For Those Of You Into Lists...

Check out and provide your own Freebie Five list at The Hollywood North Report. My picks, like I would ever feel the need to use them, are:

5) Eva Mendes
4) Catriona LeMay Doan
3) Beckie Scott
2) Kiera Knightley
1) Salma Hayek

*Honourable Mention: Hilary Swank.

And yours?

Caye Caulker - Rained Out

I had intended on kayaking around the North End of Caulker today, but bad weather has set in. I was actually rained on in bed overnight, the wind bringing rain into my room sideways. So, this is now a travel day, which may result in me being in Mexico by evening.

The water 'taxi' to San Pedro this morning was no taxi at all, with three 200hp engines pushing us along at about 55km/h. So fast, in fact, that the rain stung the face. About a dozen passengers, including me, huddled under tarps as we sped to Ambergris Caye. Water was actually coming right through the tarp due to our speed.

San Pedro, Ambergris Caye, is much busier than Caye Caulker. The first evidence of this is that it actually has cars, where the largest vehicle I saw on Caulker was the John Deere tractor used to deliver sodas and Belikin to restaurants and bars. That said, it is only busy in Belize terms, with Nelson or Revelstoke, BC looking like bustling cities in comparison (even on powder days). People outside are stepping over and sometimes in rain puddles that collect on the sandy street. Locals are bundled up in jackets and full rain gear, while tourists are still sporting the shirt and shorts look.

Reflections on Roatán

I haven't really expanded on Roatán beyond diving options (or, in my case, the lack thereof). So, after spending just over one week there I thought I would give you a quick review of the West End and area.

In general, you don't really feel like you are in Honduras when you are on Roatán. The islands have a mostly English (mostly pirate) history, and are predominantly English-speaking. I was able to watch plenty of Olympic hockey, as games were aligned perfectly with siestas at the hottest parts of the day.

There are now two ATM's in the West End, so you don't need to show up with a fat wallet. The BAC is easy to find, and the second is in Coconut Tree Grocery. Neither are accessible after 9PM.

Best Swimming: In the West End, the double-dock on Half Moon Bay is best (see photo at left). There are also good spots on the beach between West Bay and West End. If you want to swim in West Bay, the beautiful 4km walk takes under an hour. I spent most of my time near the rocks at the far end of the West Bay beach, because it tends to be a bit less crowded with the resort-goers.

Note that the walk to West End (shown here) is not as unsafe as Lonely Planet makes it out to be - I met women who walk it daily for exercise, on their own.

Best Snorkeling: The rocks on the west side of Half Moon Bay in the West End. West Bay is supposedly better, but I saw more types and number of aquatic life in Half Moon Bay. If you are a good swimmer, head beyond the shallows and into deeper water off Lighthouse Point - this is where I saw a turtle and some puffer fish. Keep your eye on the boats, and note that the west side of Lighthouse is quite shallow. Get your gear from Native Sons - for L95, you are in (mostly) new gear for the entire day.

Best Espresso: The restaurant at West End Divers and the one immediately to its right have the best espresso, but the latter is half the price (L30 versus L15). And while you are sipping on cheaper espresso, you can enjoy a much nicer view from the higher patio.

Best Accommodation: Chilli's Place. I stayed at Milka's, and it was a great deal. Still, I could have paid L40 (three bucks) more per night and enjoyed the wood cabins, numerous hammocks, and garden atmosphere at Chilli's. Chilli's shared kitchens are also equipped with more and better kitchen wares, while Milka's was terrible; I could have saved the higher room rate with better cooking options. The rooster factor at Milka's is also a concern, moreso if you sleep lightly.

Best Pub: Sundowners, but it is only open to 10PM. Note that I am not basing my decision on the fact it is Canadian-Owned. After 10, head for the Purple Turtle.

Best Dive Shop: Native Sons. There is a reason why they are so busy. All divers I spoke to raved about them.

Best Beer: Salvavida, although the Port Royal Export label almost reads Port Royal 'EH-Port'.

