Planes, trains, automobiles...and buses

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In my mind, our trip only truly began after leaving Puerto Escondido.

As we pulled away from the idyllic beach town and settled into what promised to be a tiresome 20 hours on the bus, I was shocked to find myself grinning from ear to ear.

"It´s good to be on the road again," Chris said next to me as we gazed out the front window at the single-lane highway ahead and watched the countryside drift by. I couldn´t agree with him more. Not to say that the week in Puerto was anything less than absolutely wonderful. Taking a week to unwind in true beach vacation fasion was the perfect way to start this 11 week trek, but I was getting restless. Eager to change scenery and set off on the adventure I had been so looking forward to. The bus rides here have come to symbolize the end of one episode and the beginning of new adventures, experiences, places and people. This is where my journey really starts.

Busting a Move in Latin America

Advice for cheapskate traveller

A few words on travelling the Mexican and Guatemalan bus system in confort, safety and style...

1. Choose your travel level.

There is almost always the option to travel on either a first or second class bus, especially in Mexico. They leave from different stations and it´s usually harder to find the second class terminal as most people direct gringos to the first class terminals. Some things you may have to put up with if are no AC, milk-run routes that stop at every single little town and a higher possibility of bag theft. If you´re careful to pick the right routes (directo is an important word to know) and keep your valuablews with you and invest in some bag locks, you should have no problem taking full advantage of the cheaper prices.

The only times I would advise investing in a first class trip are on the seriously long (15 plus hours) trips where you hope to get at least some decent shuteye. The movies are usually better, there´s lighting for late night reading and the seats are just way more comfy.This is how Chris and I travelled to Tapachula, the last major town on the Mexican coast where we would catch a collectivo to the smaller border town of Hidalgo.

2.Always bring a blanket and a sweater.

Even if it´s 30 degrees outside, the inside of any Mexican bus with AC is always kept at some ridiculous sub-arctic temperature. If you plan on sleeping, or just being remotely comfortable they are essential.

3. Stop at the panaderia before the trip and stock up on local breakfast buns, water and other goodies.

These sweet breads and cookies are the easiest and yummiest source of energy for these trips. Chris swears my the dense, flat almond-flavoured cookies. I´m more of a fan of the big round buns covered in powdered-sugar patterns. Fruits and sandwiches are other good options but take a little more prep (ziplocks, or disinfecting fruit if you eat the skin).

4. Words of warning

Some things I´ve learned the hard way...

Don´t drink a big bottle of Diet Coke or eat a greasy burger with lots of mayo right before a trip. Lots of these buses don´t have bathrooms and don´t stop that often.
If they do, using it takes major skill as the bus is probably veering all over the road. As the Coke or burger force their way out of you, pulling up your pants or leaning over the bowl become quite dangerous activities.

Take a couple of Gravols with you just in case. It doesn´t matter whether you´re taking a Guatemalan chicken bus or first class Mexican charter, the twisty little roads in the middle of the night are enough to make anybody sick.


5. Take in as much as you can.

These bus trips are invaluable opportunities for you to catch of glimpse of things you might otherwise never see.
I, for one, am always entralled with the baggage and packages that some of the locals load onto the bus. On the few transports I´ve taken so far I´ve seen a man with a huge crate of eggs, someone moving two massive television sets and big bags of corn and watermelons being carried around by men who aren´t much bigger than the bags themselves.

If you can do it, my favorite part of these rides is watching the sun rise over the countryside you´ve been travelling through. I usually fall asleep when the movies are done (around 10) and can never seem to stay that way for more than three or four hours at a time. I wake with the first light and am always in awe as the sky is slowly set on fire and the landscape that´s been sailing by in complete blackness is slowly illuminated revealing the rolling hills of dry agave farms, lush green jungles or fields dotted with trees and random livestock.

Border Crossing: The journey to Quetzaltenango

Our only beef with taking a bus directly to Tapachula was that we would be unable to see anything along the Pacific coast of Mexico. We had a tough time trying to find any points of interest in the guide books but we like unchartered territory. As we drifted through coastal Chiapas I realized why there were no tourists here. Everything was farmland. In the wee hours of the morning I could see the farm hands on their way to their respective coffee, cacao, pineapple or mango farms by the dozen.

Tapachula was an obvious trading and wholesale centre for much of this produce. Both Coca-Cola and Pepsi have huge bottling plants here, there are wholesale coffee stores on almost every second corner and you can buy raw cacao and chocolate almost everywhere you look. Getting a good coffee in these places, however, is ridiculously unlikely. There may be fresh beans in abundance, but these people will religiously drink not only instant coffee, but weak instant coffee with powdered whitener and way too much sugar. Kind of makes you think of sweet dishwater. This was what greeted the two of us as we got off the bus.

