovely town but much hotter than in La Esperanza.  I'm staying at an excellent place, the Hotel Guancascos, which is perched on a hill overlooking the town and features a large terrace restaurant.  I will stay here for at least two nights which will take me to Sunday July Fourth.  I now have just a little less than two weeks--about 12 days--to get back to Guatemala City.

Why Not Travel With Fiddle in Central America?

Now that I've arrived in a place that's crying out for some good oldtime fiddle music, it seems the ideal time to address the issue of travel with musical instruments, or in my case, why I haven't traveled with my violin on these recent trips to Central America.

Since we were kids in a growing "Suzuki violin family" I had always traveled with my instrument, whether to Disney World or on other family road trips, but especially to Grandma and Grandpa's.  Our parents felt it was important for us to play impromptu concerts for our relatives and friends, but we also had a fairly strict rule in our family:     we had to practice every day, even on family vacations, as Shinich Suzuki always urged Suzuki families to do.

As a young adult my fiddle became both my "passport and bank account" as I used my musical skills to earn money for travel, eventually becoming a globetrotting busker in 1980s Western Europe and 1990s Southeast and Northeast Asia.

 My instrument and the music I played weren't only a means of earning a living, but also served as a great way to meet people of all stripes--especially other musicans and other buskers who traveled along the same routes that I did.  This was a great advantage to me in my globetrotting as well as in life in general.  My fiddle has taken me inside many situations which never could have happened without the very fact that I was a working musician, and mostly outside my home element in the United States.

These are some of the reasons I have always traveled with my instrument.  But now that I've become a teacher, it's been possible for me to join a world of the ordinary tourist.  I think of it as a type of "accidental tourism," to qoute from the novel and movie of that title, because in doing so I felt way outside of my usual element.

When I first started traveling in Latin America in the late 1990s and early 2000s with a couple trips to Mexico, I continued to take my instrument along even if I didn't use it very much.  Colonial cities such as Guanajuato or San Luis Potosi were made for the itinerant musician, but I didn't do any busking there, preferring instead to hear Mexican groups in the streets and plazas of those cities.

When I returned to Thailand for visits in 2005 and 2006 I continued to bring the instrument because many of my friends there are musicians and it was always possible to sit in and jam with them while they worked.  And on my 2007 visit part of my purpose there was to record some 22 fiddle tunes which I did with a couple collaborators on guitar.

So why not travel with the instrument now?  Really it comes down to a couple logistical issues, starting with post-9/11 hassles and airline baggage restrictions.  For a time in the mid-2000s musicians all over America were complaining that the airlines were, in some cases, forcing them to check their instruments in the cargo hold.  Though that era seems thankfully to have passed, more recently the airlines have become very strict about the size and number of carry on bags they allow, and they charge about $25 for each bag over that they require you to check in.

Secondly, my first two trips to Central America in 2008 and 2009 were only two weeks in length.  Because of some uncertainty regarding the difficulties of bus travel in the region, and since I anticipated that I wouldn't use my instrument very much--if at all--  I decided then to leave the violin home and travel only with a small backpack and a day bag.  This turned out to be the most convenient way to get around, but especially on the airlines and on some of the notorious "chicken" buses (they just keep packing them in like Colonel Sanders) in Guatemala, Nicaragua, and neighboring countries.  I have to admit that questions of security also weighed heavily in my mind:  would I lose my instrument to forgetfulness (a life-long nightmare of mine)?  Even worse, would I lose it to theft?  It didn't seem to be worth the risk for trips of such short duration.  Yet I also must admit that I felt very strange traveling without my fiddle on those two occasions.

What about this trip now, which is seven weeks long?  Well, I'm still dealing with the issues outlined above, but a major difference now is I'm taking a lot more time with this journey, so now the question has reasserted itself.  And with my arrival in Perquin, it seems a shame that I won't be able to get to know the villagers and their children by offering up some fine impromptu fiddle music for their entertainment and enjoyment.  Music has always been a cross cultural way to break the ice and form some connection with strangers.  And that I'm not doing so on this trip is indeed a bit disconcerting for me.

This question certainly will pop up again whenever I decided to take more than a week or two in a given region.  I would like to find a way to travel again with a backpack, a day bag, and an instrument, but for the moment I'm glad I don't have to worry about an expensive violin, and how I'm going to transport it safely on the next crowded, rattletrap of a bus I board.