Into Belize - Barely

I had to use up all of my karma points for this holiday to get to Belize. This i because I went to the airport yesterday and bought a ticket for a Friday, 7AM flight from Roatan to Belize City. Then I proceeded to drink away my Thursday evening, downing vodka-cranberries until the wee hours. I didn't feel too bad, as Andy and Mike (Washington State) were along for the ride, and we agreed to split the cab to the airport the next morning. Cathy was up when I got home, and she and Michael (Vermont) were slated to be up at the same time as me to catch the ferry to La Ceiba.

I went to bed spinning at 3:30AM (we closed every place in the West End), and missed my 5AM alarm. Cathy and Michael missed theirs as well. My eyes opened at 7AM, and I was still kind of inebriated. Defeated, I lay back down for a while, to 'think'.

But I had to get off the island (this was my second day trying) as I would not be able to stand another two or three days in the West End. I vowed to go to the airport and get as far as I could today (likely San Pedro Sula). When I arrived at 7:45, the flight to Belize was still on the ground - classic Carribean time! I raced through customs, and found Mike and Andy stretched across the seating at the departure gate.

The flight - with me on it - left Roatan at 9AM. We landed in Belize City before 11:00AM, right before a connecting flight to Caye Caulker. I made the decision between Glover's Atoll and Caulker at the ticket counter.

So now, here I sit in my beachfront room at the Miramar Hotel (12USD per night), enjoying the sun setting on another beautiful Carribean afternoon. I didn't think I would find a place More laid back than Roatan, but I definitely have. The photo at left is the airport, and everyone here rides fat-tire cruiser bikes. They take their relaxation seriously here.

No Diving for Cam

I put two and two together the moment our prospective instructor handed us the medical checklist for diving. I didn't even have to read the checklist - I knew Pneumothorax would be on there. Sure enough, it was fourth on the list. This killed my hopes for getting my PADI certification here on Roatán, or anywhere for that matter.

A pneumothorax is a collapsed lung. I suffered one about four years ago, when my right lung half-collapsed. Needless to say, the rest of the run that day did not go so well. Actually, in the weeks following, I was unable to climb a flight of stairs in under a minute.

I could find a doctor on the island, and I could get clearance I suppose, but a bit of research on the Internet laid out some very dire consequences of diving with a risk of recurrence. So now, I am sitting across from one of about twenty dive docks, sipping on a coffee, watching boatload after boatload of people cart wetsuits, tanks, and gear across the street and launch into another day's adventures. Diving is what you do here - to such an extent that I can see four buoys, each marking a world-class dive site not 250m offshore.

On the bright side, snorkeling here is just as good. I was out this morning to swim (and salt water buoyancy makes you feel like the Thorpedo), and I saw hundreds of fish, and even a couple of squid. I am also going to meet up with Sofie from Denmark, who I met on the San Pedro hike. She has quite a fear of fish, so there is at least one more person on the island who isn't diving.

Antigua - Stalled

A late start in Antigua combined with some terrible advice from a bus driver on a bus station that did not exist has resulted in me spending another night in Antigua. As a result, I have scrapped my plans for El Salvador. But, I need to get out of Antigua - it has enough tourist comforts to make you stay, but does not have anything worth staying more than three days for.

I decided that the best move would be to get out of the Guatemala highlands and back to the Caribbean coast as soon as possible. I booked myself on a 4AM shuttle bus to the Guat-Honduras border, with a connecting bus to the Caribbean coastal city of La Ceiba, Honduras. 14 hours and three buses later, I have arrived.

Night was falling once I arrived, and I missed my prospective hotel by a block. I stopped and asked for directions, and this is when I met William, who turned into my unsolicited guide for the next 24 hours. As I camped in my room decompressing from the long trip, William decided to stop by the lobby twice, and ask for me. At one point he asked to stay with me in my room (not in the friendly way, mind you). I had the pleasure of meeting up with him this morning while running errands, and he 'showed' me the city. I left him in the hotel lobby again, but not before contributing 40 lempira ($3CDN) to his new shoes fund.

The Honduran currency is lempira, which runs at 18.5 to the US dollar. This makes banking particularly hard - I hesitate to put 2,000 of anything in my wallet. This money will not go far in Roatán, where I am headed today. Roatán goods are double the price on the mainland. Most backpackers head to Utila because it is cheaper to get there and stay there, but I have a chance to share costs on Roatán with the Danish women I climbed San Pedro with.

