unfettered

My last entry left off with my departure from Antigua. I took a quick shuttle from Antigua to Guatemala City, where I could pick up the 10:30am bus to Rio Dulce to spend the night on my way to Belize. When I arrived at the bus terminal, I saw that the next bus set to depart was a chicken bus and since I did not feel like spending the next 6 hours crammed into a dilapidated reject from the country school district, I decided to hang out in the scenic bus terminal from 2 hours to await the Pullman bus. Well, this bus was nicer, but I think they obtain these buses by similar methods as they obtain their chicken buses – when they outlive Greyhound’s high standards they are reborn into their second lives as Guatemalan public transportation. Needless to say, the bus was crowded, kind of stinky and definitely sweaty sans A/C. Our driver stopped at seemingly random towns, I think to let snack vendors pile onto the bus to perform a kind of hawker parade down the center aisle, shouting out the contents they had for sale in the buckets carried atop their heads. At one such stop, a well-dressed gentleman got on the bus and just stood in the aisle until the bus driver gave him a familiar nod and continued on our route. This man proceeded to deliver an entire Christian sermon, complete with little “Christ Died for Your Sins” souvenir leaflets. Everyone ignored him, which was a challenge for me since he was standing directly next to my seat, occasionally pounding on the seat back whenever he wanted to make a particularly dramatic point. I don’t really know what he was saying. He was speaking in Spanish and I was wearing my ipod, but I did find his whole performance to be particularly well complimented by the Neko Case soundtrack going on in my ears.

I arrived to Rio Dulce on time and checked into my $10 a night hotel. The next morning I boarded a lancha for Livingston, the gateway to the Caribbean. The boat captain took us on a scenic route, giving us the history of the area and pointing out the different species of birds and plants. After this informative 2-hour boat ride down the Rio Dulce, they dropped me directly at my hotel dock. I needed to spend one night in Livingston because I was headed to Belize and there are only 2 boats a week that travel between Livingston and Punta Gorda, the furthest point south in Belize.


I didn’t find Livingston all that interesting, but I didn’t investigate it very closely, either. I was very impressed by the hotel where I stayed, which was more like a B&B. The owners were a husband and wife – he was from the area and she was from Belgium. All the rooms were little wooden cabanas with screened in windows, ceiling fans and mosquito nets. The Lonely Planet calls their restaurant one of the best restaurants in town. I ordered the local specialty called Tapado, a coconut milk and seafood stew and was probably the best thing I had eaten since I arrived in Guatemala, though there hasn’t been much competition in this category. I grew quite fond of the Guatemalan beer, but that doesn’t really count as food. After probably the best night sleep I have had in weeks, thanks to mosquito nets and no anxiety about bugs biting me in the night, I boarded the boat for the one hour ride to Punta Gorda. From there I would catch a chicken bus for a 2-hour ride and then a short water taxi ride to Placencia. Someone told me it was the only sandy beach in Belize, but someone can correct me on that. One the boat from Livingston, I met several people headed to Placencia, so we traveled together.




One of the first things I noticed about Belize was that most people in Belize are English speaking. I heard some local dialects, but no Spanish. Belize also features the Queen of England on their currency because they used to be an English territory, which explains the language thing. The travel went smoothly and I checked into my hotel. I wasn’t crazy about it, since it didn’t have a beach view, but it did have A/C, no mosquitoes and cable TV, so I was exited to find someplace for an early dinner and watch HBO andCNN for the rest of the night.


My friend, Arnauld had decided to meet me in Belize, so I wanted to find a different place to stay that was more scenic and had a front porch or balcony. I ended up finding a place called the Barefoot Beach Bar and struck up a conversation with some people seated near me. One of whom, was originally from St. Louis and retired to Belize several years ago to build and operate some charming little cabanas, called Captain Jak's. He used to sail a lot and his name is Jak. Since we were both from Missouri, he offered me a nice discount and even drove over to my other place to pick me up with my stuff so I wouldn’t have to carry it. After I relocated, he gave me a tour of his house, which had beautiful hardwood floors and custom cabinetry. He used the local Amish for all the carpentry and woodworking in his home and in the cabanas (yes, I was surprised to learn that there are lots of Amish in Belize). Though the cabanas were not situated on the beach, they overlooked the lagoon and all had lovely front porches to sit outside and watch the hummingbirds. They also had full kitchenettes and decent water pressure in the showers, which was much appreciated. Arnauld arrived on my second day in Placencia and we had a really relaxing 3 days, just hanging out on the beach and eating fresh seafood. Our last day in Placencia, we asked around to figure out how to get to La Ceiba, Honduras. I was supposed to meet my friend, Noortje on the Bay Island of Utila to go to diving school and I really had no idea how to get there. Arnauld was headed to Copan, Honduras, further sound, but was going to accompany me across the border to Honduras. It sounded relatively simple: backtrack to Punta Gorda, take a boat across to Puerto Barrios, Guatemala and then take buses to cross the Honduran border and travel east to one of the main hub cities. From there, I could continue on a different bus to La Ceiba and Arnauld could head south to Copan. It sounded much easier than it turned out to be.

