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Bienvenidos a El Salvador! – Crossing the El Poy border, Suchitoto and Santa Ana

Painting of the Vista de Lago hostel and lake Suchitlan

Painting of the Vista al Lago hostel and lake Suchitlan

Whilst Ollie was spending her time bobbing around with the turtles and the trumpet fish on Roatán, I found myself with quite a lot of spare time.  I decided to plan our trip through El Salvador, including the public transport options.  The buses are all numbered chicken buses and seemed to run on a pretty reliable and cheap network.  So we set off to get a bus from Copán in Honduras to Suchitoto in El Salvador.  As the crow flies, this is not a long way.

For just the full photo gallery, click here.

We started our journey on a 7am and after two cold bus rides through the moody Honduran landscape we found ourselves at the El Poy border.  An uninterested Honduran official stamped us out with not so much as a grunt, we changed some money to US$ (as that is the currency of El Salvador since 2000), wandered through an army of stationary trucks (that we later found out were blocking the borders to vehicle traffic in protest at a new tax) and were then met by a small El Salvadoran official who greeted us warmly and welcomed us to his country.  He showed us the way to the immigration office where we were met with another friendly official who took time to find out where we were going and told us to take off our fleeces as it was warm in his country.  Already, we felt welcome in El Salvador.

Bienvenidos a El Salvador

Bienvenidos a El Salvador

Walking through the peaceful border we hopped on a #119 bus which chugged along for around 2.5 hours through the handsome town of La Palma and some other red tiled roofed communities stashed in the north of this hilly little country.  We were soon off this bus and standing by a strange road in Aguilares, with no sign of the bus I knew we needed.  We asked many people, including the child vendor Ollie nearly gutted with her pack dismounting the last bus, where the next one would stop.  They all told us to wait where we were.  The bus didn’t come so after 40 long minutes and after many hopeful cigarettes smoked (the theory being when you light a cigarette, your bus always comes) we followed another local’s advice who directed us through the heaving market.  Packs getting heavier in the heat of the sun and the desire for a cold beer and a solid recline growing by the minute, the goal seemed out of reach. We finally found the #163 sitting there tucked away one block away, after we had of course done a lap of the market.

Iglesia Santa Lucia over Park Centenario

Iglesia Santa Lucia over Park Centenario

Suchitoto, our first overnight stop, was accessed by a pleasant 50 minute bus ride away from the chaos of Aguilares, west-bound through the peaceful countryside framed by the sun-kissed peaks of long extinct volcanos and hills.  Arriving at about 5:30pm we were greeted by a colourful cobbled street colonial hideaway that overlooks a large manmade reservoir, Lake Suchitlán.  We headed for our desired lodgings, Hostel Vista al Lago, which does indeed have a view of the lake.  They were out of rooms, but the mother of the family-run hostel offered us her emergency room (a cupboard with a bed) for the night until a better option became available.  Arrested by the stunning view of the sun setting over the mountains and the lake we happily agreed and tucked into a few bottles of the local brew called ‘Pilsner’ which tastes fine when ice cold and having done a 11 hour bus epic.

Our first view of Lake Suchitlan, El Salvador

Our first view of Lake Suchitlan, El Salvador

This town, combined with the view from our room that we finally got, was the perfect combination for rest and relaxation.  It’s an easy going place, and feels like it is El Salvador’s push for colonial town tourism.  Except, there were not many foreign sightseers around.  A few pasty Americans, who I assumed were on some kind of church/mission trip, were really the only tourists we saw.

Cobbled streets of Suchitoto

Cobbled streets of Suchitoto

Bright colours of Suchitoto

Bright colours of Suchitoto

We took a walk down to the quaint little tourism port of San Juan one morning, where they have a selection of restaurants, full of El Salvadoran families, and spent the rest of our time in the town just admiring the colours and taking in the tranquility the place seemed to ooze.  A solid local market kept us in bananas and avocados and the town had a few excellent options for coffee so, we were set for three days…which turned into four.  We spent one night out with an Aussie couple, Josh and Anna, who we swapped stories with over pupusas and tinnies in the town square, but the remainder of time was spent outside our room overlooking the captivating lake below us.  We were going to visit a nearby waterfall, but it was the dry season, so it was not…erm, falling.

