Boquete fairground

Some Things You (probably) Didn’t Know About Panama

• It’s actually not so tiny. Panama looks small on the world map, but that’s partly because of its position (sandwiched between two huge continents) and partly due the Mercator projection. Panama’s area is 75,517 sq km. If it were a U.S. state it would rank #41, behind South Carolina and ahead of West Virginia.

Casco Viejo, Panama City

• The name Panamá is an indigenous word that probably means “abundance of fish”.

• Panama was founded to allow the canal to be built. Its official motto is “For the Benefit of the World”. More precisely, Panama was founded so that the canal could be built on terms favourable to the United States. Panama declared independence from Colombia in 1903, the U.S. navy prevented the Colombians from sending reinforcements to assert their rule, and that was that. Construction of the canal began the following year.

Miraflores locks, Panama canal

• In some ways, Panama is the least Central American of the Central American countries. Besides being historically ruled from Colombia rather than Guatemala, it’s also in a different time zone than the other six nations, and it’s the only country in the region whose license plates don’t read “CENTRO AMERICA” or “C.A.”

Priorities

A rafting guide in Boquete told us this story about a recent trip that he led. A young couple was on the raft, and while passing over one of the larger rapids both of them fell into the river. The guide pulls the woman out of the water, all hysterical, shouting “mi novio, mi novio!” (“my boyfriend, my boyfriend!”). Relax, the guide tells her, and proceeds to pull her man out of the water as well.

Half an hour later, another big rapid, and once again the young couple spills out of the boat and into the river. This time it is the man who is rescued first, all hysterical, shouting “mi sandalia, mi sandalia!” (“my sandal, my sandal!”)

The Darien Gap

Annoying the locals on Isla Bolaños, Gulf of Chiriquí

The Pan-American Highway extends all the way from Alaska to Patagonia. All the way, that is, except for an 87-km section in eastern Panama along the border with Colombia, known as the Darien gap.

The Darien gap is some seriously rough terrain. There aren’t any roads, just footpaths branching every which way. The forest is infested with deadly fer-de-lance snakes. Diseases like malaria and yellow fever, which were eradicated elsewhere in the country, are still present here. The human population consists mostly of Colombian guerrillas from FARC who regularly kidnap people for ransom.

Is it impossible to build a road through the Darien gap? Of course not, and the Colombian government is all for it. The Panameños, however, are less keen. Colombia is a country with serious problems, and having a barrier of dense jungle between it and Panama seems like a good idea.

Something to Howl About

Howler monkeys are common in the forests all over Central America. Often you can hear them long before you see them. Why they are called howler monkeys is a bit of a mystery, since clearly the sound they make is a bark, not a howl. But maybe “barker monkeys” doesn’t sound as exciting.

Howler monkeys bark (sorry, howl) for various reasons, such as to assert their social status or to warn of danger. People sometimes howl at the howler monkeys to make them howl back, but this can cause undue stress to the monkeys and is not encouraged.

Howler monkey, Boca Brava

Making art with local materials, at the bar in Cala Mia resort, Boca Brava

What happens when barking monkeys meet barking dogs? An awful racket, that’s what. Early one morning in Boca Brava, a family of howler monkeys had stationed itself in the trees inside the resort where we were trying to sleep. The two resident dogs were driven completely crazy. They had no hope of climbing the trees, and the monkeys had no intention of coming down. The standoff lasted for hours, much to the amusement of the guests, who didn’t have to worry about oversleeping that day.

World’s Most Boring Career?

Isla Bolaños

We joined a so-called “island tour” from Boca Brava. In practice this meant being intentionally stranded on a remote island beach in the Gulf of Chiriquí for the day, with a snorkel, a book, a sandwich, and a few bottles of beer. There are certainly worse ways to spend your day. But what if this was your everyday?

That is pretty much the case for the boat captain who took us there. He motors out to the island with groups of tourists three or four times per week, then he just sits there for six hours until it’s time to go home. He doesn’t swim or snorkel - perhaps he used to, but it got old. He doesn’t visit the shore, preferring to stay in the boat all day. He doesn’t listen to music, or read a book or a newspaper. He just falls asleep, or sits there looking at the same scenery day after day. We have to admire his inner peace. For us visitors, one day living this lifestyle was quite enough.