Unanticipated Honduras Leg Adds Excitement

We've had fairly steady rains for three days straight in northwestern Nicaragua, southern Honduras, and eastern El Salvador, but meanwhile I've managed to cover some miles the past two days, and I've fixed an itinerary for the coming week.

With the postponement of the Costa Rica leg, a new Honduran leg becomes feasible, even desirable.  Apart from two recent transit trips through Choluteca and a brief visit to Copan Ruinas in 2008, this will be my first extended visit, so as always with a new place, I feel excited.

After a day or two in Perquin, to begin hopefully tomorrow, I can continue north on that road to Sabanetas at the Honduran border which will place me in western Honduras.  The first big town on that road is Marcala.

Continuing further northwest will bring me to the the colonial town of Gracias, founded in the 16th century, another of the many Spanish capitals dotting Central America.  The Lonely Planet tells me this region is seldom visited by  the tourist, but that it's even more charming for that reason.  This is relatively high country, surrounded by beautiful mountains and populated with friendly rural folk.

From Gracias the road winds up in Santa Rosa de Copan which-- the Lonely Planet warns--is still some hours from the famous Copan Ruinas, which is another primary destination for me.  Though I visited this massive Mayan attraction two years ago, the archaeological site is so impressive and well preserved that I feel I should pass through again in order to get some photos.

From Copan Ruinas, the Guatemalan border is just ten minutes away, so I can cross back there, take a bus to Antigua, and hopefully have time to visit Chichicastenango before wrapping up this trip.

Projected Itinerary Beyond Perquin

Following Perquin I may re-enter Honduras and travel by back roads to re-visit the Mayan ruins at Copan.  This is worth another look for me because this time I will be able to take photos, unlike when I made the journey there in August 2008.  Alternatively, I can reach Copan by traveling to the El Salvador/Guatemala border near Esquipulas then cross to Honduras from there.

At that point I anticipate traveling by microbus from Copan to La Antigua de Guatemala, a six hour trip which is the reverse of the one I did in 2008.  From Antigua I can make connections to Chichicastenango and other towns further northwest.

That will pretty much wrap things up for me for this round of Central American travel.  As of today I have just over three weeks to catch my flight back to the U.S.

Liking the Rainy Season for the Same Reasons I Once Hated It

I like traveling in the tropics during the rainy season which contrasts sharply with my attitude during the time I lived in Thailand in the early 1990s.

Contrary to popular belief, the rainy season doesn't mean it rains all day everyday.  But often it rains toward the end of a very hot, humid day which can cool things off considerably.  Even when it doesn't rain, there might be thick cloud cover which cuts the blinding glare of the tropical sun.

In Thailand I played fiddle in a Thai country music band.  We worked nights, often every night of the week.  In Thailand, the high season is known as the "cool" season because the weather is not too hot in the daytime, while at night it can be pleasantly cool (or "cold" as the Thais call it).  The high season (November thru Februrary) was very busy and lucrative for us musicians.

In March and April comes the brutal hot season.  It gets so hot that even the Thais complain about it.  Temps of 100 Farenheit are not uncommon.  Nighttime doesn't bring much relief.

The rainy season in Thailand is the longest season of all--May thru September or October, just as in Central America.  As musicians, we still had work every night, but it was definitely the "slow" season for us, and we had much less extra work gigging on private parties, for example.

While now I enjoy the late afternoon rains here in Nicaragua, in Thailand at the time these would hit just when I getting ready for work.  Since my principal mode of transport was by motorcycle, this often could be problematic for me if the timing of the rains was bad.  Once I had to skip a high paying gig because I was caught in a heavy downpour, ending up completely soaked and in no condition to join my colleagues for the gig, who mostly had real cars and pickup trucks.

Now that I'm not working nights in the tropics, I really like the feel and the sound of an all night thunderstorm.  It's very refreshing.  And on rainy days here, often the buses are a lot less crowded, so it's easier for me to get around with my gear.

At this time of year in Central America, as in Thailand, there are fewer tourists and fewer crowds in general.  Often this means that I can get discounted hotel room rates.  What costs me $20 now might cost double in December or during Easter week.

