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A border crossing and a Cheesecake
Entry 107 of 125 | show all | print this entry |
After something like 15 months, in Honduras, a country I had a 3 month visa for, I was a little apprehensive about presenting my passport at the border.
I was in a minivan with 15 others. Shaking slightly as we approached the border. Everyone jumped out and ran up to the window to get their exit stamp for Honduras and Enter Guatemala.
Luckily before I left Utila, i made friends with the immigrations guy, if you can call him that and for 1000 lempiras - about 50 US Dollars, he gave me a new stamp, saying that i entered the country only a month ago. Many travelers visit this guy in Utila and stories come back that his stamps dont hold up and his bit of official paper arent accepted at the border, so needless to say, i was a little worried.
As i approached the window, i opened my passport at the new stamp, hoping that they wouldnt flick through my passport and see the true entry - 15 months ago.
Without so much as a look, my passport was handed back to me and I was allowed to proceed to the entry window for Guatemala! wooohoooo
We chugged our way along some insanely windy roads for the next 4 hours. The minivan was cramped and I was restless. Battling an infection on my elbow from the trip around the island, i was uncomfortale for the whole trip and relieved when we pulled into Antigua a few hours later.
Antigua is a beautiful city. Sabrina and I arrived late, at around 7pm and visited 3 hostels before finding one with an overpriced room.
We dumped our bags and ran out to the cold cold streets, looking for food. We came across a street seller with 2 dollar plates of meat, beans and guacamole with a few totrillas. Bargain and it was delicious. We sat in darkness on the side of the road, scoffing down the delicious meal with a few Mayan decendants.
It was fairly cold in Antigua as we wandered around that night. The polished cobbled streets and brightly painted buildings gave a welcoming atmosphere to the city. We came across the main plaza, where a hippy was spinny puy, for a minute at least, until the police broke up the show. The growing corwed booooed the police who said that es prohibido para hacer performancias espectaculares en la plaza principal. A spectuacular perfomance it was and the hippies and their drums were forced to leave. Next up, it was time for desert - New York Cheesecake. And it was superb. But this just gives an idea of how touristic this city was.
The next morning after a quick typical breakfast of eggs, beans and fried plantain, we headed into Guatemala City.
Sabrina took a flight home to LA. and will be missed.
Now im on my own again and traveling north through Guatemala. Im in guatemala city at the moment. Its a big mess here. The busses blast past, leaving clouds of diesel fumes behind. There are stray dogs on every corner and all the usual street sellers.
I arrived in the main plaza just in time to join a free tour into the grand palace. Constructed in 1930, it took almost 5 years to complete and cost a whopping 2 million dollars. Back then the Guatemalan Quetzal was one for one with the US Dollar, now we get about 7.5 quetzals to the dollar. The spanish tour took an hour and we saw the presedential rooms inside the palace along with an enormous chandalier, with 250 bulbs. A small child, the son of a couple on the tour fell down a flight of stairs and landed with a heavy thud. There was silence for a second, then high pitch wailing. The kid was ok, but the tour ended after that, so maybe i missed something as they rushed the kid outside.
I visited the crazy central markets and snapped up a few bargains like avocados, mangoes and strawberries for only a few cents and sat in the plaza, watching the people pass by. The people in the plaza were so happy. It seems like the less you have, the less you need and the happier you can be in life. An old woman danced past, stopping with everyone to do a few steps as music played in the background. She may have been a little crazy but she was loving it. I spent about an hour in the middle of the plaza, hanging with an old guy who had setup a little bbq on a shopping trolley. He sold a plate of tortillas, beans and meat for 10 Quetzales, about $2 to the hungry bums in the plaza and was loving his life. He told me his name was Joaquin and he had a 14 year old daughter. He had something wrong with his leg and dragged it behind him as he walked. He ended up giving me a plate of food and completely refused to accept any money i had. So in return, i bought him a cup of coffee from a mayan woman. 3 police came up to him and i got a little nervous, thinking they would tell him to leave or asking me for cash etc, but they knew him and all shook hands and had a laugh. 2 of the police bought plates of food and sat on the wall next to me. We struck up a siimple conversation and i excused myself, said thanks to joaquin and headed home.
The Hostel I was staying in was called Fenix. It was a run down old place with creaky floorboards and sawdust from termites all over the place. The cross eyed owner had the cutest dog ever. It was a sausage dog called Rambo III. I thought that was fairly entertaining and asked where Rambo I and II were, i was told that they died and Rambo III is all that is left. He had the shortest legs ever and a massively fat belly. I dont know how his twiggy legs supported that body, but he seemed happy enough.
The next morning, i ate my mango and avocado for breakfast and caught a bus 5 hours north to Coban.
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