Puerto San Juan

Puerto San Juan

Lake Suchitlan pose

Lake Suchitlan pose

Lanchas for hire on Lake Suchitlan

Lanchas for hire on Lake Suchitlan

Zip line from main land to island

Zip line from main land to island

Pupusas are our favorite new thing.  They are El Salvador’s way to serve beans and cheese, but instead of using the corn to make tortillas, the pack the ingredients inside the corn dough and then grill it, resulting in a cheesy, beany dough pocket, which you cover with chili sauce and pickled veg.  We were dressing them like a pizza and eating them with cutlery until we observed locals eating with fingers and dipping/scooping their way through meals.  At less than $1 a go, they are a fine backpacker snack.

Not the traditional way to dress a Pupusa, but, it looks pretty

Not the traditional way to dress a Pupusa, but, it looks pretty

The Pupusa lady, she was awesome

The Pupusa lady, she was awesome

This town is beautiful and you can really slow down here.   I would go as far as to say my favorite stop so far on our whole trip. For our first experience in El Salvador, we certainly felt spoiled and had high expectations of the rest of the country.

Quiet colonial charm

Our view at Hostel Vista de Lago.  We got a better one the next day!

Our view at Hostel Vista de Lago. We got a better one the next day!

Anti Domestic violence stencils are outside most houses in Suchitoto

Anti Domestic violence stencils are outside most houses in Suchitoto

Santa Lucia at dusk

Santa Lucia at dusk

The day came to leave and we reluctantly jumped on a bus back to Aguilares, to continue the journey cross country to Santa Ana, El Salvador’s second city.  It’s probably about 40km to the west of Suchitoto and I planned a route across country on three local buses to save time.  Let me just say, I was not completely wrong, but one of the buses only goes once a day, so this journey turned into four buses over six hours.  (If you’re planning this trip, just go to San Salvador and back up, faster and cheaper.)

Santa Ana, El Salvador

Santa Ana, El Salvador

Eventually arriving in Santa Ana we were dropped off in the extreme south of the city, with no cabs in sight so started walking in the rough direction we thought we needed to go, until we were stopped by a local in his car advising us about walking a in a certain direction.  He conceded we had to keep walking that way, but make sure we don’t stop.  A busy local market scene confronted us with everything you can think of on sale, with all of the foul smells and soft underfoot feel to boot.

Casa Verde doesn’t have a sign, it’s just a green house, in a road full of different coloured houses.  We walk into this gringo compound and are confronted by a group of middle aged Europeans in their pants eating watermelon and drinking red wine.  It was a confusing moment to say the least and a bit of a contrast from the grubby streets of Santa Ana.  However, the local owner, Carlos apologised for his lack of rooms (no apology needed!) and showed us to our dorm beds, whilst giving us a tour of his bachelor pad that any lad could only dream of.  Along with the (clean) pool he had two incredible kitchens, free coffee for guests that you had to grind yourself, as well as a wine cellar and cheap frosty beer (it was Pilsner, but hey).  I could go on, but just look at the Trip Advisor.

Street of Santa Ana

Street of Santa Ana

We had some drinks with other guests while the older German lady moaned about the Finnish (we think they were Czech) who were using the kitchens at all times in their pants without the decency to have a nice body.  Up on the roof terrace at night, the city is dead.  No sound at all from the second largest city of El Salvador gives a slightly eerie feeling, yet the endless vista of red tiled roofs under the moonlight with the cathedral poking out above all is a pretty special sight.

The next day, we ventured out to explore the town centre, and after quite possibly the cheapest breakfast ever of five pupusas for $1.30 at the side of one of the city squares (the trade-off being however that you must eat with about 30 El Salvadorans gawping at you throughout the entire meal) we checked out the neo-gothic cathedral as well as the sprawling central market that sells quite literally anything you could need.  The city is hot, possibly too hot for us, so we retreated to the hostel to cool down.

Parque Mendez, Santa Ana.  Great spot for Pupusa breakfast

Parque Mendez, Santa Ana. Great spot for Pupusa breakfast

What, no gun? In the government offices? Outrage!!

What, no gun? In the government offices? Outrage!!

