Hotel Escalon Plaza
Travel Blogs from San Salvador
Last of the Pacific rollers
... bit more leg room on this bus and no music.
At La Libertad we quickly found the stop for our final bus of the day and by 2.00pm were at the Hotel Roca Sunzal in El Tunco. The room was a little small but clean and once again we had a lovely spacious balcony. On it were a table and chairs and hammock. It overlooked the hotel pool beyond which was a beachfront restaurant and bar.
This was to be our last beach stop on the Pacific coast. It ...
Surfing El Salvador
... br> De volgende ochtend wil
Lobke ook surfen en gezien de golven een stuk kleiner zijn dan
gisteren, twijfelt ze niet langer. Zelf werd ik wakker met een
pijnlijke schouder die me de ganse dag parten speelt. Vermoedelijk
ergens bezeerd in de wasmachine, ben ik niet eens in staat mijn arm
hoger te heffen dan mijn hoofd. Lobke doet het super en op enkele
minuutjes tijd is ze diep in het water. Daar moet ze een hele tijd
wachten omdat er weinig golven ...
Buses and borders
... who had lost husbands, sons and daughters in the struggle against Somoza. Esteli had been a Sandinista stronghold and suffered many casualties in the fighting and bombardment. There were many more English translations here than at the museum in Leon which made it more interesting. Photos of the young people who lost their lives covered the walls and there were first-hand accounts of the fighting. In one cabinet were items of clothing donated by the mothers ...
Last Day and then Home
... years, we can reconnect, and it feels like no time at all has past. Another amazing part is that we both live in the United States, but it takes us being together in a foreign country for us to see each other again.
We left early Tuesday morning for the airport. It is a 45 minute drive, but amazingly the traffic was not bad at all. We flew from San ...
Guatemala to El Salvador
... a long struggle we finally get back on the Panamerican Highway outside of Guatemala City. Now we just need to follow the road until it reaches the border.
4.00pm: A pick-up truck overtakes us impatiently. A tall fair-skinned man is standing in the back, holding something shiny in his right hand: a huge gun. It looks like a bad action movie but it’s real. Mai shouts: “Was that a gun?” A rhetorical question. I pretend not to ...
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