After my sleepless last night in Leon, me and Sylvia have to get up and organised for the start of our epic bus journey to Guatemala. We are taking the Tica bus (a bit like Megabus, but a tiny bit more "luxurious"), and the journey will be divided in to 2 parts; Nicaragua to San Salvador, where we will spend the night, then San Salvador to Guatemala.
Typically, the first bus is late (could have really done with the extra time to sleep...I look and feel like a burst ball!), but it eventually arrives and we begin our journey, with the added comforts of movies being shown, food (ok, the bus stops and all the passengers are bought a Burger King!) and an on-board toilet...Fancy! My only complaint is that the lady sitting next to me is colossal and takes up half my seat too. I´m completely squashed in to a corner - really she should have bought 2 seats. Just sayin'. Oh - and while we're on the subject of complaints, I do have another. Part of the ceiling of the bus detaches and hits a man on the forehaead, slicing it open and turning the bus in to a relative blood-bath. So for the rest of the trip, I'm convinced we're all one pothole away from aids. Hepatitis at the least. Living on the edge!
In truth, the majority oo both our journeys are absolutely fine; the border crossings are smooth and relatively quick (and cheap!), the driver is only a partial maniac, and the scenery en route is beautiful. And luckily, no armed robberies or hijacks either. Bonus!
So we eventually arrive on the quaint and cobbled streets of Antigua, Guatemala's former capital. Overlooked by a volcano, and only about 1 hour from Guatemala City, this is the country's jewel in the tourist crown. It has a little something for everyone; markets, unbelievably beautiful colonial architecture, plenty of restaurants, galleries, shops and boutiques, an attractive range of festivals and it is in close proximity to loads of outdoor pursuits, like volcano climbing. Arguably on the main draws of Antigua over other cities in Guate is its relative safety. Of course it still suffers heavily, particularly from robberies and muggings (the standard "restrictions" apply; take a taxi after dark, no matter what the distance, avoid going off the beaten path etc) but no where near as much as the 45 murders average per week in Guatemala city. This little city actually feels safe.
After finding a hostel near the central park and the main market place ($6 per night; fairly cheap for such a touristic town, it's time to explore the city and start planning what to do here. I have found daily morning yoga classes that I'm going to take for a week, and Sylvia has decided to enrol in Spanish school, so we're anticipating on staying for at least a week. Ok, so Spanish school would obviously be infinitely more useful and productive than yoga school, but I've reached the point where I no longer care. NO HABLA ESPANOL. This isn't going to change overnight. It's merely a fact. What I can't already ask for (or point at), I don't need. Simple!
Our first exploration of the city is fruitful, to say the least. There are loads of other travellers here, and plenty of middle-aged and retired Americans (which makes me think that Antigua is like the Benidorm of the Americas...) The whole place is buzzing in preparation for the International Jazz and Theatre Festivals taking place, and for Santa Semana (Holy Week), which happens at the end of March, but whose festivities kick off in the weeks before.
So naturally, with so many tourists kicking about, the cream of the local freaks have come out to play. And me and Sylvia are given the pleasure of meeting one, after only about 20 minutes in the city. Just south of the main plaza, a sprightly little man approaches us and tries to sell us weed. When we politely decline, he launches in to a barrage of abuse ("Fuck you, motherfucker...you dont want to party? I can fuck anything I want to, bitches!" etc etc). So I helpfully suggest that he might like to try fucking himself, and this goes down like a lead balloon. It would almost be a scary moment if he wasn't struggling to hit the dizzy heights of 5 feet...
So it's off to a good start then, and we've successfully ingratiated ourselves to the locals already...
We call it an early night, in preparation for starting our classes the following day. And to be honest, my liver is crying out for a break after Leon. But a comfortable night of sleep it is not! Interspersed with irritating room-mates (not you Sylvia! :-p), dripping taps and a sharp night-time drop in temperature, our first night of Antigua-insomnia is just the start of things to come.
Hostels...simultaneously the bane and the joy of the travellers existence!
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