Parque Libertad Santa Ana

Parque Libertad Santa Ana

Inside the Alcaldia, Santa Ana

Inside the Alcaldia, Santa Ana

Catedral Santa Ana

Catedral Santa Ana

Since crossing the border we have been amazed by the friendly nature of the El Salvadoran people.  Of course the children stare at you like you have come from Mars some times, but everyone is incredibly friendly and most will greet you when you catch their eyes, in the places we have been anyway.  Stark contrast from Honduras, our experience crossing the border is a perfect example of the two countries attitudes towards tourism.  Despite being classed officially as one of the world’s top five most murderous countries, we have felt nothing but safe so far.  There is an excellent tourist police visible and willing to help, as well as (so we’re told) one of the most effective and corruption free police force in the Americas.  I just hope this great experience keeps up and so far hasn’t been a fluke.  The El Salvadorans we have met want to help us, even when they have told us the wrong information about buses I get the feeling they are not being devious, they just wanted to assist in any way they can.

Thanks for reading.

For the full photo gallery, click here.


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San Cristóbal de las Casas – A chilly adios to Mexico and crossing the border into Guatemala at Ciudad Cuauhtemoc

The night bus is not one of my favorite activities.  This one, from Oaxaca to San Cristobal de las Casas, is 10 hours and snakes around cliffs on tiny narrow roads.  Narrowly avoiding oncoming traffic, we see bible passage quotations painted on the rocks at each treacherous turn.  We have the front seats.  We can see our narrow escapes accompanied by the various soundtracks courtesy of the drivers.  The first being hard euro dance and the latter having a more authentic mariachi feel.  Eventually, we arrive in San Cristobal.  A small mountain town 2000m up.  The sun is out and we decide to walk to our hostel and to our surprise, we both agree that this is one of the most picturesque scenes we have ever come across.  The mountains that poke through the clouds frame the streets of multi-coloured red tiled houses.  We find ourselves in the main square, and, overcome by the smell of fresh roasted coffee, we are tempted and sit to let the day begin around us.

EZLN still knocking about

View from Iglesia

Belisario Dominguez

Gimme the all the pics!

San Cristobal was only on our list of destinations as a jump off point for Guatemala, and originally planned to not stay in the town and just leave on the next bus south.  We then decided to stay for two nights.  We stayed for five days in the end.  Arriving at the charming hostel ‘Casa El Abuelito’, we were greeted by tranquil courtyard populated mainly by the French.  This really did feel like we had somehow found our way into the Alps.  We relaxed with more coffee for a few hours and after a quick nap went out to explore the town.  Wandering through the streets, we immediately began to relax and found ourselves at a local bar and listened to a busker play until it started to rain.  We decided to treat ourselves, after a month of eating from the street and had some steak and wine at the Argentinian steak house.  It was awesome!  Wandering home in the drizzle we felt quite content.  We booked an extra night when we returned.

Casa El Abuelito Courtyard

Casa El Abuelito Courtyard

The following days were similarly spent, just walking around and taking stock of our month so far in Mexico.  The town has obviously seen some money recently, with boutique shops along the main drag, mainly peddling the local specialty that is Amber.  Not only backpackers swarm here, there are all sorts of tourists who are mainly European.

A night of fine Argentinian Steak

Guitar on Real de Guadalupe

Diego Dougley at night

There is darker side to this little bastion of calm.  The town is surrounded by a poverty-stricken area known colourfully as ‘the belt of misery’.  The occupants of this violent area are mainly ex-inhabitants of nearby Tzotzil villages, such as San Juan Chamula.  Reasons for expulsion are mainly due to politico-religious tensions as the Chamulans, who still preserve some Mayan ways of life, are apparently fiercely independent and follow their own brand of ‘Chamulan Catholicism’ (which I am told heavily involves praying with Pepsi and burping to ward off evil).  The adults fill the streets attempting to sell clothes and handicrafts (many of which are well made and attractive), while children as young as five approach you and ask for money with huge sorrow filled eyes.  The area is also famed for being the base of the EZLN Zapatista movement from 1994.  The town still has a slight hint of rebellion in the air and there are anarchistic slogans painted on walls all around the backstreets.  It may be because of this history that the town attracts many Europeans with dreadlocks, who seem to have stayed to try to make a living out of making jewellery.  Chiapas is one of the poorest states in Mexico and is the most in your face that we have experienced along the way.

