8-25 [Long Overdue]

All good things must come to an end, but fortunately for Seth and I, some good things end well, too. Just today he flew home, our whirlwind tour of Central America - the "impossible" five countries in twenty-five days - sadly at an end. Still, we arrived in Costa Rica with time to spare and electedto break with tradition. After so many temporary friends, here of all places we have the unique opportunity to meet old friends rather than make new ones. The world is, as I have come to know it, a strange and wonderful place made all that much more so by good friends, life of late has been made better still in the company of two of the best a fellow could ask for. My friends Kevin and Brooke - the former with whom I studied at UF and the latter his lovely wife - recently relocated to Costa Rica for work and [lucky us!] has spent the last few days playing host-cum-guides for both Seth and I. Indeed, it is with a happy heart that we have passed the last few days in northern Costa Rica not in hostels but in their homes, not with strangers but compadres. It is certainly the kind of thing a fellow could get used to: forget the perfect beach days - after so many weeks on strange roads with stranger people, perfect friends will do and then come.

8-23 [Welcome to Costa Rica]

Trip planning is, by its very nature, so completely removed from the actual act itself as to be almost absurd. What is talked about, sketched tentatively, and even planned for is inevitably so far off - and likewise foreign in fact and conception - that it is with no small sense of disbelief that I stand here, at long last, in Costa Rica. My first impressions of Costa Rica are, like so many of the countries before it, mixed. Neither overwhelmed of disappointed - I was, I knoq now, spoiled rotten by Mexico, El Salvador, and Nicaragua - I am nevertheless looking forward to putting my bag down for a minute and cultivating roots. Still, after eight weeks of travel, five months abroad, and no less than six countries, even I knoq that this will be less "journey's end" and more of "journey's respite." Still, whatever you call it, it will be a welcome change. Even if I know already that Costa Rica will not be a fantasyland of possibilities and opportunities, to my weary feet and aching back nothing sounds more sublime at the moment than going to a local market more than once, of finding a "favorite restaurant," of making honest-to-goodness friends again.* So here's my notice to the world: I'm on travel hiatus again; for now I'm just a resident.

* Not to knock "travel friends" - I love them, I do! - but they are decidedly temporary in nature.

8-21

How different things are today than yesterday. In fact, today´s tranquility could not stand in more sharp contrast to its predecessor´s frenetic pace. In fact, all we managed to do today was move from one side of the island to the other, leaving plenty of time to again enjoy the waters of Lake Nicaragua and, more importantly, rest our weary bones.
Tomorrow we´re off to Costa Rica, my soon-to-be home-away-from-home, but for now I think I´d rather enjoy the Lake a little more first. :)

8-20

I cannot remember the last time I felt this good, this happy, this complete. I climbed Maderas today, and frankly the eight-hour uphill hike has left me both mentally and physically exhausted. Which is fantastic, really. It´s the kind of bone weariness you only feel after some extreme exertion, and coupled as it is with the feeling you get of accomplishing some long-ago-imagined task... well, it´s perfection.
More than that, it´s the surest sign yet, as I nestle into my hammock on the side of a dormant volcano, that the absurd direction my life is currently heading in might actually be the right one.

8-19

We have, as the crow flies, barely moved a inch. Still, even if Granada and Isla de Ometepe seem miniscule, it took no less that two taxis, three buses, and a ferry to make to happen. [That´s not even included the kilometer-plus uphill walk with our bags!] The view of Lake Nicaragua isn´t the only thing that has changed, howeve3r - so, too, has the pace of like. After a few days of cityscapes Seth and I once again find ourselves off the beaten track and loving every minute of it. We´re holed up for the night in Finca Magadalena, a working agricultural cooperative that is located at the base of Maderas, one of Ometepe´s two volcanoes.
Below is the lake and above us the mountain - tonight we´ll swim and tomorrow we´ll climb!

