When you're done, you're done

I booked the shuttle to leave Lanquin on Saturday and head to Rio Dulce and from there, Livingston, a Garifuna town only accessible by boat.

About 9pm the night before they told me the shuttle wouldn't go because of the roads and I had to stay in Lanquin another day. Could be worse but I was ready to go, I'd already had a day of lazing around and certainly didn't need another. I'm an instinctive traveller and when you're done, you're done, it's time to go.

So I was relieved when at about 10.30pm they told me it was back on - not the roads at all but apparently I was the only one booked on the shuttle and it wasn't worth it for the driver. I understand that. But there was a late surge of interest and we headed off on Saturday morning with six of us on the shuttle.

An aside: it is far easier to get shuttles across this part of Guatemala than rely on chicken buses. But I prefer the colours, smells, sounds and sights of the chicken buses. They are cheaper yes, but the the enjoyment is in the rides, crazy drivers, interesting passengers, all sorts of food offered for sale up and down the aisles at various stops. I'm looking forward to the chicken buses again - soon I hope.

I was ready bright and early Saturday morning, after only about 3 hours sleep, to get on the bus and finally we headed off. About half an hour into the journey a lightning bolt pierced my brain and I remembered that I had left my camera battery and charger in the powerpoint at Zephyr. I'm sure you can imagine what I yelled out.

After about half an hour of help by a Belgian passenger and the driver, we confirmed the charger was indeed still in the powerpoint and that the driver would bring it on his trip tomorrow and meet me outside Sundog Cafe in Rio Dulce at 1.30pm. Cool. So Dayun, Stuart and I settled into Rio Dulce and quickly discovered there is nothing to do here - despite it being a really attractive location. We popped into the gritty town for a greasy lunch of fried chicken and chips, then in the afternoon, wandered down to the Yacht Club for a gin and tonic. A spot of dinner back at the hotel then off to bed for my weary bones. The boys were heading off to Livingston in the morning because there is nothing to do here.

I hung around to meet the driver. It wasn't pleasant sitting outside in a dusty carpark for two hours in the hot and humid air, but what can one do. I returned to the hotel dreading the thought of another night here. Another day and all I had to do was go sit in a @#$@ carpark for a couple more hours in the heat of the day. Guess what, no one turned up.

I was ready to go two days ago at this point.

Rather desperate, I had been messaging Chris from the hostel who had been speaking with the driver who kept telling me they were there and waiting but I never showed. I'm glad Chris believed me. He knows Rio Dulce so he understands I wouldn't be missing these crucial appointments. And, I can't use my camera for the rest of the trip without the charger so I have to wait.

Finally, day four in Rio Dulce and I asked Chris to ask the driver to bring it to me here at the hotel. It is just across the bridge and I couldn't bear sitting in that godforsaken carpark again. Finally at 1.30pm my driver turns up with a load of new backpackers. After unloading them he finally broke it to me that his friend has the charger and will be here in cinco minutos. Thoughtfully he left me his mate's number. So after half an hour I asked the girl here to call him for me and see what is going on. At this point the camera was losing the battle. I understood it would be sometime today. Joy and rapture it took a couple of hours but finally got here.

Poor old Rio Dulce, it is really quite pretty and I just can't understand why it is so boring, but it is. I guess that can be the same with people too sometimes.

So tomorrow is Independence Day in Guatemala (and Mexico and the rest of Central America, I believe) and I get to celebrate by leaving Rio Dulce, I'll be on the 9.30am boat for Livingston.

I am done here!

Semuc Champey

The main attraction in the area is Semuc Champey which features both caves (not for me) and these amazing rock pools suspended over the river. One of the most tranquil places you could imagine but at the entry there are young guards holding large shotguns. Guards and shotguns are just everywhere in Central America – even with nature (take that nature!).

The pools are a limestone bridge formation that is about 300 metres long and you get in one pool and climb or slide your way down to the last pool. The walk up to the mirador is both steep and slippery but well worth the effort, and it makes the swim at the bottom just that bit nicer.

The river runs with fury into a hole going underground, then coming out the other side in some beautiful waterfalls. Apparently a few tourists fell into the hole a few years ago with body parts emerging out the other side up to 40 days later. The area is now roped of with a guard to make sure no-one gets too close.