Panama City

Panama City's banking district, view from the cinta costera

Of the seven capitals of Central America, Panama City is the only one that’s on the tourist route. Few people really like the others: Guatemala City, Tegucigalpa, San Salvador and Managua all have too much violent crime for most people’s tastes. San Jose is dull, and Belmopan is tiny and sterile. Panama City, on the other hand, is reasonably safe, interesting, and pretty. The ruins of the old town, destroyed by the pirate Henry Morgan, are adjacent to new skyscrapers in the banking district. From the metropolitan park, with its toucans and monkeys, you can look down on the pacific locks of the Panama canal. We spent a lot of time walking around Casco Viejo (the fortified colonial compound), and almost as much time at the nearby fish market eating ceviche out of styrofoam cups.

Ceviche at the fish market, Panama City

The city is developing fast - everywhere you look there are new businesses, new residents, new ideas. A lot of money is being made. So if you’re looking to make a change, and if you can stand the humidity and heat, Panama City is a good place to go.

See more photos from Panama.

Ceibo tree, Parque Nacional Volcan Arenal

Pure Life

Costa Rica - love it or hate it. We loved it!

So yeah, with not much indigenous culture and few colonial remains, it’s not everyone’s perfect destination. It has more high-end restaurants than street-food stalls, and way too many SUVs. Some people complain that it isn’t “authentic”, but that’s unfair - Costa Rica is a perfectly authentic Costa Rica, and should be appreciated for what it is.

Playa Chiquita, near Puerto Viejo

Take your average Central American country. Now solve the massive poverty, educate the population, put an end to the civil wars, and clean up all the trash. The result is Costa Rica, “the best country in Central America” according to an aging Guatemalan lawyer we’d met in Antigua. Democracy is uninterrupted since 1949, corruption is low, the roads are safe to travel, the water is safe to drink, and protected nature reserves are actually protected.

The country is not without its share of problems. Much of its “green” image is greenwash: recycling is patchy, plastic bags rule the land, and everyone drives around in large cars. Many rural families still live in improvised shacks, and the capital San Jose is considered dull and not very safe by locals and visitors alike.

Road to Manzanillo

Ticos are predominantly white, but they are definitely latinos. They eat gallo pinto for breakfast, they speak Spanish (with their own accent and expressions, including the famous pura vida), they are mostly Catholic and they celebrate Holy Week by going to the beach.

As far as we’re concerned, it’s four thumbs up for Costa Rica. We had a great short stay there, and will look forward to exploring more on a return visit.

The Waitress

Volcan Arenal

We visited a restaurant in Monteverde that specializes in upscale versions of typical regional cuisine. We’d previously been to a similar place in Honduras. They serve the usual chicken-tortilla-rice-and-beans recipes that you’d find in any local eatery, but they pay careful attention to ingredients, preparation, flavouring and presentation. They also charge five to ten times as much as the eateries, but it’s worth paying the premium once in a while to remember how delicious this food can be with a little bit of care.

The waitress came by to take our order. She addressed us in very good English. We read our selections from the English-language menu, and she copied the Spanish names into her notepad in slow, meticulous handwriting. After this was done, we had a few questions. Like, what is you name, miss? She told us her name. And how old are you? Seven, she said. And how long have you been studying English? Two years.

Canopy tour, Monteverde

When she wasn’t coming by to check if we needed more food, our waitress was bouncing on the chairs and tables all over the restaurant and having a swell time. Normally we are wary of under-age labour in this part of the world, and as consumers we try to make choices that do not reward it. But in this case the child’s schooling seems to be on track, and she also has ample time to play, so maybe it’s okay.

Soundtrack

We finally tracked down the song that has been playing on the radio since the beginning of this journey. It’s called El Verdadero Amor Perdona, by Mexican band Maná. Here is the video below. Not exactly a groundbreaking artistic achievement, but listen to it again and again over three months and eventually it will stick.