Perhaps the worst thing for me about the rainy season in Thailand was simply the long, dreary length of it.  Similar to the length of a Wisconsin winter, by the end of September, as I recall, I was very weary of the rains--even a little bit depressed by it.

That would make the imminent arrival of the cool season in October/November something to rejoice in and celebrate. . .

In Leon, Nicaragua (Day 18)

Visiting old colonial Leon is a no brainer for me since I consider myself to be a ¨collector¨ of colonial cities in Spanish America.  Among the attractions here is the largest cathedral in Central America but the central district is dotted with surprising old buildings from history.

I decided at the last minute yesterday to forgo Perquin and focus on making some miles toward Costa Rica.  A couple buses got me to the Honduras border at El Amatillo, and the crossing was relatively hassle free.

On a very hot day I caught the slow bus for a 2 hour long trip to Choluteca in southern Honduras.  This is cowboy country with plenty of cows, horses, and the men who ride and drive them.  By now we´re also out of volcano territory and in a dryer landscape marked by short trees and scrubgrass.

Choluteca, the largest town in this part of Honduras, had everything I needed within a block of my hotel, itself not far from the bus station.  Restaurants, internet, and gloriously an espresso shack!  This morning I had the best coffee I´ve tasted since way back in Ataco, El Salvador.  Buen sabor!

Much needed aircon and not so needed TV were cut off last night with sudden thunderstorms which cooled the area considerably.

South of Choluteca on a microbus this morning the landscape changed yet again into a much more lush version of 5 or 6 different shades of green.  Cloud cover kept temperatures bearable for the travel.

The Nicaragua border at Guasaule was mercifully also very easy to cross without much bureaucratic fuss.  Seven bucks and I was in for 30 days, though the experience was marred slightly when I was grossly overcharged for a cyclo taxi.  Yet it´s the first time in 18 days that I´ve been grossly overcharged for anything, so I reckon I´m doing alright.

Another fast microbus took me to Chinandega where I connected for my final bus to Leon which is about 60 miles northwest of Managua.  The countryside here changes yet again with 3 or 4 massive volcanos visible in the distant clouds.  It´s still cowboy country but the land is much less dry than in southern Honduras and the soil appears to be very rich.  Viva la cultura de los vaqueros. . .

Leon is a premier destination for me, along with Tortuguero and Caribbean Panama, so I´m privately celebrating my arrival here.  I was so charmed by my short walk around today, I´m sure I´ll stay at least 2 or 3 days.

I have just 34 days to get back to Guatemala.  In the week ahead I plan to hit Masaya, Granada, Rivas and San Juan del Sur before I go to Costa Rica perhaps a week from today.

The Oddness of Seeing Dollar Prices from the 1970s

I like to travel for the new people & places you can meet & discover. And I like to travel in the tropics for the weather & the food--both of which generally agree with me.

But I have to admit that I love traveling in the developing world because the lower costs also very much agree with me. Whether you get 33 baht, 10 pesos, or 8 quetzales for the greenback, those lower costs don´t quite compute like they do in El Salvador, which ditched its own currency in 2001 and adopted the dollar. Nevertheless, it´s truly odd to see prices in dollars & cents that I haven´t seen since I was 12 or 15, or even 20 years old.

How about pastries for 15 to 55 cents? Or an ordinary cup of coffee for 20-60 cents? Bus fares for between 35-75 cents, or a dollar at most. A can of Coke in the supermarket for 30-35 cents. A sandwich for two dollars, breakfast for $3.00. Fresh OJ for 50 cents. A delicious latte for $1.50 or $2.00. Aguardiente (the local firewater) for $2.35 in the supermarket. A short taxi trip for $2.00-5.00, a long taxi trip for $10-15. . .the list goes on.

I have high speed internet for 50 cents an hour! That´s a far cry from the $13 per hour I saw offered in an American airport.

Some prices are more "normal" for me, I guess. Hotels, for example, run the full spectrum of price points. I try to average $20 per night for two star rooms with TV & private bath, and I mostly succeed, but sometimes you have to pay $40-50 for something that´s not much better than Motel 6 at home. On the other hand, sometimes you pay that much for something really nice.

