Adventures and Apples in Aventura (25 January 2010)

We leave our flashpacking hotel this morning after a record number of showers in any hotel of the whole trip – lots of hot water and fluffy towels make it all so much more appealing! No change on the clothes though – we still look a little grubby and crumpled compared to the posh types who are staying here... We do the reverse journey back up the Keys to Miami and on the way stop at iHop for a stack of pancakes – sure Ant only wanted to stop there to see Gill squirm as she wasn’t challenged when ordering from the “Senior’s” menu! 

We also make a stop at the original fan boat tour people at Cooperstown to take a look at the Everglades. It was a great hour out there among the reeds and water – Ant was brave and took a paddle in the muddy water. Gill was wearing her “crocs” shoes so decided not to take the risk of one of the real ones taking umbrage..... Yet again our education improves, neither of us realised that the Everglades are actually a slow running river.... But we were rewarded with sightings of lots of birds and quite a few huge crocs basking in the long grass. But one of those naughty Norte’s (cold fronts) had suddenly appeared again so it was a fairly damp trip... Gill bought a see through plastic mac to cover up and looked for all the world like a giant condom.... But it was fun and apparently the crocs are less likely to attack when there’s more water and so actually it was a bonus! This fan boat operation is run by a small family – who seem to live and work from a series of trailers and wooden shacks with a selection of caged crocs in the back yard and the “matriarch”, a toothless (sooooo un-American) old crone ran the gift shop and cafe. Not that well. Ant visited the loo and took a look in the cafe – now Ant is not known for being fussy about these things, but even he said he couldn’t eat there.... But they did know their stuff and spotted lots of wildlife for us.

Then back to the Airport to drop off our car – Gill’s navigation skills deserted her yet again (Ant was the brave one who was driving us back to the City). We missed Sat Nav yet again and as usual found ourselves “off piste” driving through the rather nasty looking dock area and car crushing area.....


Then a cab to Aventura where the shopping Mall awaited. Another bit of a flashpacking as we booked ourselves into a two bed, two bath suite at the Marriott Residence (well, we should get BA miles for the stay so it’s a bargain really....) Off to the Mall for a late lunch. Not too much shopping (although Ant is returning tomorrow as he leaves late in the afternoon so there is still time....) and he did make a rather nice purchase of a swish Mac Air with all the trimmings at the Apple shop! We stayed at the Mall for an Italian dinner and then realised we had no idea where the hotel was in relation to the Mall. With Ant’s large purchase we decided it would be safer to take a cab back to the hotel even though we thought it was a short distance. It was short (but we still didn’t know the way) and the taxis wouldn’t take us. So a plan was formulated, Gill started to limp badly (well she did have a big bruise on her leg from tripping up a few days ago....) and we approached security with our sob story about the “wife” who couldn’t walk far. It worked and we were whisked off to our hotel in the security car – luckily Gill remembered to keep limping until the nice security guard was out of the way!


And all to soon it was morning, Gill swapped her backpack for her suitcase on wheels, donned a more suitable “travelling” outfit and was off very sadly on her own, and Ant stayed awhile to shop before he too was on his way home..... a sad day was had by all. But an amazing, fantastic trip had been had too, we loved every minute.

Flashpacking on the road to nowhere... (January 23 - 25 2010)

Enough was enough, we weren’t going to spend the last few days of this trip somewhere unpleasant , so we checked out of South Beach, went to the airport, hired a car and drove south!

What fun, a car to ourselves and the open road ahead for two days, Neither of us had been to the Florida Keys and so we made Key West our target destination. The Keys have been described as someone shaking America and all the nuts falling to the bottom. Perhaps better described and a jewelled necklace shimmering in the clear azure sea....

The sun was shining, sky was blue, breakfast in Starbucks en route – we were happy little bunnies. The 170 mile drive was great – once we left the mainland (twice round the airport and up and down South Beach – Gill as navigator was missing the Sat Nav…), it was just little mangrove keys, and bridges linking them, game fishing boats, motels, RV parks and more mangrove. It wasn’t as pretty as Caye Caulker of course but this is America! Seven Mile Bridge was impressive as it made its way from Key to Key.
One real concern we have had on this trip was the possibility of the resurgence of swine flu. No problem, we are in the good U S of A, so we went to a drive through Walgreen’s on the way and bought ourselves, for the princely sum of $18, a vaccination each!!