The Honduras Bay Islands lie close to the second longest barrier reef on the planet. They also boast some of the best and cheapest scuba diving on the planet, with 2-dive afternoons costing just under $40CDN, and dive certifications (including 6 dives) for just over $250CDN. I am looking forward to completing my scuba diving certification there - sure beats the Okanagan Lake version. Also, I am really keen on getting some swimming in, so my timing for Roatán could not be better.

Antigua, the Return

The shuttle back from Monterrico was 20q more than the ride down, and took less than half the time. I am staying at Jungle Party Hostel, but it seems a bit of a rip-off, with no kitchen and some odd rules for 60q per night. There are no less than ten Canadians here tonight, all from BC.

I am hoping to finalise my trip to Tacuba, El Salvador today, which is made difficult by my wanting to skip Guatemala City entirely.

Monterrico - Pacific Coast

The chicken bus ride to Monterrico was epic, but 3 chicken buses, a passenger ferry, 5.5 hours, and 30 quetzals later I was on the Pacific Coast. Getting there was the reward - dark sand beaches, warm Pacific water, a laid-back feel, and good people awaited. I made two quick friends right off the bus, and was in the water within 30 minutes.

After sunset, everyone camped out at Johnny's Place - the place in Monterrico. The appeal is huge, as Johnny's has hammocks to swing in, a beachside bar, and a come-and-go-when-you-please approach to both clients and non-clients.


The mangrove tour the next morning was another early- morning test, starting at 5:30AM. The mangroves were filled with birds, a four-eyed species of fish that skips across the water rather than swims, and amazing foliage, and we enjoyed a remarkable view of the volcanos at Antigua during the sunrise. I was hoping to see a bit more varied wildlife, like caiman (small corcodile) and turtles, but there numbers are few. I did stroll through the Tortugaria, a local refuge for freshwater and saltwater turtles, iguanas, and caiman to compensate (8q).

The day was spent almost exclusively at Johnny's, with a brother-sister duo from BC. Mark is a park ranger / planting supervisor somewhat stationed in the Slocan area, and Nicole works for a student union (Langara, maybe) in Vancouver. Evidence that it is a small world: Mark went on a Neil Young-inspired road trip with Kevin Chong, who turned it into the book Neil Young Nation, who had my sister as an editor. Pam's copy of the book, with a note of thanks from Mark's friend Kevin, sits half-read on my bedside table.

Shuttle Drivers

For the most part, shuttle vans are a very fast, safe, and cost-effective way to travel in Guatemala. They are often targeted at night (as some assume more wealthy people take shuttle vans), but are generally fine during the day. They are also everywhere, and go just about everywhere to boot.

However, if you are travelling to Antigua from Panajachel, do
NOT take the 4PM shuttle if the driver is very tall, somewhat skinny, and has short, spiky hair. I have never driven with such a dangerous driver, with so little regard for himself, his passengers, or others on the road. He drives an older, red passenger van, which we learned (the hard way) had no power for passing other cars and buses in the face of oncoming traffic. Despite the language barriers, all passengers managed to convey their disgust at his driving to the travel agency once we arrived in Antigua.

Volcán San Pedro

I spent another night not sleeping for fear of sleeping through my alarm. This hike left at 6AM, and was about the same elevation gain as Santa Maria. It was nice to walk right from town - only 100m from the dock - up through the town's cobblestone streets. Four of us were guided up the hike by Manuel: two Danish women, a Scot, and myself. Before long, the streets gave way to dirt roads, and the dirt roads to paths weaving through small homesteads.

Volcán San Pedro itself is quite a large park, and the trailhead began at a very new interpretive centre about 1km from town. The park protects the cloud forest that covers the slopes of San Pedro, and the difference between Santa Maria and San Pedro is quickly apparent in the volume and diversity of foliage. Stepping off the trail would result in your feet being consumed by the lush ground. Some slopes have coffee and corn farms that were grandfathered when the park was created, and they are sustainably run.

The hike turned out to be just as long as Santa Maria, and I was at the summit around 9AM. The view was not as spectacular as Santa Maria's (trees cover most of the top of San Pedro), but the view down to the lake and back to Santa Maria were enough for me.