8-18

Early on in the trip, Seth and took a calculated risk: in lieu of our planned stopover in Antigua, Guatemala we would visit Leon, Nicaragua instead. The reasons for this were many, not the least important being being the fact that I had already visited Antigua and, more importantly, quietly and irrationally hated my time there. Plus the scheduling to make it happen twice was going to be a nightmare of epic proportions. A visit to Leon, on the other dand, would afford us the opportunity to see Nicaragua´s two great colonial cities back-to-back and ¨judge¨ them accordingly.
Well, that which was planned has come to pass and the votes are in. The verdict? For me, Leon by a mile. Both are charming colonial cities, and although Leon is slightly older, Granada has aged better [no thanks to the American conquistador William Walker]. Still, for all its lustre, Granada feels all that much less ¨lived in¨ than Leon. Indeed, even in itsw slightly dilapidated form, Leon ended up being so much more than a colonial city. If Granada was prettier it was also shallower, and Leon´s warts bestowed an extra level of depth for all its homeliness.
Both had lovely churches, true, but the spaces between Leon´s were adorned with murals and museums, commemorating its turbulent past. For example, Leon had the museum of Revolutionary Hereos and Martyrs, while Granada had a museum of Precolombian atifacts, and I know I´m a terrible classicists to say this, but only the former left me thinking well into the night.

8-16

Lonely Planet, you´re not doing yourself any favors here. First you were off base with Alegria, El Salvador and now you´ve missed the mark with San Lorenzo, Honduras, as well. You´re on thin ice here, bub. Sure, it´s not the most beautiful town I´ve even seen, but I can assure it´s a far sight better than my last Honduran travel experience. Indeed, even if our border crossing was not as speedy as we might have hoped, San Lorenzo and the Gulf of Fonseca its perched on are both better than you led us to believe. I mean, we may be the only foreign tourists in town but hey, there´s a carnival tonight so it can´t be all bad, can it?

Editor´s Note: A large number of Candied Apples says that no, it cannot. :)

8-15

An Open Letter to Lonely Planet:
Dear Lp - can I call you LP? - I love your products, really I do, but the truth is we need to talk. The elephant in the room is Alegria, El Salvador, which is as lovely as you describe but otherwise not at all in line with your entry. Take for example, Alegria´s picturesque crater lake: although it is in fact stunning it is not 2km downhill from town [Fact: 3km uphill] and likewise not icy [Fact: warm and green].
You and I both know there are other issues but lets try not to let them get in the way of what has otherwise been a lovely day in El Salvador´s highest down. Let´s just promise to try harder next time, okay?
xoxo,
Frankel

PS Oh, one more thing. Why didn´t you tell me they sell gelt in El Salvador. One word: delicious.

8-14

Say what you will about the politics but leave the people of El Salvador be. Indeed, after only a day on La Rute de las Flores I´m already beginning to wonder why Guatemala recieves so many more visitors than its smalle, southern neighbor. [Fact: El Salvador recieved only 35,000 tourists last year - Guatemala welcomed more than half a million.] I mean, what more could you possibley want than amaiable people, adorable villages, and amazing landscapes? Take Juayua, the first stop on La Ruta, as a case in point. The town´s central park, strewn with flowers, complimented its colonial church, yes, but the seven sucessive waterfalls just a few kilometers outside of town make them pale in comparison. So, too, did our impromptu guide, eight-year-old Juan Carlos, who led Seth and I there and back (the lot of us keeping ourselves entertained with more animal calls than I can make (in Spanish) all for the company and eventually a chocolate sundae. Juan Carlos may be an extreme example, sure, but everyone we met along La Ruta was as helpful as the day is long and, amazingly, seemed downright pleased to see us. Smiles and pleasantries were the order of the day in both Apaneca and Ataco as well. Above all else, though, the latter was exceptionally well named: there, at long last, I had a taco (or three) that met my newfound Mexican standards...

8-13

Yesterday´s marathon of traveling seems to have been worth it - one day into El Salvador and its already exceeding my expectations. One of the clearest reasons for this may be the ruins at Tazumal, which were themselves much more impressive than I thought they´d be.* So, too, was Lago de Coatepeque, my first - but hopefully not last! - volcanic crater lake. Being now something of a swimming hole gourmand I feel I can say definitively that it, too, was an unexpected surprise. The combination of mountains, water, sky, and El Salvador seems a potent combination.

* More than that, though, they were also the final piece necessary to complete my Five Mayan Nations experience. Amazing, having had never before seen Mayan ruins as recently as May, I have now seen at least one site in each of the five countries there were active in. This just blows me away, really it does.

8-12

Another day, another border crossing. Although Seth and I started the day in Coban, Guatemala (deep in the central highlands of the country) we are ending it in Ahuachapan, El Salvador (some 16km south of the Guatemala border). Today has, once again, been a travel day, albeit an unsual one. Along the way we returned to Guatemala City (making it the second city in Central America I´ve been too twice), ostensibly so we could change busses but also so
Seth could see the National Palace and Cathedral.
Heck, even I was happy to be back, to go one last time to a restaurant I already knew (not Wendy´s!) and even take the Palace Tour again. Say what you will about Central American capitals, but I genuinely like this one.