We found a pretty little pub on No Name Key – the No Name Pub, and sat in the garden and ordered a half pound of prawns each. We should have guessed, they weren’t the fresh succulent just out of the water ones – oh NO!! Brown, deep fried in batter – “Mum’s been to Iceland” sort of prawns!!! What a disappointment – only in America. But the pub had lots of money – the whole place was decorated with thousands and thousands of one dollar bills hanging from every inch of ceiling and wall. Feeling stuffed with fried food overload, we arrived in Key West!!

Now to flashpacking! Hotels are outrageous here – we did look at the Hyatt at $540 a night, but called in first at the Marriott Beachside – I think the guy behind reception felt sorry for me (this is Gill, Ant sent me in with the sob story….) But for a still fairly outrageous price we decided to go for it! Am in heaven the bathroom has hot water!! And a dressie….. And a soft bed with mattress toppers and sheets that are both dry and smell sweet – America really does have some good points! And they even threw in a free amazing breakfast. Part of the deal is also the frequent free shuttle in to town and back – but after what we are used to this was a luxe one! When it was not quite full they said no more, and they bring another one out. We were quite disappointed to share our shuttle with botoxed and banger job American matrons in resort wear, and no one came to the door selling fake pharmaceuticals.....

But we liked Key West – it’s a cutsie sort of place with old houses of clapboard in the Deep South sort of tradition only smaller and all appear to be really well kept unlike the Art Deco buildings in South Beach which appeared to only have had the odd lick of paint to cover up the cracks in the last 30 years.

We spent the days here wandering around Key West and having some enjoyable meals, particularly at “Nine 1 Five”. We saw the start of Highway 1, Hemmingway’s house, the port and harbour (and the two giant cruise ships docked there) and the southernmost point in the continental USA. We tried to shop but saw nothing that took our eye.....

The rest of the time we sat by the pool – a real treat as the weather stayed quite kind.

South Beach, so what? (January 22 - 23 2010)

We just didn’t get this place. Expectations were very high as the plan was for four nights of doing very little, just enjoying the surroundings, a little light shopping and eating all the foods we haven’t been able to get for the last seven weeks.

It wasn’t to be. The Clay Hotel was fine, in fact it has quite a history, gangsters used to stay there and it has featured in many films, but South Beach was just tacky, yes the old buildings were nice, but poorly maintained, yes there were some decent restaurants and expensive hotels, but there were far more shops selling tacky t-shirts, rude staff in restaurants and shops, and a hustler vibe. The main issue we had was the beach – yes it’s big and wide and quite a nice colour BUT you can’t get a drink on it! Short of drinking neat rum out of a brown paper bag covered bottle, we could see no way round it. We had to move on! And we were also expecting a parade of beautiful bodies, the best ones on view were ours…..

 

Now for the nice bits - we had lunch a good lunch at the Front Porch Café on Ocean drive – divine salads and chilled sauvignon blanc – we had promised ourselves this for weeks. Stacked high corned beef on rye sandwiches at Jerry’s Deli – all was fine and lived up to expectations, but we couldn’t imagine spending four nights in this area. It was also interesting that through all our travels in Central America in some poor and quite rough and remote places we didn't see one rat until we arrived here - there it was squashed on the pavement in broad daylight where no one had cleared it away.... We formulated an escape plan.....

I counted us both in and I counted us both out... (January 21 - 22 2010)

......to paraphrase the words of the BBC newscaster during the Falkland's War as he watched our troops fly into a dangerous war zone - that is exactly what the guidebooks had led us to believe we were entering.
Guatemala City has a terrible reputation for murders – about 40 a week, and so Gill wasn’t keen on visiting, however, as we had an early flight on Friday morning, we were left with little option. The bus station is in Zone 1 – the real no go area…… another rule to be broken!
The Litegua bus from Rio Dulce took five and a half hours and was a comfortable coach. It cost us Q60 (about £4.50) each. We had grabbed seats 3 and 4 in the front and so had great views as we literally drove across the country. Gaining altitude it was getting less green as we drove along decent roads to the capital.