From atop the summit, the geography of Atitlán is amazing to behold. The lake - 18km at its widest - sits in the bottom of a huge collapsed caldera. The rim of the caldera is almost 500m higher than the lake level, and the caldera is another 1.3km deep when you include the depth of the lake. Other volcano summits, including those that surround Antigua, can be seen to the North and South of San Pedro.

I had to hustle half of the descent, because I had stashed my bag at the guide office and it was closing at 1:30. One of the Danish women was having trouble on the way down, but we had enough time to exchange email addresses so we could possibly hook up in Honduras. I picked up the bag with enough time for a final swim in Lago de Atitlán, before catching the return boat back to Panajachel and an afternoon shuttle to Antigua.

Lago de Atitlán - Panajachel and San Pedro

I am presently recovering from the classic traveller's stomach bug here in San Pedro. Yesterday was a write-off, more or less, despite walking over to the Panajachel Nature Reserve. The 1.5km walk is a scorcher at mid-day, feeling just like the walk out to Paul's Tomb on Knox Mountain.

The 45 quetzal entry got me in to see the reserve's main attraction - a group of about 8 endangered spider monkeys. There are a few other animals and a butterfly hatchery, but the place is geared to the monos.

Panajachel itself is full of hippie ex-pats, which allows the town to live up to its nickname of Gringotenango. I was able to have an espresso and watch some of the Superbowl at a pub here. Most people who come to Atitlán get through Pana as fast as possible, and now I know why. Because I was under the weather, I opted for two nights here. Later the next morning I jumped on a lancha to get to San Pedro, and have already scheduled the second volcano hike. Here's hoping I am sufficiently recovered to go.

The Chicken Bus

I am no longer a chicken bus virgin, as I had my first trip on one today.

What is a chicken bus, you ask? Well, the first thing you need to know is that Guatemala is where old US and CDN school buses go when they die. And trust me, they go to heaven! Just look:

Before

After

I broke some common-sense chicken bus guidelines on my first trip. The first was not having a bag small enough that you could take on the bus with you. The second was not removing all (any, actually) items from the bag before it was placed on the roof. To compensate, I watched the loading and unloading of passengers and goods like a hawk. I concluded that the chicken bus is transportation's version of poetry in motion, with the bus barely stopping when picking up passengers, and the baggage and luggage handler securing loads to the roof rack while the bus carrens down the winding Guatemalan highway. When finished, the baggage guy climbs down one of two ladders on the back of the bus, enters through the rear emergency exit, and then recalls who's paid and who's not and collects back to front.

The 2.5 hour bus ride to Panajachel cost me 20 quetzals - about $3CDN. These incredibly low rates are entirely based on cheap labour - the driver I chatted with from the border to Xela described his 12-14 hour day for which he is paid just under $10CDN. Everything here is inexpensive - I just booked into a hotel with hot showers here in Pana for 50 quetzals, which is under $8CDN.

I have no photo of my first chicken bus, because my camera was securely (and safely, it turned out) strapped to the roof of the bus.

Volcán Santa Maria

Shaun has a cold, and his resulting snoring helped keep me up most of the night. The balance of the sleeplessness was fearing sleeping through the 5AM alarm I set, because Chilli Tours was picking us up at 5:30 to start the hike by 6AM.

Xela sits at 2335m above sea level, and the summit of Santa Maria is 3770m. The relentless, increasingly difficult hike to the top took only 2 hours and 45 minutes. All claims that Ben and I had to mountaineering macho were dashed when we ended up just barely keeping ahead of a group of Mayan women and girls en route to the summit as well. The difference was, these women were completing the same ascent in full-length dresses and open-heeled shoes. Santa Maria is a sacred place to the locals, and they often ascend early in the morning to pray and sometimes offer sacrifices.

We started under and ascended through cloud, but the skies cleared by the time we reached the summit. Once on top, we quickly found a seat to the West of the summit, overlooking another active volcano nearby. 1,000 metres higher, Santa Maria afforded a good view of the active crater, which lets off a blast once or twice per hour. We could make out the volcanoes surrounding Atitlán to the South. While I would not have said so at the top, I get the feeling that hiking one of them is the next to-do on my list.