The water is fresh and crystal clear and you can even see little fish swimming about. The photos tell you just how gorgeous this place is. The 9km ride there took one hour in the back of a truck along a very bumpy and in parts, steep, road.

Lanquin

Tuesday morning and an 8am shuttle to Lanquin. A tiny town in the jungle in the middle of Guatemala. Someone discovered its beauty years ago and now it is part of the must-see list for tourists. This is the sort of place you can come for a couple of days and stay for weeks or months.

Lanquin itself is a small village with not that much to do but there is a relatively new hostel here that is just beautiful and makes it very easy to lay around in a hammock and just hang out. Chris and Thomas, the owners, have an amazing music collection so when there’s electricity, you can just lay around, staring at the amazing view, listening to great music and eating seriously good food – a pleasant change.

One of the activities to do here is tubing in the river down the bottom of the hill. We rode in a tuk-tuk to a spot on the river, jumped in with our tubes and just floated down the river, stopping along the way for a beer. It was quite a way we ended up going, about 2-3kms in just over an hour. The scenery was idyllic, beautiful trees gently bending into the green river, with little spots where there were some rapids to provide a bit of excitement. Ah, this is living!

Backpacking: 1994 vs 2000

My first trip overseas was when I was 21 and I did the "Europe backpacking thing”. A rite of passage for any young Aussie.

Back then I had no idea what I was doing. I booked my flights almost as an ultimatum to my best friend Fiona who was supposed to come with me. That didn’t work so there I was, in Europe, on my own.

Obviously it worked out well because I have been roaming around various nooks and crannies of this planet with some regularity ever since.

In 1994 the internet didn’t exist for common folk. Neither did mobile phones.

When you met people and hoped to meet up again, firm (well kind of) plans were made and it either worked out or didn’t. Mostly it did. I used to always make two meeting times just in case trains were late or you were held up for whatever reason. Quite often it was let’s meet outside the cathedral (there’s always a cathedral in Europe) at midday and then 6pm if midday doesn’t work. It was quite a successful strategy.

I exchanged addresses (and I mean postal addresses) with several people and we used to write each other letters and send Christmas cards.

To contact home, I would call reverse charges from some phone box, somewhere. When my credit card stopped working I’d call Mum reverse charges and she’d sort something out then I’d call back the next day to check everything was okay. Of course, we wouldn’t know if my card had been maxed out until she received the statement in the mail each month.

For entertainment on train journeys I had a walkman. I was regularly buying AA batteries and had limited myself to 20 cassette tapes. I had spent months preparing mixed tapes with enough variety to keep me amused before I left. The twenty tapes took up a sizeable chunk of space in my backpack but it was worth it. I can’t live without my music.

My camera was a lovely little Canon. I remember getting to Ireland towards the end of my trip and putting in 20 rolls of film to be developed. They took up a bit of space in the backpack too.

Sixteen years later and technology characterises the modern backpacker. I am not unique travelling with my Macbook Pro, Sony Lumix camera with HD Video and iPod classic which currently holds around 23,000 songs.

I can listen to music, watch movies, read books, check the news, manage my banking and sundry other admin on the computer. I skype family and friends regularly – for free! I am anti Facebook, that would make everything just too convenient. But I email friends to check where they’re at and to organise where we can meet again. I email photos to them too sometimes. When I am somewhere without electricity or wifi I feel slightly anxious - what if something is happening and I don’t hear about it straight away.

With friends, often time is spent sharing music and showing each other our favourite Youtube clips. There is some great stuff out there. One day in Antigua on my first visit there, we spent an entire afternoon playing theme songs from American TV programs on Youtube. Yes there were a few beers involved that day. I have discovered many new ways to waste time and amuse a group of people with a computer and wifi.

But aside from technology, everything else is the same. Travellers on a journey from somewhere to somewhere else. Some for months or years, some for days or weeks. Some seasoned, some first timers. Always interesting. Travellers are an interesting breed. Everyone is on some sort of budget so shouting drinks in bars is not part of the situation. But people are generous in other ways. Gifting things which are no longer required – books and clothes mainly and the odd bit of medication, sunscreen or bug spray. Travel stories and advice is a dominant part of any conversation. Most of the hostels I have stayed in have been based on recommendation rather than research.