Most murders take place in and around the bus stations, so we were really looking forward to getting off the bus, retrieving our packs and into a cab! In fact it all looked fine, very run down, but no worse than we’d seen elsewhere. We had booked into the Stofella in Zona 10 (supposedly the safer zone) and it was all really civilised. Apart from everyone being patted down for arms before going into the bank and yet more guns everywhere…. Bars, restaurants and good shops – what is all the fuss about? So rather than be barricaded into the hotel rooms, we spent our last afternoon, enjoying lunch alfresco, perusing Zara, Hugo Boss, and Apple in a top end mall, and finished off with a return visit to Frida’s Mexican restaurant, a branch of the Antigua bar and cafe where we started all those weeks' ago.

It was with a heavy heart that we left Guatemala, we have had a ball and have travelled safely for seven weeks, and have met no-one who has had any trouble. Sure, maybe crime does occur, but this is not the wild west which is what the guide books imply. So if you are reading this and planning a trip – go at once and have a blast - we did.

A final farewell was bade by Fuego, who was erupting merrily as we entered the airport. So hasta luego Guatemala, thanks Maximon for looking after us and hi to all the friends we’ve made and hope to keep in touch with. An epic journey.

Livingston I presume....? (January 19 - 20 2010)

Gill had woken up today and announced that enough was enough - for too long she had lived with smelly pillows, damp rooms, mildewed bathrooms and no hot water. She insisted on the best available in Rio Dulce like it or not!! So we get there, and long story short, we end up in the cheapest place we have stayed in all trip – less than £5 a night including private bathroom – but even though there are hot and cold taps in the bathroom, the important one never did work…..

All the guide books say that Rip Dulce town was a bit of a dump – but maybe we’ve been on the road too long as we like it here! Yes it’s scruffy, but people are kind and it has a good vibe. It’s original name is Fronteras and it does have a bit of a “frontier“ feel as you walk down the one main street. We have felt this a lot in eastern Guatemala, in stark contrast to the Mayan highlands where there is an edge. So we check into our little gem of a hotel the Paraiso Tropical, just up the hill from the river and under the 3.5km bridge. The local Mr Fixit, Captain Caesar, stopped us as we were walking there and offered us a private boat jungle tour of the local river area and off we went. We were expecting the area to be the back of beyond, and yes it is fairly remote, but we have been amazed at the amount of money sitting on slipways in the form of huge gin palaces worth millions. Little hotels and private houses are tucked away up little inlets and apart from the jungle foliage, you could be in Cornwall. We were then taken to a place on the lake for swimming which we were informed was “very clean” – Ant’s view was yes it must be, they are all doing their laundry in it! And yes, there were all the locals, bathing and doing the laundry – suds everywhere! The afternoon was rounded off with us all being taken to a restaurant on the river – only accessible by boat, where we indulged in a sundowner of huge glasses of not very good wine – quantity over quality ruled the day! But it got our creative juices going and the four of us conceived of and developed a new tv series – “Backpacker Wars” (Channel Four take note…..) where teams of backpacker children are pitted against teams of backpacker pensioners……

There is huge romance about going somewhere by river boat and which is only accessible by water, The stretch of water between Rio Dulce town and the sea is Rio Dulce proper (linking the Caribbean to Lago Izaba)l. The little water taxi speed boats make the journey to the river mouth in an hour, ours did some wending and took two, which gave us all the more time to admire the jaw dropping jungle clad banks and cliffs, cormorants drying their wings, whole egrets, acres of water lilies, kids in small dugouts coming alongside selling shells. As salt water got closer huge flocks of pelicans swooned around us and then we could say those immortal words – ‘Livingston I presume?’

Livingston was a charming, colourful little Caribbean town, and not the tatty little place as described by LP, so yet again we were pleasantly surprised. We walked up the hill to the top of town and enjoyed a really happy couple of hours chewing the cud with Christine and Rick with some rums, beers and Ant had a local garifuna seafood and coconut soup ( yummy). It was all too soon as it was time to say farewell. I am sure that we will all meet up again, as they are great travelling companions and we had tonnes of fun. So Christine and Rick if you are reading this – salud y muchos gracias, hasta luega!!