Walls full of activism

Handsome blue church

On a lighter note, the place is wonderful and all sorts of activities can be undertaken in the surrounding area.  We did not partake which led to a German from our hostel labelling me ‘the lazy Englishman.’  We explored all the town had to offer, but mainly relaxed.  The weather is beautiful in the morning when the sun is out.  But when it goes away, you are very aware of the temperature, which led to three layers and wooly hats at times.  We were ready to go.  Bus booked to Lake Atitlan in Guatemala, when we had a call from the bus company advising us that due to some kind of protest, we were unable to go.  So we spent another night, this time in the company of a German/Swiss couple who were on a similar mission, drinking red wine and complaining about the temperature.

San Cristobel street 2

The 260 odd step climb to Iglesia de  San Cristobel

San Cristobel Market

Real de Guadalupe towards Cerro de Guadalupe

We finally managed to get on the small transport bus the next morning to take us to the Mexican/Guatemalan border.  The town of Ciudad Cuauhtemoc was a four hour stint, steadily descending as we went in the company of 14 other souls.  The roads were again treacherous, and the driving a touch risky at times, but we made it.  On the way, I was feeling like we had cheated a bit by booking full transport to our final destination and not trying to do wander through the town of La Mesilla on the Guatemalan side and jump on the next chicken bus south.  For a total of M$300 pesos (US$22) each, it was hard not to take the easy option, and also, as we discovered quite quickly at the border, a good thing we had!

Mexican immigration was a quick process, having already paid the M$295 pesos on our arrival in Baja at a bank, they wanted no more cash from us and stamped us through.  Walking through the Mexican side was ‘an experience’ that I will never forget.  Markets selling everything and nothing, offering last chances to buy that crap you could have bought everywhere else in the country with a cacophony of sounds and smells attacking us as we gingerly followed the driver through.  There were some desperate looking people lining the road begging for money, that were at times heart breaking and far too much to take in all at once.  “Dude, did you see that guy with his skull exposed?” asked the Aussie I had been chatting to.  Unfortunately I had, and it’s something I am going to find hard to forget.  We were taken to Guatemalan customs by the bus driver, who left us after we all got stamped through (without any hint of bribes from the officials I may add).  We then all squeezed (I can’t emphasize that word enough) into a smaller van, once the driver had done a DIY wheel change, and off we went into the rugged jungle hills of country number 3,Guatemala….

Guatemala border in La Mesilla

Guatemala border in La Mesilla

If your reading this and thinking about fighting your way through this border and finding transport in Guatemala to ‘keep it real’, I can only suggest you take the easy option as it is a hectic and confusing place.  Pay the few bucks more and save your chicken bus adventures for later on!

The journey is tough.  The road is poor, the bumps many and the five hours punishingly slow, yet hectic as the driver nearly kills us at least three times by racing chicken buses along the passes.   All around however, the terrain is majestic.  Jungle-clad hills cover as far as the eye can see, as we snake through following a river upstream to our destination.  After we let passengers off near Xela, the bus sighed with relief and we shuffled a bit, but then two more came on board, including a giant jolly Swedish guy, who oblivious to our struggle and pained expressions wanted to talk about his adventures.  “You know in zee caves, zere are zese blind shrimp, zat will clean your teeth.  But if you pick zee wrong shrimp, zey will start to strip your mouth.  So far, I have only had ze good shrimp”.  (Not mocking the dudes language skills as they were much better than my own, but the comedy accent made it even better!) With chat like that, I slowly warmed and the time passed a bit quicker.

Lake Atitlan from the shores of Panajachel - Aldous Huxley was right!

Lake Atitlan from the shores of Panajachel – Aldous Huxley was right!

We got there.  Panajachel on the shores of Lake Atitlan.  11 hours later and the lake slowly revealed itself to us as we descended.  At first only seeing the peaks of the three volcanos that surrounded it with quick peep here and there of the lake itself.  After finding a room, it was too dark to see, so we settled for some beers and grub to toast our new country.  The next morning, we awoke to see the lake in all its glory.

Lake Atitan Selfie

Lake Atitan Selfie

We may stay here for a while….

For all the snaps from our time in San Cris, click here!