PS What I like less are lengthy bus trips through the hinterland, but what´s done is done and now, at long last, I have all of El Salvador to explore.

8-11

Semuc Champey. Ah Semuc Champey. What can I say about Semuc Champey? Although it literally means ¨the river that flows beneath the ground¨ and it is ¨simply¨ a sumidero (underground and then resurfacing) waterway, its unofficial title as ¨eighth wonder of the world¨ is well deserved. Situated in the middle of the rain-fed brown waters of the Rio Cahabon sit a series of startlingly blue mountain steam-filled pools, each one lower, more tranquil, and more picture perfect than the last. As the name suggests, the Cahabon travels undisturbed beneath all of this, leaving this pristine ecosystem in effect suspended above the raging torrent beneath it. Even now, as I write this, as I describe it, I still find it difficult to grasp. Indeed, more unbelievable still, after so many beautiful rivers, valleys, and lakes, Semuc Champey truly unique unto itself.

8-10

Yesterday was uneventful, unfortunately, and largely consumed by transferring from Flores to Lanquin in the Guatemalan highlands.* We´re here to see Semuc Champey, a self-proclaimed ¨Wonder of the World,¨ but that isn´t until tomorrow. Instead, today was taken up by the wonders of our hostel, El Retiro. Sublime and perfectly described by Lonely Planet, it and the surrounding countryside, are, in my humble opìnion, heaven on earth. The Rio Cahabon winds through the region (even El Retiro) carving valleys and canyons that were made for hiking. So we did for a fair bit of the day, and nothing makes for a good hike like beginning and ending it with a dip in the aforementioned icy river.
I know I say this a lot, but God really does love this country. The landscape here isn´t the only charming thing, though: so too are its residents. Indeed, for most of our hike were were accompanied and dareIsay protected by an amiable stray dog we took to naming San Perro. (The people we met along the way were likewise friendly, if decidedly less loyal.) It seems to have even rubbed on on foreigners. The first night we met two wonderful Israelis - fitting, considering how Seth and I met) and spent this afternoon with another wonderful Dutch couple, Victorine and Nico.
With the two of them in tow, in fact, Seth and I went (on my friend German-cum-Nicaraguan friend Daniela´s half rememembered advice) to the nearby caves of Lanquin at sundown to see what can only be described as a bat exodus. It´s impossible to describe and I am still sans-pictures but know this: nothing compares to the feeling of thousands upon thousands of bats at once wizzing by your head as you and your companions cry out in every language they know!

* The ride wasn´t all a waste, however - the six-hour ride was easily made bearable by making the acquaintance of Hilda and Joris, a lovely Dutch couple who Seth and I inadvertantly introduced to the crudities of American humor... but that´s another story for another day.

8-8

Yesterday was D-Day, as in ¨How Delight I am that Seth Finally Arrived¨ Day. (You can see why I abbreviate that.) Our complicated rendezvous went off without a hitch* and now our travels together begin in earnest.
The eight-hour bus ride from Guatemala City to Flores was unpleasant is uneventful (no sleep for us!) and even proceeded ahead of schedule. In fact, although Tikal is fully 77km from Flores, where we are staying the night, we were at the park well before 9am. And what a park it is! Although I have been fortunate enough to see at least half a dozen major Major ruins (amazing, that) Tikal is itself a world apart. Hidden deep in the jungle like Palenque but with the monumental architecture like Chitzen Itza and under visited like El Tajin, it has hands down become my favorite. We spent seven hours there, tired as we were from our overnight travel, and climbed as many of the great temples as we were allowed, but still did not see everything. Amazing, truly amazing.
This evening once again finds me (now us) in Flores, the first and thus far only city in Central America I´ve visited twice. It´s nice, I have to say, to be able to show Seth my ¨favorite swimming hole¨ or to point out a good restaurant, but its also strange. Fortunately tomorrow were off to more uncharted territory: Lanquin and Semuc Champey!

* Oh, and while waiting as the bys station I had the unusual pleasure of meeting an American expat who plays for the Belizean national soccer team. What a strange world!