The return trip was much quicker and we spent our final night at Rio Dulce getting the laptop fixed for less than £4, eating smoked pork chops at Bruno’s ( like bacon – why hadn’t we had these before?) and reminiscing about our trip.

Agua Caliente but not in the shower (January 18 -19 2010)

Rick and Christine were, like us, moving on the next day to Rio Dulce and Lago de Izabal. So we all decided to travel together. We manage to get a ride into Poptun from a collectivo that had dropped someone off and then in Poptun we find the Fuerte del Norte bus station (shack) and listen out for the man shouting “Rio Dulce, Rio Dulce” We find him and load the bags in the back. Then we get on – not the best bus we have been on and after two hours of bumping along all our bums were numb. The countryside was great – cleared bush, now beef fincas (farms). Isolated clumps of palms, large banana plantations and the sun was shining – happy happy happy.

We had decided to go to El Paraiso, a remote finca on the lake – so again managed to find a very local bus that would drop us off at the entrance. It did – but then we realised that it was a two km hike to get to the lake shore….. Faced with this prospect Gill insisted that some stranger (remember the rule – never get into any strangers vehicle in Guatemala) take us in his pickup. He did, and the wages for his act of good samaritanship was a flat tyre from the rough road. We felt a bit guilty….. But we got there…..

El Paraiso was a cute little collection of straw bungalows on a black beach right on the lake shore. A nice place to kick back, but again no hot showers for Gill – she is beginning to get desperate now!! Ant and Rick washed by taking a swim in the lake, Gill and Christine chatted and put the world to rights, and another day passed us by, lots of laughter, lots of booze and a local speciality for dinner – boiled hen soup (Gallano) – no big deal but nice to share. A game of dominoes after dinner – Gill won, but sadly, the prize was not a hot shower…..We also loved sharing the magnificent huge sky of stars, with the Milky Way delighting us yet again.

The lake is beautiful and the green mountains across the lake are shrouded in mist and yet bathed in sunshine were beautiful.

The real reason we’d come here was the local thermal waterfall – agua caliente. Up early the next day, pack the packs and off in the back of a pick up with all we have in the world into the woods! The falls were magnificent, a gorgeous wooded setting, scalding water, tumbles 12m across a broad drip rock face into the sparkling pools below. Because we got there early we almost had it to ourselves. So here we were at last with all the hot water in the world – did Gill partake? NO!!! Contrary or what?
The water in the pool was cool, the falls boiling, so you’d get hot and cold currents. It was amazing to swim (very quickly) under the boiling falls into a shallow cave that was like a sauna, a backpacker child had a didgeridoo with him, and it made haunting, yet beautiful sounds. Could have stayed in the water all day.
We had made a tactical error in taking the packs to the falls, now we had to carry them all the way back to the road and await a local bus in the searing heat. A fab fab morning. The little bus trundled along and picked us up – 15 Q each (about £1.20) for the most enjoyable trip back to Rio Dulce town for our last two nights.

Where the f**k is the finca? (January 16 -17 2010)

We are making our way down to the Rio Dulce in Southern Guatemala and we had heard of an “interesting” traveller’s hangout called Finca Ixobel which was near Poptun about 100kms from Flores and about half way to Rio Dulce, so decide to drop in. Not sure of how to get there, so we go to the bus station and figure it out from there.  But no need – we and our increasingly large backpacks get into a tuk tuk for the bus station and when we tell the driver where we are aiming, we are whizzed into the bus station and deposited at yet another minbus who, for 40 Quetzales each (about £3), promises to take us the 100 kms and drop us off at the door of the Finca.  We had negotiated this in our best Spanish so were really not too sure what exactly we had been promised but went anyway….  Great we thought as we left in a nearly empty minibus, we can spread out.  Yet again, we are wrong.  The driver crawls along the street as the “conductor” leans out shouting “Poptun” “Dolores” – more and more passengers get in.  We then stop in the middle of the bustling market as they try and get more trade.  Sitting in a minibus in the heaving market is a great place to shop – the goods come to you.  We were offered everything from food, to fruit, to mops and brushes to toothpaste.  Our favourite though was the mobile “Boots the Chemist” who proffered his dusty basket of various (we are assuming legal….) pharmaceuticals and bottles of “nerve” tonic….  Sadder though was the lady clutching a child who was waving her recently issued prescriptions – she was trying to get the money to pay for them so she could get the medicine the child needed.