And gasoline, sold by the gallon in Central America, is usually the same or more expensive than in the U.S. Here in El Salvador it´s $3.30-3.50 a gallon.

But ultimately what can´t be beat is the fact that these places--where most of the ordinary people you meet are poorer than the average Westerner--often have some of the most natural beauty in the world. It´s a cliche, I know, because of a famous credit card commercial, but that´s fairly priceless. . .

Tropical Storm Agatha Devastates Guatemala

Check out the link to the upper right for some facts on the recent storm in Central America which hit Guatemala particularly hard, leaving at least 145 dead, 53 missing, and more than 100,000 homeless. Tropical Storm Agatha was the first major storm of the season and it also hit southern Mexico and the area of El Salvador where I´m writing this now.

Sat May 29 (Day 6) & the Rains

When it rains it pours! And it`s really coming down today. I took advantage of a brief lull & grabbed a bus into town so I could check the ATMs again. I still can`t get cash from my account, though I`m still able to use the card for debit/credit. This is very inconvenient long term because I have only a limited amount of cash dollars which are a hassle to change and which I need to preserve for emergencies. I can last a few days but I hope I don´t have to call the bank.

The rain is so relentless today that I really didn`t feel like dealing with any travel at all, but I took advantage of the time to research the next leg or two. One option, which I`ve just about rejected, is to make my way to Guatemala`s nearby Pacific coast. The town of Monterrico in the coastal preserve Biotopo Monterrico-Hawaii looks kind of interesting for the turtle sanctuary but the hatching season doesn`t start til June. Meanwhile the guidebooks tell me that Guatemala`s Pacific beach towns are either run down or sleazy (or both). Much more interesting would be the stretch of beach towns just west of La Libertad in El Salvador. Apparently this little corner of Central America has some of the best surfing in the world--and lessons for $10!

Tomorrow, rain or shine, I think I`ll make straight for the El Salvador border and then to Ahuachapan, a pleasant colonial city I visited in 2008. This town is close to a couple Mayan ruins sites & some little-touristed mountain villages in El Salvador`s western coffee plantation region. From there I can visit the beaches then proceed to the capital San Salvador & points beyond.

As the Sun Goes Down I Follow the Locals

In the tropics people start their day pretty early, and their day tends to end earlier too, as it basically following the progress of the sun.

There are many good reasons for this, especially on travel days when I like to get a bus to my destination between 7-9 a.m. in order to arrive at the next town & get settled before it gets too hot in the afternoon.

And though I used to be a night owl when I was a journeyman musician working the bars & clubs, these days I'm not at all into the nightlife scene when I'm at home or on the road. When I'm traveling it definitely helps keep the budget balanced if I'm not spending very much on drinks & nightclubbing.

At sundown people here head home, and all over the city the gates are coming down--not just on businesses & restaurants but on the one & two star hotels where I hang my hat, and the gates are coming down on people's homes too.

Given that most guidebooks advise foreigners to avoid walking the streets after dark and to take taxis everywhere (for even a short trip to the wealthy Zona 10 from the hotel in my less-wealthy Zona 9--just a ten minute walk--it is recommended that you take a taxi), I tend to follow the locals when in Rome. So here in GC after dark I prepare to take an evening meal somewhere nearby and pretty much call it a day after that.

¡¿Where's the D%&ç Bus Station?!

One of my least favorite chores on the road in Latin America is figuring out which bus I need and from which bus station I have to find my way out & onward to my next destination. Unlike in some countries, Central American bus companies have their own private terminals, and most big cities have several of these large, chaotic terminals spread out over a wide area. So it can be tricky to navigate your way from hotel to terminal--especially if you want to save money on taxis--and from terminal to hotel in the next town or city.

Even when I have the assistance of maps & guidebooks, as I do here, I am often frustrated in my research. For example, my Guatemala Rough Guide indicates that the Tica Bus Company, which runs major routes all over Central America, has its terminal just three blocks west of my hotel (unusally convenient for me, in my experience!), but when I went for a walk to look for it yesterday I found no sign of it. Errgghhh. . .

Sometimes the bane of my traveler's existence, Latin American buses are a reality you have to deal with sooner or later--if you want to stay on budget and get around overland. But unsurprisingly I will sometimes stay an extra day someplace just to avoid dealing with it a little bit longer. . .