After we´d fended off the mob of taxi drivers that assail you as you leave every bus station in this part of the world we managed to hop a collectivo that would take us to the small border town of Hidalgo.

The driver of this small van had the heaviest foot I´d ever experienced both on the gas and the breaks. It explained the latin american obsession with speed bumps. They are on every road and meant to slow you down in areas where there are small communities and the possibility of pedestrians. They come in all different shapes and sizes and taking note of them has become somewhat of a hobby to me.

In Hidalgo we followed the signs pointing us towards the Guatemalan border, walked the bridge from one to the other and found ourselves in the sweltering humidity of a bustling Guatemalan town. Our first mission was to find the bus station, which turned out to be a huge, dirty parking lot full of Blue Bird school buses and big sweaty guys bawling out destinations at you.

"Well that´s it," said Chris, "but let´s grab some food first." Food. Right. I hadn´t even thought about it but at the mere mention I realized I was starving. We headed to a little "comedor" up the street and were given two options for daily specials. We both chose the "caldo" which is a greasy version of chicken soup that comes with a drumstick and rice in the broth. It´s served with tortillas, salsa and a lime on the side to squeeze into it. Delicious! Chris also ordered beer. Wonderful thing about latin America is that you can get your beer in two sizes almost anywhere you go, bottle or familiar (litre). We decided to split a litre of the local Guatemalan brew called Gallo. Good stuff, goes down like water but has more flavour than a Corona.

When he ordered the Gallo, however, the waitress gave us the strangest look. "Cerveza?" she asked incredulously. We nodded yes. She smiled, shrugged her shoulders and brought back the bottle with two glasses. The two guys at the table next two us were grinned as they saw it arrive too. We couldn´t figure out what the heck was going on.
"Wait a minute," said Chris "What time is it?" I checked my watch. 9:00am. We had gotten off the bus earlier than we had expected and had been up for long enough that it felt like it was well into the afternoon. We giggled at ourselves and giggled even more when the table next to us decided that we had set a wonderful example and proceeded to order a litre each!

We wandered back to the bus station where we hopped a bus going towards Xela. The real name of the town is Quetzaltenango, but nobody calls it that. Our bags were tied to the roof of the bus and we endured the sticky heat and bumps for about three and a half hours into the mountains.

The bus stopped in about three towns for new pick ups and drop offs as well as shorter stops on the road along the way. At the first town we were able to get off and look around the station (another crowded, smelly, totally unkept parking lot). Small shacks selling pop, all manner of junk food and BBQ stalls lined the sides of the lot. Women tending the grills could turn the weird pieces of meat over with their bare hands. One of things grilling up looked something like a meat braid. When I asked her was it was, she explained that it was porc intestines, told me they were delicious and prompted me to try some. They actually smelled pretty good, but I had to tell her that I had just eaten and pass on it this one time.

As we headed further into the mountains it began to rain. "Wonderful," we thought. "Finally some relief from this heat." Then we remembered where our bags were stowed. The driver seemed to remember at the same moment, stopped the bus, swung them down and packed them inside the bus which was, thankfully, fairly empty.

We travelled through indigenous farming communities where the women are all dressed in the traditional clothing before we were dropped off in Xela next to a shopping mall. I was flabbergasted. What the heck was this doing here. I had to see this monstrosity and Chris desperately needed a real coffee so we ventured inside. They had the equivalent of a Loblaws, a food court with a Taco Bell and even a Payless! And walking through this monument of modernity were indigenous families from the surrounding farms who probably still worked the ground with their hands and sold their produce and hand-woven textiles at the local market. Very surreal.

When we left the mall it was raining again and we decided that this would be one of the few times we would splurge on a cab. We were taken to a hostel near the Parc Americentrale dropped our bags off and were on our way to find some homecooking and grab a movie at a local bar/teahouse.

We picked a restaurant out of the Lonely Planet that was run by a local mother-daughter team. The place was adorable and reminded me of something like a Cafe Esperanza or Moe´s corner snack bar back home. Family run, nothing fancy, plastic table cloths lots of plants and really good home cooked food. You have one option for the day and can get either a full or half portion. The meal was roasted chicken breast in this tomatoey kind of sauce, spiced rice, boiled vegetables like uglifruit (that weird green thing you can find in Chinatown that looks like someone who just ate a whole lemon) yuca, broccoli and potatoes and a soup of greens that we guessed were banana leaves, leeks, and green onions. This was served with a sweetened spice tea, tortillas, home made salsa rojo and bananas for dessert.

After wandering in the rain for an hour, we settled in at the local bar to watch Chasing Amy with popcorn and beer and then tawdled exhausted off to bed.

Next up, more on Xela and the community of Spanish schools, plus our two day trek up the highest peak in Central America.

Till next time.

Much Love.

Vanessa

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