Getting back to PG was as expected, but that 1 hour 15 minute boat ride to Puerto Barrios was somewhat challenging. I appreciated that they insisted we wear life jackets. None of the other boats insisted on this measure, so I figured that Belize was a ‘safety first’ kind of place. Then when they threw plastic tarp over us, I became a bit concerned. By the time we started moving, the concern I felt graduated to worry. We were hitting these waves, bouncing out of our seats and landing rather violently back on the hard benches. Quickly I learned to cover my head with the tarp and engage my quads to help cushion the fall and spare the trauma to my lumbar spine. This exercise continued for the entire duration and on top of that, my motion sickness set in after the first 10 minutes. I tried to focus on one point, take deep breaths and hope that I wouldn’t throw up on Arnauld or the Swedish guy seated next to me. Arnauld reassured me when he saw land ahead and I felt much better knowing the ride would be over soon. When we finally reached our destination, I had to take a slow walk up and down the dock to calm my poor stomach. (btw- the picture is the before we got on the boat. I was not smiling afterwards.)Arnauld bought me some saltines and a Gatorade, which made me feel much better. Since that part was over, it was time to get on another bus, this time a comfortable shuttle, to take us to the Guatemalan/Honduran border. I have no idea why it took as long as it did, but it looked like our shuttle driver needed to stop and shop for pineapples at roadside stands. By the time we reached the border, they were closed. At that point we were approached by cab driver who told us there was another immigration office a couple of miles down the road where we could get our passports stamped, granting us legal entry into the country. This cab driver took us to an unmarked building, just as it was beginning to rain. He ushered us around the back where a shirtless man with a large belly answered the door. Our cab driver spoke to him for a few minutes and then told us it would be $20 for us to get our passports stamped. This charge was completely illegal, of course, but it was raining at this point and we were really tired and didn’t have much choice. Arnauld did some good haggling and we ended up getting out of there paying only $10, which covered the stamping of both our passports. We paid the cab driver $25 USD to drive us to the next town of Omoa where we could find a hotel and resume our trek across Honduras in the morning. After more haggling by Arnauld, we got a decent priced hotel room and I was delighted since it was clean, air-conditioned and had cable. The next day we took another series of chicken buses, some with tricked out paint jobs and sound systems blaring Reggaeton, which in a way made me feel at home as it reminded me of 109th Street. We finally reached the town where all bus routes converge where I got on a bus to La Ceiba and Arnauld got on a bus to Copan. It was about a 4 hour ride and I wasn’t exactly sure what the plan was when I arrived in La Ceiba. Noortje was coming from Antigua and spending the night, but I didn’t know where or what time. I ended up just taking a cab to Parque Central and looking for a hotel, which I easily found. I met up with Noortje the following morning at the ferry to Utila. I found Noortje right away and she had found a travel buddy from Antigua who was also headed to Utila. Her name was Tina. She’s also from NYC where she owns a vintage clothing store on the lower east side. She was a lot of fun to talk to and I have already gotten in touch with her back in NY. Tina had the misfortune of flying out the same day that outlawed liquids on all flights, so she had to throw out all the duty free rum she had purchased on her way out of Guatemala.

After a pleasant 1-hour ferry to Utlia, we immediately found a dive school we liked and scheduled ourselves to begin our first day of classes that same afternoon. There are loads of dive schools that send representatives to the dock when the ferry arrives to hand out leaflets and try to get people to sign up. We collected a number of brochures, but decided on the school that had full-color brochures and a slogan “Kill Only Time, Take Only Memories, Leave Only Bubbles.” Since Noortje and I both work in marketing, we wanted to give our business with the only school that bothered to put any effort into their advertising efforts. I didn't have the opportunity to bring my camera with me since I didn't want it to get wet, but if you want the check out their very professional website, here's the url. http://www.utiladivecentre.com/



The first night we were to spend at a hotel called The Jade Seahorse since the place we wanted to stay was booked for the first night of our arrival. It was this whimsical, dream-like, Alice-in-Wonderland kind of place, built by an American artist and decorated with marbles, pieces of broken china, old bottles and anything else colorful and shiny that you can think of. Even though it cost more the place we wanted to stay, it was well worth the experience. It felt like sleeping in a pop-up book.