Quetzaltenango, Guatemala

When I first got to Quetzaltenango (Xela), I wasn't very impressed with it. A mist that often rolls in from the Pacific obscures the view of the surrounding hillsides and Volcán Santa Maria. The town itself is dusty, polluted, and very much broken down - definitely a step down from México, whose political stability and resource wealth separates it from its neighbour to the South. To put it in context, Guatemala is still reeling from decades of violence, despite 2006 being the tenth anniversary of the country's peace accord. Those I have spoken to confirm continued widespread corruption and violence in Guatemala today.

So, when I got here , I really didn't like it much. I am going to chalk this up to a long travel day, because after a full day Xela is growing on me. The locals are very friendly and helpful, and are very patient with my broken Spanish. The tight and chaotic streets and markets are flush with colour during the day, and the place is packed with international travellers taking advantage of Xela's exceptional(ly cheap) Spanish language schools.

Despite the better impression, I still won't stay here long. It is hard to breathe here. Most cars and trucks, and all but a select few buses exhale plumes of smoke in shades of black and blue. Those that burn cleanly kick up an immense amount of dust as they rumble by on the cobblestone streets.

I missed the 3-day hike from Xela to Lago de Atitlán by an hour. The silver lining to this was that eleven others were booked on the hike. Instead, I pulled together a tour to Fuentes Georginas, a natural spring just outside of Xela. Seeing as the city was without running water this morning (water system upgrades have meant some week-long droughts for the city), the springs were a great addition to the day. We booked a hike up Volcán Santa Maria the next morning with ChilliTours - the same company that took us to the springs. We should be down be 1PM, which provides enough time for me to get to Panajachel before nightfall tomorrow.

Sumidero Canyon

I missed the guided trip to Sumidero Canyon because I did not book the day before. However, an employee at the hostel gave me the directions for getting there. I walked down to the highway to catch a colectivo, which is a passenger van that goes whenever it fills. I then got dropped an hour later at Cahuare, and walked the 500m down to the dock. This cost me 35 pesos.

I waited on the dock for about an hour, until the colectivo boat was also full. 95 pesos got me a tour of the 5+ kilometre-long canyon, with limestone walls towering over one kilometre above the water line. Monkeys, herons, and an alligator were the extent of the wildlife, but I was most taken by the canyon walls. Sumidero is definitely a hotspot on the Mexican climbing scene, and there are even some deep water soloing opportunities here - if you don't mind alligators, that is.

I chatted up a guide while we were waiting on the dock, and I managed to catch a ride back with him and two Australians on a full tour of the region. In exchange, I paid the highway toll and acted as translator as the guide explained some of the culture and practices of the Chiapas Mayans. Back in San Cristobal, I arranged my passage to Guatemala the next day, and hooked into a bunch of people going for drinks at one of the reggae bars in town.

So, my last post from San Cristobal - incomplete without an obligatory cathedral photo.

Crossing the Border into Guatemala

The plains of Mexico gave way to steep mountainsides right at the Guatemalan border, the geography reflecting the move from North to Central America. I have exited Mexico before on the US side, and it was nothing like this! Imagine a tight, steep, two lane alleyway filled with travellers, money exchangers, three-wheeled taxis, shuttlebuses, and fruit and craft stalls - this was my first taste of Guatemala. In all the commotion, me and my fellow travellers needed to find our way out of Mexican immigration, across the border, through the hallway that was Guatemala Immigration, and onto a second shuttle awaiting on the other side. Despite the inconsistent guidance and general commotion, it was a great experience; there is a satisfaction in crossing borders on foot.

So this is my first time off the continent since my Students Abroad tour over twenty years ago. Granted, I like my continent, and it's big, and there are plenty of places I haven't seen yet (like all of Québec, save Hull). Still, I wouldn't trade the experience of entering and driving into Quetzaltenango (or Xela) for anything. I sat up front with the driver of the Toyota shuttle van, working on my Spanish and taking in the scenery. I have been forcing myself to strike up conversation with the locals, and this has been invaluable. This experience really helped when the busload of other travellers - all destined for Spanish language schools in Guatemala - turned to me to get them all through the border!

