The Last Day Before a Change

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Most of my Central American trip has not been in too much of a hurry. But at this point, time was ticking. I needed to be in Antigua Guatemala by Monday at the latest to meet up with my sister and since Antigua is one of the tourist hotspots it was a perfect setting to get pissed whilst watching a Sunday Super bowl with a bunch of American tourists.



I managed to stay on the beach in El Salvador until the maximum time not because it was anything too spectacular but because a beach is better than staying in an old colonial city I figured. My lack of scheduling in advance meant I was too late to book the convenient tourist bus that linked El Tunco and Antigua – a 5 hour bus ride leaving at 3pm. Instead I had to go local with my hangover from the previous night, finished only hours earlier.



Most tourist buses are a bit expensive but some are reasonably priced and this one is probably one of the cheaper options for what you get. This is the transport that most tourists take when travelling Central America. This is why people say that travelling Central America is so easy. They don’t do what I had to do to get to Antigua.



No-one advised me to go along the coast and the schedule seemed no good. So instead I had to catch a chicken bus to a small town, take my backpack off. Wait for the next bus to take me to San Salvador. We are in the outskirts of the capital I ask a guy “Esta es Terminar” He says “Si” This could have been interpreted as “Is this your stop?” For him it was. Everyone is getting off so in my hangover state I join most of the bus with my bags. It drives off and I see people are still travelling on it. I look around and who knows where I am.



I than walk thinking I am close, turn right where the bus turned and I am up on a small hill that looks over San Salvador in the distance - A bunch of white specks. Eventually after taxis are not interested I hail down another bus to take me to the middle. I then get told to get off once in the city to catch another bus to get me to the international terminal.



I get on that bus all the while dragging my pack through the aisles of the now mini buses. The ticket guy forgets to tell me to get off at the right stop and through my little knowledge of the place I realise I am in the historic centre, 10 blocks away. So back goes the backpack on my back, the daypack on the front and I sweat it out to the station. Saturday’s have fewer buses than normal and I am told that I won’t be leaving until 4pm. A nightmare started to build up in my head. I was about to arrive in Guatemala City at 930pm at the earliest.



Guatemala City is renown across the backpacker world especially to Latin American travellers as the ‘no go zone’. If you’ve heard about someone getting robbed, a bag being stolen than high chance it was in this city.



The capital of Guatemala, at night it lights up in a dark valley and looks okay. The roads seem modern enough and there is a lot of westernised shopping complexes. A new tram service called transmetro was around so I was surprised at first. Virtually no one was on the streets so that meant it must be unsafe. A taxi waited at the bus stop and everything was smooth.



Next door to the guesthouse I stayed in was a place I could eat. Whilst waiting a guy came up to me which was a clear cut drug addict. Turns out he is local and lives next door. In fact most people next door seemed to be rehabilitating by still perusing their addiction.



In the morning one guy had a large sweatband covering his inner arm at his elbow joint. He’d make weird noises in the morning as he cleaned up leaves with a broom. And when he stretched out he’d go “Ooo!” Hotel Pension Meza was the place where Che Guevara once stayed. It’s a relic. Just before I went to bed the guy that I spoke to knocked on the door knowing I was leaving early. “Oh can you spare me a 5 I’ll pay you back tomorrow!” “No” I say in my underwear and back to bed.



I walked around town in the morning but just headed to Central Park, which had a nice atmosphere. The main square has some nice architecture. Like the bibloteca’s outrageous frontage and the Palacio Nacional a green building known as El Guacamole to locals.



Antigua is only an hour away along a death defying chicken bus ride. It was now 11am when I arrived, 15 hours after I could have with the tourist service but hey I saved $10 and saw an extra city. But this is the thing that concerns me. These stuff ups can happen when it’s just me and I can take it on the chin, get the shits for a moment and move on. But my travels were about to change.



My sister and her fiancée are about to arrive. They have no Spanish so I am the one who needs to get things right from A-B, to order the right meal. One thing that most journeys have not had is responsibility. I’ve taken responsibility to myself but I’d say that has been a half-arsed effort.



With one night left of irresponsibility I headed to Mono Loco bar the American sports bar to watch the Super bowl. I positioned myself at the last seat available on the bar and got myself a 1-litre beer to get me through the 1^st quarter. I’ve never seen the American coverage before so when the first commercial came on I half looked at the TV and half looked at the people watching it. Dead silence as the platinum blue bottle of Bud Light was being advertised. I was the only eyes that was not glued to the set. The next commercial got a comment and from the split second of noise it was back to silence. The game came back on and talk began again in the bar.



The beer was terrible but I still managed to get 3 litres in me and call it a night. On my last night I got myself a private room with an on-suite with no door. That bathroom was connected to the other bathrooms for the dorms by a tiny slit allowing the steam to escape.



At around 430am some guy had too much to drink and vomited for a good 20 minutes, including the spit and dry reach. I couldn’t sleep from there on so I go outside my room to go on the internet. It’s around 530am and probably the same guy comes crashing along the corridor and tries to hold in whilst his hands were covering his mouth. The force was too much and he vomits on the floor through his split fingers.



The night guy wakes up on his hammock and gets the map out. No bucket of water with detergent with this guy. Instead he spreads the vomit along the floor until it dissolves into the towel mop and crevasses of the tiles. I was glad to have moved on.



I moved to a quitter hostel to meet up with my sister and fiancée – That’s right the people who have featured in JP2, 4 and 5 (3times in JP5) are back but this time not as boyfriend and girlfriend. Eleni briefly showed me her new rock and it was time to catch up.



Antigua is a real nice first up city for them. During the day time there are police on nearly every corner so it feels safe. It’s clean and enough options food wise. The main social area for locals and tourists is around Parque Central where it is a good starting point to begin the open air architectural city.



Antigua was the capital of Guatemala from 1541. It is covered in old colonial buildings that show the riches this place once possessed. An earthquake in 1773 destroyed the city and meant the capital moved to Guatemala City.



There are a few things to see and do here apart from walking around the cobblestone streets. A viewpoint looks over the city, about a 10 minute slow walk to the top and provides a view below of the city with the towering Volcan Agua, Acatenango and Fuego in the background.



A half-day trip can take you to Volcan Pacaya, which is probably a 3/10 volcano experience for me. A recent explosion meant that you couldn’t walk to the top of the volcano so after hiking for an hour you stop where steam comes out and the guide brings out marshmallows to cook and eat. It was nothing too special.



We had a few different itineraries to choose from and diving took priority and on the way toward the coast is a place called Copan. An ancient Mayan civilisation just across the border in Honduras. We headed there and took the tourist bus that takes you all the way through. On this bus there were two single females and it clicked to me as the only other two single males teamed up with them for the night. Oh man I’ve been doing this all wrong. I’ve been slugging it out with the locals on chicken buses when the whole time I should have been catching the chauffeur version and hooked up with a travelling girl. Obviously it’s not that easy, but the least I could have done was give myself a shot!

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