But the conductor still tried to fill up the van before he would leave.  Finally it filled up and off we went.  It was cosy but not too bad, but we couldn’t work out why he was still shouting to people on the roadside….  We discover yet again that “full” minibus in Guatemala is not “full” until every inch of space is taken.  Another first for us – all seats taken and another ten or so people actually standing up with their shopping and blocks of wood filling every available space – it’s a good job they are not tall people – and brings a whole new meaning to standing room only…..

As we approach Poptun about 2 hours later the minibus gradually empties as passengers are dropped off.  And our Spanish is better than we thought – after everyone gets off in the town we are taken the additional five kms to the Finca Ixobel and dropped off at the door.

What a place!  For the princely sum of £8 a night we each have a room (with electricity and hot water…..) and a private bathroom.  It’s set in two acres of ground surrounded by jungle and had little bungalows and tree houses dotted around.  Some of the rooms are dorms and some people just sleep outside in hammocks and use the “jungle shower”….  It has the feel of a hippy commune, but has an on site bakery and good wholesome food.  Dinner is en masse (well about twenty people last night) and whatever you eat or drink (and hooray, there was reasonable wine…..) you just write down in the honesty book.

It’s a cluster of rustic buildings in a rural setting.   There are lots of activities here, cave trips, river trips, treks etc. Not ones for guide and the like we took a self guided walk to Cerro Witz, a neighbouring hill.  They had no maps for us, which should have been the first warning.  But being intrepid traveller’s, we were pointed in the right direction and off we went.  The first bit rewarded us with a great view atop the hill.  We carried on and had to make a decision – we made the wrong one!  We found ourselves, armed with only two stout sticks and no machete, pushing our way through thick jungle, following the river (well stream, actually…..) but it was getting thicker and thicker and it was getting later and later with sunset just across the horizon.  Ant was facing his fear of lurking snakes as we bashed the ground with our sticks to hopefully frighten them off….  Gill became convinced that we were about to be attacked by a group of wild boar….. It was at that point that we both independently said the title of this blog……  Next time, note to self, take a compass…….

Tired but safe we return to our commune – we help ourselves to cake and tea and remember to enter it in the honesty book.  We met four Canadians and chat pre dinner.  Then an amazing dinner around a long wooden table (and we had sprouts!!!).  The Finca has a “pool” about 500 metres from the main area - a natural rock pool where there is a bar that opens at 9pm.  So that time we wend our way across by the light of Ant’s torch and sit like a group of aging hippies around an outdoor roaring log fire, drinking  wine and swapping bigger and bigger traveller’s tales!   It was our latest night on this entire trip and we were having a ball.

We got on really well with Christine and Rick and Matt and Rosemary and we hung about with them the next day as we relaxed around the finca eating more good food.   In fact we did nothing but eat, drink, pontiificate and hold court.  Rick and Christine (Hi guys if you are reading this) had a beautiful phrase – Backpacker Children, for the young, fresh faced backpackers (in contrast to us Backpacker pensioners!)  Ant was the only active one who did go for a ride in the morning.

This is Ant – ride was great, a few hours in a western saddle was enough though!  Only me and a local guide ( who spoke no English) made for a beautiful quite morning ride, through small farms and very poor villages, children hacking at bush with huge machetes (best learn young) a few canters and mercifully no trotting made for a perfect ride.

Feria's and fiestas in Flores (January 15 2010)

To get here from El Remate we take a collectivo with our backpacks chucked on top for the 28 kilometre journey to Santa Elena. Bear in mind these are rather old minibuses, officially holding 14 passengers – our maximum was 26….. it was cosy! We were also glad that we had had a shower, the Guatemalan’s are a very clean sweet smelling nation and we were pleased not to let the “Western” side down! We had noticed shampoo sachets littering the lake shore in their most public of bathrooms. People were all dressed up for the feria today, but more of that later. As travelling companions in our collective we had men in their Guatemalan cowboy stetsons, women in local dress, younger girls in their finery and a few children. Had it not been for us two (comparatively!) huge Westerners, we reckon that the payload could have been up at thirty! Arriving at the bus station we have to transfer into a tuk tuk for the short drive over the causeway into Flores, a small town on an island in the middle of the beautiful lake.