8-7

What a strange day. On a whim I decided to give myself a day in Guatemala City and I´m glad I did - but perhaps for all the wrong reasons! Guatemala City, to me, is what I once, long ago, expected Mexico City to be like (it was, instead, entirely diferrent and far better than I could have ever hoped), and by far the most cosmopolitan place I´ve been in ages. All that is besides the point, however. As Central America´s largest city it is also at the forefront of U.S. Globalization efforts. So, in addition to seeing the National Palace (which, being green, is I´m told, adorably nicknamed the ¨Great Guacamole¨ by locals) and passing by my first U.S. Embassy - seeing the eagle crest for the first time in six months made me feel intensely patriotic - I also went to a Wendy´s. In fact, I am there now, enjoying one of the best (and most expensive) meals I´ve had in weeks. Who knew my stomach was homesick for Chili and a Frosty?

PS Later there was Taco Bell and, I kid you not, it was the best taco I´ve had since leaving Mexico.

8-5

If I´ve been keeping a poorer record than usual, it´s not entirely my fault. After all, in the last few days both my paper journal and writing pen have gone missing - so you see it couldn´t be helped. (I am, scandalously, even going so far as to write this all-important first draft in pencil!) Aside from these losses, the last few days have found me on the move again, from Antigua to Lake Atitlan opposing shores and the towns of Panajachel and San Pedro la Laguna. Both were lovely, in their ways, but as is often the case, as different as night and day. Panajachel, the traditional point-of-entry for Atitlan tourists is simultaneously a tourist hub and commercial port in miniscule, and I hended only one day to decide its dolí frantic pace wasn´t for me. I hended a bit more time in San Pedro to discover the same thing. Almost too tranquil, San Pedro is two towns in one: tradicional highland village (of shorts) and, entirely separate from that, a backpacker haven. In both cases its the kind of place where time stands still and people get stuck. Lord knows I almost did – tose Norweigan girls can be bewitching.* Others were less (more?) fortunate. Still, both were an interesting slice of life, and like so much of Guatemala, achingly beautiful. Indeed, there is a campaign afoot in both communities to have Lake Atitlan declare one of the Seven Wonders of the Natural World and they certainly have my vote.

PS Oh, and this bears repeating: every form of transportation I´ve used in Central America has officially broken down at least once, most recently (and notably) the tiny launcha I took across Lake Atitlan. No worries, though, all´s well that ends well and I love it here all the more for it!

* I´m looking at you here, Julie. :)

Nothing to see here, move along (to back-dated entries!)

Please Note: As part of my on-going effort to keep a semi-daily account of my travels again, I just uploaded five days worth of entries, travels in both Guatemala and Honduras. Enjoy!

Movin´ On Up [to a deluxe apartment in the sky]

How lovely it is to be traveling with people again! It seems misery loves company,* and six of us stranded in Copan Ruinas decided to try our hand for the greener pastures of Antigua – which is about as far removed from Honduras you can be in Central America. True, not every country can be a Mexico or a Guatemala, but Antigua is truly a world apart: unstuck in time, it is a gem of a city which, if overly touristic, is so with good reason. Indeed, here in the middle of Western Guatemala I am reminded not of Florida but of Florence. Better yet, it has the only Irish Pub in Guatemala and as two of my new traveling companions are [Northern] Irish, tonight is a night for Guinness.
In the event that I do not survive, remember me with a pint.

* How much worse I feel for those few who showed up as we were leaving!

This is not the kind of water therapy I was looking for!

I should have taken the hint. After five sunny days in Guatemala, it began to rain as soon as I crossed the border into Honduras. Still, my destination, Copan Ruinas, one of the southernmost Maya settlements ever built, is only fifteen kilometers from the border with Guatemala (the cradle of Maya Civilization) and almost directly in my path eastwards to Guatemala. So, on paper at least, in made sense – here, however, practice and theory diverge. My first twelve hours in Honduras can be summed up in one word: rain. It rained and rained and rained. It rained so much that my moderately-overpriced hostel – as well as the rest of the city of Copan Ruinas – lost both electricity and water by the next morning. The electricity I can do without, but the water is a different story.* Fortunately ruins, by their very nature, need neither and I will say the ruins of Copan were worth the trip. Still, few can blame me if I elected to beat a hasty retreat back to Guatemala far sooner than I expected.

* There is perhaps nothing sadder than cooking Ramen with bottled water by candlelight.