We check into the lovely La Iguana Azul and seek out some food.
We get lured into a tourist trap of a restaurant, but I'm psyched when I see anafres on the menu order - a traditional Honduran meal which is basically a bean and cheese fondue served with tortilla chips.
It comes out quickly, but it's TINY with maybe four chips. I'm choked, but a few minutes later, the same dish arrives at the table, but ten times the size. I didn't realize it was served as a complimentary appetizer and by the end of the second clay pot I want to vomit.
The next day we spend most of the morning checking out the ruins. They're pretty spectacular, we even manage to sneakily join a seniors' tour.
We stop in a comedor for lunch and fill up on delicious cheap pupusas (thick tortilla filled with meat and cheese and served with pickled veggies.) We wander around town and check out a couple museums.
For dinner we stop at another comedor and I enjoy an incredible coconut curry, but poor Mike gets served the rarest burger I've ever seen. When he asks the waitress to have it cooked up, we can hear that familiar 'hummmmm' of a microwave. I don't know how, but he manages to avoid food poisoning.
The next day we forgo the expensive shuttle in favour of the $1 public bus, besides, boarder crossings have been a cake-walk so far.
We begin the cross into Guatemala. A lady with an iPad stops us and asks us a couple simple questions and then stamps our passports. No lineups, no exit/entry fees, no customs form, no x-ray machine, no collection of fingerprints. It doesn't seem right, we've obviously missed a step.
A bus driver approaches us and insists we need to hop on and bus to a neighbouring town.
We are skeptical that he may just drive us to the next part of the boarder. We keep asking where we need to go next and he keeps telling us (in Spanish) there are no other options. We find a guy who speaks English and he confirms that we are officially in Guatemala.
We don't have any Guatemalan currency, so I ask if he'll take American and he says yes.
I only have a ten so I give it to him and he repeatedly tells me it's only $5. I finally manage to explain it's all I have. He says he'll get change in the next town, but comes back and through a lot of hand gestures and slow speaking, manages to explain to me that because the bill is slightly ripped he cannot accept it. I hand him a twenty and hope for the best. Everyone else on the bus glares at us for the hold up.
Once at our destination the driver calls us over to the main depot and the guy working the desk tries to explain that he won't accept the twenty (for whatever reason). This guy has a translator on his phone and after a lot of difficult back and forth, we understand that we can pay with our Honduran lempiras.
He points us in the direction of the bus to Antigua and we hop on the first bus we see. It's a bit of a stressful drive as we pass other vehicles at 90 km/h in a construction zone, atop of a steep cliff.
We're also anxious because we have no idea where we'll get dropped off, plus we still need to get cash and have no idea where to catch our connecting bus.
One of our questions is answered when we roll up to a massive mall and bus station on the outskirts of town. At least it's not the heart of Guatemala City and there seems to be a bank in the complex. We start up the escalator to the cash machine and see our first fellow backpackers in transit in nearly one week! And she's running up the stairs beside us yelling, "Are you guys going to Antigua? We are too! Where does the bus leave from? We can't find anything!"
She (Courtney, a girl from Vancouver) and her companion James had come from Copán as well and were having the same issues as us.
We tell them we'll find them once we hit the bank.
Luckily, they figure out where we need to go and wait to see if we want to split a cab into the city. We have a nice chat on the way to the random, unmarked bus stop and hop on the pimped out, hot red chicken bus with the neon under glow.
We crawl through the thick traffic and our bus driver pulls some ruthless moves while the numerous street vendors hop on and off the bus, touting their wares.
Guatemala City is loud and obnoxious, with smog so heavy that even the locals cover their mouthes and faces. Three adults cram onto a school bus seat meant for two children and then even more cram on.
Finally we make it to Antigua and the guy throws our backpacks off the roof while the driver starts away.
We wander down to our first hostel choice and it's fully booked. We hop on a rickshaw to our second choice and it too is fully booked. It's all feeling very familiar. Frustrated, we wander around before finding two dorm beds in a hostel that doubles as a Spanish school. It's built in this ancient castle-like complex. The rooms are cold and dark, but it's a place to lay our heads.
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| The common area at our first hostel aka my decorating dream |
In the morning we're up early in search of a new hostel. We finally stumble onto A Place to Stay which is equipped with a full kitchen. The owners, Kerry and Jual are friendly and warm and they have a house full of bunnies and cats, including a litter of kittens! AND they have private rooms, although I was sold at kittens...
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| I die every time! |
We wander the town snapping pictures of the beautiful surrounding volcanoes and crumbling cathedrals.
We grab fresh produce and pasta from the market for mere dollars and finally enjoy a homemade meal (not to mention the cuddles of various kittens.)
The next day is the big Mercado Day so Mike and I go in search of souveniers for loved ones. I have my eye on the colourful ceramic sugar skulls with one problem: I'm terrible at haggling.
Mike advises me not to look too interested, to start low and to just walk away if the price isn't right. I can't act disinterested, my face gives me away immediately, so I let Mike do most of the talking and manage to get a good deal.
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| You wish you were cool like me... |