Holy Week

Our time in Costa Rica overlapped with Latin America’s biggest annual holiday: Semana Santa (Holy Week), the week leading up to Easter. Families save up all year for the festivities. Up north, in Mexico and Guatemala, Holy Week is marked by processions, festivals, church services, flowers, costumes and the like. But further south, it’s mostly about the beach. Every travel guide to the region will warn you that during Semana Santa, any location close to water will be packed, prices go way up, and places to stay can be fully booked weeks in advance.

Playa Uva, near Puerto Viejo

Our war plan for Semana Santa consisted of three stages. First, we hit the pacific beaches at San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua, ahead of the onslaught. Then we cross the border to Costa Rica and spend the week as far from the beach as possible - in the cloud forests around Monteverde, and at La Fortuna near Arenal volcano. Finally we decamp to the Caribbean coast at Puerto Viejo once the cataclysm has passed.

Puerto Viejo

The highlands were not exactly deserted during the holiday, but the scene wasn’t anywhere near as hectic as on the coast. We know, because we saw the aftermath at Puerto Viejo when we arrived there in the afternoon on Easter Sunday. A few beach encampments were still in place, the residents having a last dip in the sea before returning home. Food stalls, video arcades, and live music stages were in various stages of disassembly. Mountains of garbage were everywhere, but since this is Costa Rica, the trash was mostly contained in bags awaiting collection rather than being strewn all over the landscape. Municipal employees were combing the beaches picking up the remaining bottles and scraps. By the following day Puerto Viejo had resumed its usual pace, with the five-toed sloths on the ground moving not much faster than the two-toed sloths up in the trees.

Safari

Some of the wildlife we encountered in Costa Rica.

Toucan

This species of toucan is called collared aracari. They were flying back and forth across the Puerto Viejo-Manzanillo road. We also saw keel-billed toucans, the beautiful national bird of Belize, but only in captivity.

Two-toed sloth

These creatures earned their name by sleeping up to 18 hours per day and not doing very much in-between. They visit ground level once a week to take care of business.

Armadillo

Ancient mammal species, looks kind of like a bulletproof rabbit.

Blue land crab

These were all over the place in Puerto Viejo. Watch this clip from The Little Mermaid to learn how to deal with crabs in the kitchen.

Stick insect

These critters try very hard to look like a twig. The lady in the picture was our guide on a nighttime wildlife spotting hike in Monteverde. It’s impressive how she even finds these things... She would make an excellent hunter-gatherer.

Blue morpho butterfly

These large butterflies are very common in the cloud forest. The opposite side of the wing, which can only be seen during flight, is an almost fluorescent blue.

Leaf insect

Nice camouflage. Didn’t fool our guide though!

Tarantula

Everyone’s (least) favourite arachnid, even though as spiders go, they’re far from being the most dangerous. They can fire the stinging hairs on their legs for protection. Tarantulas are eaten in some countries - they’re said to taste a little bit like peanut butter.

See more photos from Costa Rica.

A Nicaraguan Fable

Once upon a time there was a great forest, green and lush, rich in fruit trees and teeming with life. The forest was ruled by an cunning old lion. Well actually, the real power lay with a herd of elephants living in the nearby savannah, but the lion had all the forest dwellers collecting fruit for the elephants, so they were quite happy with his rule. The remaining fruit that the elephants didn’t want was given over to the lion’s relatives and courtiers.

Cathedral in Leon

So the elephants were happy and the lions were happy, but elsewhere in the forest there were grumblings aplenty. The animals figured that since they were the ones collecting the fruit, they should be the ones to eat them too. Finally a pack of young tigers rose up to challenge the lion and his cronies. A great war ensued, and in the end the lion was driven from the forest and banished to a barren desert.

The tigers rejoiced, but the troubles of the forest were far from over. The elephants, furious at the betrayal and concerned that the tigers’ rebellion might spread to the savannah, recruited the remaining lions and other forest dwellers who disliked the tigers, and set them about wreaking havoc in the land. They burned down trees, raided the tiger dens, barred forest paths with rocks and debris, and caused all sorts of mischief and mayhem. The tigers responded with increasing aggression, causing further damage to the forest and punishing anyone they considered too friendly with the lions and elephants.