We had planned to come and stay here for the day as, apart from having a charming name, the town was having a feria today. All we knew was that it was the annual festival of the “Christo Negro”, the black Christ, but it sounded interesting so here we were. It has been a great day. We check into the Santana hotel, and (yet again…) treat ourselves to an upgrades lakeview room each (not bad at $50 including 24 hour electricity and hot water, even in the taps in the basin, a real treat…..), dump our backpacks in out room and venture out to see what it was all about – and by the way, for the first time in weeks we officially declared the day a “scorchio” – it was hot, hot, hot!

Flores is a small, ramshackle town set on a small hill. We followed the roads and ended up at the town square for an open air Mass, kids running around, nuns hiding in the shade, people frying foods. The mass went on and on and when the terrible singing started (she would never have got past Simon Cowell….) we decided to go for a walk down to the lakeside. But the heat even got to us so back we pop to the hotel to shed some clothes, get our hats and the suncream – we had forgotten what it was for! Of course by now it’s time for a drink and a spot of lunch overlooking the lake….

But the festival continues all day. The Mass had finally finished so we walk back up to the church to try and get some idea of what was going on. The queue of people stretches out from the black Christ on his cross lying supine in the church aisle surrounded by candles. People go up and give him a kiss and then wipe him down with a bit of cotton wool – still not sure if this was for his annual wash and brush up or to get rid of any loitering swine flu germs from all the kisses…..but he was looking all clean and shiny. But like the Mass it had a lovely atmosphere, not the stern, serious religiousity you would expect, but a joyful atmosphere with kids still running around enjoying their candy floss. By this time of course it was time for a further wend and a shop before our sunset drink….. Down by the lake we catch a group of about 50 locals carrying a saint figure on a palanquin bedecked with flowers and watch them place him carefully on the prow of a small lancha to transport it back to their village on the other side of the lake. Drawn by the idea of a lake trip we hire an 85 year old man to take us for a very peaceful boat ride to look at life around the lake shores, we made slow progress around like lake, the vistas of Flores making it look prettier than the town really was.

The old guys gold teeth sparkled as much as the lake. Back on dry land, we see people making intricate patterns on the road from what looked like coloured sawdust……. But we didn’t quite discover what they were until our peaceful sunset drink was interrupted by a tirade of loud firecrackers. Quickly downing our wine we go out to see – and there was the Black Christ in all his glory being paraded on a huge wooden structure covered in flowers and tinsel, followed by a huge crowd of silent people. He is carried, surprisingly, by a team of women, and as he makes his way slowly forward, he is preceded by a man with a long pole whose job it is to raise all the power and telephone cables that line the street so he doesn’t get caught up. It looked very heavy and swayed from side to side dangerously. He is followed a few yards behind by the ever present Mary resplendent in her flowered cloak. Over the next few hours he is taken through all the streets, the crowd growing every minute, before he is finally returned to the church for another year. During his travels, as night finally descends, the generator that is attached to him by about a 100 metres of electric cable clicks into life and he becomes illuminated – a magical site. And the silence of the crowd is only broken by the deafeningly loud series of firecrackers that go off every time the parade reaches one of the pavement artworks or carpets of flowers that we had noticed earlier - the whole parade stops while the fireworks go off and the proceeds to trample across and ruin all that hard work….

Late in the evening, when he is finally back home, the town explodes into a real fiesta with dancing, music and yet more firecrackers and finally a display of real fireworks – i.e. ones that look nice as well as make a huge amount of noise!

We had had a really interesting day and it was a privilege to be a part of such a festival that has been going on for hundreds of years. We stop by on the way home at the local 7Eleven type store which has the only cash machine for miles and are surprised to have the door politely opened by a machine gun touting guard – yes, we really are back in Guatemala!