All but two of the passengers were bound for Xela, a dusty city about the size of Kelowna, renowned for its cheap but effective Spanish schools. $125USD gets you twenty hours of one-on-one conversation coaching as well as one week of homestay. I hooked up with two of them - Laura (UK) and Shaun (NZ) to find a place to crash after the long day. It took some doing (Xela is currently overrun by Dutch people looking to learn Spanish), but we found a basic room for about $6CDN each, and then headed for an authentic Mayan dinner. Naturally, beers at the very cool, very European Salón Tecún followed.

San Cristóbal de las Casas

I was up far too early this morning in Palenque, trying to figure out if what I was hearing were weary roosters or their drunken imitators headinghome after a night out. It was 5AM, but I stayed in bed until about 6, at which point I got my stuff together and headed for the bus to San Cristóbal de las Casas.

The bus rides provided amazing views as we wove through mountain passes above 2300 metres. At one crest, the dense foliage broke into grasslands and pine - a sure sign of the Pacific rainshadow that stretches from the Okanagan to here. I remember Derek and I drove through the same on our way down to Colima way back when.

San Cristóbal itself is a city of about 130,000 people sitting in the high sierra. The town has a very colonial feel, despite being the centre of both Mayan and Zapatista resistance movements against the powers that be. Extending fiveblocks in either direction from the plaza is another cobblestone pedestrian walkway, filled with coffee shops, restaurants, and general knick-knacks. All other streets are cobblestone as well. The daily market at the top of town is a vegetarian heaven, and a Mayan market spills onto the street just above the plaza. One notable stall is the one selling various Zapatista items.

The backpackers hostel is nice, if noisy. If you like the hostel nightlife, you'd like it. Two British guys - one named Felix - displayed their talents by drinking 4 litres of beer each and leaving the kitchen an absolute mess. The place is definitely well-equipped (internet is free), but a cold night's sleep left me disappointed when they didn't deliver on the hot showers they advertised. Still, at 50 pesos per night, I am not compaining. The cats are nice too.

I just downed another very weak coffee - four days in a row now - and this was even from a local roastery. The streak continues. Off to Cañon del Sumidero today - another post and photos (finally tracked down a cord) to follow.

On The Bright Side...

As I slept on the bus to Palenque, someone tried to relieve me of a few valuables. They cut a small hole in the bottom of my carry-on while I was sound asleep with it in my lap, but all they encountered was a water bottle and my breakfast. Another traveler had her camera stolen, and a young Mexican girl (maybe 14) had belongings stolen as well. On the bright side, this is the precise reason I packed duct tape, and it is now shoring up my leaky pack.

Some travel tips for those moving around by bus in Mexico:

1) Daytime or awake-time buses only;
2) If you are breaking #1, place valuables in checked baggage, where it is checked at the bus. ADO (the primary 1st class bus service) generally has it together when it comes to securing luggage;
3) Carry duct tape!

More disappointing than the hole in my bag was my arrival in Palenque. If you are coming out this way, El Panchán, within walking distance of the ruins, is a better bet. Pälenque is a city built on shuttling people to and from the nearby ruins and waterfalls. I arrived too late to do the complete tour, so I opted for the falls tour leaving at noon.

The first stop was Misol-Ha, 35m in height with a beautiful pool and a jungle setting. Not too bad for my first taste of the jungle.

As we wound through the mountainous, dense jungle, we passed a sign reading 'You are now entering Zapatista Territory...'; although the days of highway banditry in the area are long since past, the push for indigenous title and autonomy still persists.

The next stop was three hours in Agua Azul, which came complete with a bunch of RV'ers and a community of about 500 people. The falls themselves are incredible, carving hundreds of pools into the limestone underneath. I headed up the stone walkway until it became a path, and about 1/2 a kilometre later found a pool to myself.

Our tour driver Victor drove the Ford shuttle van to the pools like a saint, but the same could not be said for the return trip. I think he was trying to make up the time he lost, as we waited with some passengers for a connecting southbound bus to San Cristobal. I noted that he made a bit on the side, charging the six getting on the bus 110 pesos each before the bus arrived, but paying the bus driver 70 once the passengers had boarded. I just wish he would have spread the love!

Onto San Cristóbal tomorrow, where I hope to pass a day or two before heading into Guatemala.