After that first night, we moved to a place called The Colibri, which was clean and bright with a pool and a lot of chairs to sit, enjoy the scenery and be open targets for the abundant mosquito population. Deep Woods Off at 25% DEET is not nearly enough protection and even with a 50% DEET that Noortje gave me to use, I was still covered in bug bites. It’s unsightly, but everyone is scarred in the same way, so I suppose it’s just something you have to deal with. We began classes at Utila Dive Center that afternoon we arrived and started with the classroom portion of our training. There was a textbook with an accompanying DVD that explained the material. Over the course of 3 days, we were given a written exam over each of the chapters with a final exam on the last day covering everything we had learned. The second day we began the shallow water training, where I realized that my mask filling with water triggered serious anxiety and presented more of a problem that I had anticipated it would. The class size is limited to 6 people and we get a lot of personal attention, which was fortunate for me since I needed it. In the end, I realized that I wasn’t going to finish everything I needed to do in the 5 days allotted, but I had completed all the written work and most of the shallow water exercises that would allow me to dive with an instructor. The whole process was pretty draining and I figured that if I could at least do one dive and get it over with, I would feel a sense of completion, even if I decided to abandon pursuing the completion of the Open Water certification. My experience thus far had not been much fun and I couldn’t see the appeal of diving. But, I changed my mind after completing one dive. We did a 30-foot dive for 30 minutes at a nearby coral reef. It was beautiful and relaxing like meditation. Despite the tinge of motion sickness, which I think I can keep it in check, I’m now inspired to complete the certification elsewhere, which will require about another 2 days in the water. My friend Caroline and I are going to spend 10 days in Los Cabos, Mexico in September where I am going to finish my certification and she is going to begin hers with the intention of completing it. It takes about 5 days, so it kind of monopolizes vacation time, but it’s a nice accomplishment that will allow you to dive on future vacations.

Besides, giving up on the training allowed me a couple of days to just hang out on the island and do nothing. Since Arnauld was meeting me there for the last 2 days, the timing was good. He arrived the same day my housemate from Antigua, Lucy arrived in Utila who had since been joined by her niece from London. It was nice to have some time to catch up with them and to hang out with Arnauld before I had to head back to Antigua and then fly back to NY. I had a bit of a snafu on my departure date from Utila, when my alarm did not go off and I missed the 6:20am ferry back to La Ceiba to catch an 11am bus back to Antigua. Fortunately, I was able to catch an 8am lancha that got me there in plenty of time. The ride was pleasant and the water was calm so it helped erase the memory of that awful boat ride from Belize from the previous week. I met up with Noortje and we boarded a luxury bus for Antigua. It was really comfortable with air conditioning, snacks, reclining seats and a movie.


The trip was broken up in two days with an overnight stay in Copan, on the border of Honduras and Guatemala. We scheduled in this way to allow us to spend some time at the Mayan ruins in Copan. Though not as impressive as Tikal in stature, there are more sculptures and carvings that are well preserved and make for a worthwhile trip. We were impressed with ourselves at how easy the return trip was going, until the morning we were set to return to Antigua. We didn’t arrive in Copan until after the travel agencies had closed and we were not able to book the following day’s shuttle in advance. Since we didn’t have much of a choice, we paid the $15 shuttle price to a taxi driver, who was going to take care of booking the reservation for us and we would confirm it at the travel agency in the morning. When we arrived at 9am to the travel agency as instructed, they had no record of any reservations in our name and told us that the shuttle was already full. Since I had to fly out of Guatemala City that following day, this missing reservation posed a significant problem. We had to take a taxi to the bus terminal of the luxury bus line and we were fortunate enough to purchase the last two available seats on the bus to Antigua. We were definitely disappointed that we felt like we could have been swindled, but it was worth taking the chance at the time. The price ticket was only $15, so it wasn’t a huge loss. After our visit to the ruins, we checked out of our hotel to head back to the bus terminal for our departure, at which time, the taxi driver from the previous day showed up with our tickets and told us the shuttle driver was on his way to pick us up. On one hand, we were glad that he was honest and got the tickets for us with the money we had given him. But on the other hand, we were really annoyed that he hadn’t informed the travel agency that we would be stopping by first thing in the morning to confirm our reservation. We argued on principle, but it really wasn’t worth it since the Honduran way of doing business and concept of customer service is what it is. There’s not much accountability and overall, no one in the service industry really cares very much about doing a good job. So in the end, we paid the $15 for nothing, but at least the bus ride back would be air-conditioned. At that point I was so tired of being sweaty and uncomfortable and always feeling on the verge of dehydration.


So we arrived back to Antigua and I took Noortje out for a farewell drink and to celebrate her birthday, which was the following day. My hotel is Antigua was charming. It was a restored abbey with a peaceful courtyard and fountain. It felt like a nice way to end my two-month stay in Central America. After much running around in the morning to do some last minute shopping, I caught a shuttle to the airport in Guatemala City and arrived back in NY as scheduled. As much as I enjoyed my sejour in Central America, I love coming back to NY; especially that moment where you come from the airport and are crossing the bridge in a cab and see the city at night for first time in a long time. Even trash-strewn 125th St. in Harlem is more appealing. Yes, I have a found a way to romanticize trash in the streets when it's NY, whereas trash in Guatemala is just plain-old trashy. It felt good to be home.

posted by Angie @ 6:11 PM