Occasionally you meet someone who knows someone you know. The other day a friend bumped into some Aussies in Mexico who knew me. So I guess many conversations are where have you been, where are you going, and oh did you meet so-and-so. The best thing about travelling is these coincidences.

Now I’m on the way back down the isthmus. Oaxaca was my northernmost point (on land). Most travellers start in Mexico and work their way down so a lot of people I met at the beginning were towards the end of their trip. Now I’ve done a U-turn, I’m seeing the same people in different places. I’m looking forward to more of that over the next couple of months.

Mucho Lluvia

Just a quick update from Guatemala. This is the worst rainy season in 60 years with lakes overflowing and landslides absolutely everywhere. It is a tragedy that is still unfolding with up to 50 people dead, many more missing, and rains and landslides continuing. It is heartbreaking to see such tragedies in a beautiful but impoverished country.

Friends of mine had been stranded at Lake Atitlan and eventually got out by trekking through knee deep mud to make it up to the road where they could then drive out. The Lake area seems to be one of the worst, and I thought the roads were bad when I was there a month or so ago.

I arrived in Lanquin today after an eight and a half hour bus ride from Antigua, there were hundreds of landslides along the way of varying sizes. I'm almost getting used to seeing massive boulders on the road and parts of road just washed away down the mountain. The drivers still seem to drive quite recklessly with us having to yell out "despacio por favor" (slow down please) a couple of times.

But I'm safe now and Lanquin is beautiful and idyllic and I'm just chilling out with a beer.

More retrospective blog updates tomorrow. Maybe.

Antigua, again...

After an overnight bus, followed by a five hour wait for the next bus that got me to Guatemala City at 7pm, I thought it best to jump in a cab straight for Antigua so that all the travelling could be out of the way.

The staff at the hostel there are just lovely and it was really like coming home, being welcomed back with a big hug by Adela. Just what one needs after a couple of days on buses.

It was easy to spend another five days in Antigua and with landslides happening everywhere and tourists stranded because of the situation near the lake, there were quite a few people just hanging around.

I pretty much spent these days in Antigua finishing off the Christmas shopping, buying all the last gifts to send home. Sam arrived on Sunday after being stranded down at the Lake but ended up seeing Antigua in record time, managing to climb Pacaya, all in a less than 24 hour stopover. Makes me glad I’m not rushing.

Most of the people in the hostel were either Australian or Israeli, Aussies travelling for a long time and Israelis just for a month. I managed to learn a few words of Hebrew but all I can remember is difduf (not sure about the spelling) which means when it is sprinkling. Sorry Dor!

Zipolite

I had no idea where to go after Oaxaca and Nick turned up with glowing praise for Zipolite which is about 60km south of Puerto Escondido, back on the coast. So I decided to head down there for a bit of sunshine. A week too late though apparently, it was raining when I arrived and didn’t stop so after a couple of days I cut my losses and headed back to Guatemala.

Here is the description of Zipolite from the brochure at the hotel - their words, not mine:

Zipolite means “beach of the Dead Ones”. It’s a magic place. Since ancient times it was visited by the Zapotecans, inhabitants of the high plains of the Oaxacan Valleys, who turned it into a tourist attraction and a ritual site. Afterwards, during the sixties, it was discovered by young people from different nationalities, known as hippies at that time, who found in these beaches great enchantment living among the few native settlers that inhabilited the area. Thus, a town and a tourist development with very peculiar characteristics was originated.

A great interest for nature contact, a high appraisal to rustic and simple life, far from the artificial comfort of modern world, and a tendency for liberal habits brought down differences of races, beliefs, nationalities and languages which nowadays turned it into a place that is frequently visited all through the year by hundreds of young open minded people, from all over the world, who love nature, freedom and peace. Zipolite consists of around one hundred homes whose families rent rooms at very low costs, and offers a wide range of possibilities such as restaurants, bars, discotheques, stores and many other attractions to visitors which can be considered as a “very special adventure”.