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Published: September 8th 2010
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From Copan Ruinas in the Honduran foothills we were heading for Livingston on the Carribean coast of Guatemala. We were up at 5 to catch a local micro bus to the Honduras/Guatemala frontera. We swapped to a tourist van at the border, which we then exited at Rio Hondo, next catching a passing large bus which took us most of the way, then got off at a road corner and waited again in the searing heat to catch another public bus to Puerto Barrios. Before its final stop we leapt off at the closest street to the port and did a 20 min walk from there down a road with all our gear to finally reach the lanchas (boats).
The public lancha waited until it was full of passengers, then we were all off to Livingston. On the way we passed scissor-tailed frigate birds flying and pelicans diving for fish and we also spotted some idyllic beach front properties. But when we arrived our search for the cheapest most interesting option resulted in us settling ourselves into a posada in the town, supposedly between a brothel and a fish market. In its favour, it was right on the water and
a friendly family run place, with its own little jetty. Livingston was an interesting town with a lot of creole/garifuna people there. We had a look around the town - pretty dusty and run down but had a charm of its own. Nice beaches with potential, but they looked a bit grey. I played with Angie, the wee girl from the family that run the posada, while Keith and Tessa ate dinner of fish, prawns, rice and salad washed down by a Gallo (local beer). Angie did some pretty manic dancing with me, which was an interesting experience, but unfortunately resulted in a number of injuries that may need some attention when I get home (broken knee, dislocated shoulder). And I was feeling so good after Tessa’s Dad operated on my broken hip before we left New Zealand! Anyway, Livingston was very warm and that night after the dancing was the hottest night Tessa has ever had, and she lay awake in the heat listening to the sounds of a couple of people having a good time next door…
Next morning we were off on a public lancha again, this time heading up the river (the Rio Dulce) towards
Angie the dancer
See the look in her eye a town, also called Rio Dulce. We stopped for a few minutes on the way at some thermal springs on the side of the river, just enough time to leap in and get nibbled by some little river fish in the hot water. The skipper took us up a cute little arm of the river that was filled with lily pads and their white flowers and we also passed by an island full of roosting black cormorants. Once the river opened out into a lake it became a bit choppy and into the head wind the overladen boat struggled to get onto the plane. Once we got to the town of Rio Dulce the rest of the passengers got off at the wharf, but the skipper was happy to take Tessa, Keith and me under the main bridge and around the corner past the Castillo (castle). It was built by the Spanish at the narrowest point before the river opens out to the lake (Lago de Izabal) to stop English pirates coming up the river to the lake on raids.
Rio Dulce town was a bustling place, being the crossroads for travelers from a number of directions. It was
busy with lanchas, buses and colours and sounds of those selling goods and pointing travelers in various directions. And so a couple more humans and one frog were added to the chaos...
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