Sandinista banner, Isla de Ometepe

The vicious cycle continued for quite some time. The residents of the forest grew tired of the disturbance, and eventually so did the elephants. A meeting of the herd was called, and it was decided that harassment of the tigers must stop. But some elephant elders were determined to drive the tigers out, continuing to plot attacks and disruptions in the forest unbeknownst to their brethren. When this was discovered, there was a huge outcry throughout the land, and the elders were forced to quit their involvement. A handful of them were banished to the desert.

These days, the forest is free to manage its own affairs, but years of animosity have taken their toll. The once lush landscape is decimated, and the animals find it difficult to cooperate, spending much of their time blaming each other for the sorry state of affairs. At least there is peace though, and the old wounds are beginning to heal. Even the elephants have begun venturing back into the forest, hoping to fix some of the damage they helped cause, and perhaps bring home a few baskets of delicious fruit.

(Note: the above version of Nicaraguan history during the Cold War is oversimplified and unfair to all parties involved. Read up on the real thing - it’s a great story with important lessons)

Cloud forest, volcan Mombacho

Currency Rundown

Seven countries in Central America, plus Mexico, makes for plenty of numismatic joy.

Mexico

Currency: Peso. Means “weight” in Spanish.
Symbol: “$”
Yup, same symbol for peso as for dollar, which can be confusing. Some people reportedly take advantage of the confusion to (drastically) overcharge unobservant tourists.
Rough conversion to USD: divide by 100, multiply by 7.

Guatemala

Currency: Quetzal. Named after a much beloved, rarely seen bird.
Symbol: “Q”
Rough conversion to USD : divide by 8.

Belize

Currency: Belize dollar, though U.S. dollars are accepted everywhere.
Symbol: “$” or “BZ” or “BZD”. Usually pronounced “Belize” in conversation.
Conversion to USD: pegged to the U.S. dollar at 2 BZD = 1 USD. An endless source of confusion when prices are quoted. U.S. bills are everywhere, and the locals are very adept at mixed-currency calculations.

Honduras

Currency: Lempira. Named after the indigenous war hero who was ultimately captured and killed by the Spanish.
Symbol: “L”
Rough conversion to USD: divide by 20.

Precolumbian sculptures, Granada

Nicaragua

Currency: Cordoba. Named after the Spanish conquistador and founder of the nation. U.S. dollars are also legal tender, i.e. dollars are accepted everywhere in the country. The dual currency coupled with an unintuitive, fluctuating exchange rate means that calculators are a big industry in Nicaragua.
Symbol: “C$” or “C” or a symbol produced by writing “C” and “$” on top of one another.
Rough conversion to USD: divide by 25.

Costa Rica

Currency: Colon (Spanish rendition of “Columbus”)
Symbol: “₡”
Rough conversion to USD: divide by 500. All prices are three digits and up - a real problem when your Spanish language numeracy is limited to two digits.

El Salvador

Currency: The Salvadorean currency (also named Colon) was phased out in 2001. U.S. dollars are used exclusively.

Panama

Currency: Balboa. Named after another Spanish conquistador.
Symbol: “B” or “B/”
Conversion to USD: pegged to the U.S. dollar at 1 Balboa = 1 USD. There are no Balboa bills, and U.S. bills are used exclusively. There are Balboa coins however.

Fun fact: Nicaragua and Honduras both claim the title of “second-poorest nation in the western hemisphere”. For the moment Nicaragua is winning, but it’s a close call. The number one spot isn’t contested - Haiti won’t be losing that distinction anytime soon.

Granada and Lago de Nicaragua, from La Merced

Here Come the Gringos, Yet Again

In 1524 the Spanish founded Granada on the shore of Lago de Nicaragua, and for the past 500 years they’ve been fighting off one English-speaking invasion after another. Something about Granada seems to attract gringo adventurers and bandits like a magnet.

In 1665 the pirate Henry Morgan sailed into the city with six canoes, emptied the treasury and set fire to the buildings. William Dampier arrived overland in 1685 and burned the place to the ground. British Caribbean forces tried and failed to take the city in 1762 and again in 1780.

Cathedral in Granada

The most famous incident is William Walker’s 1855 filibustering campaign. Walker, an American, was called in by the rulers of Leon to help fight their rivals in Granada. He sailed into Granada and took it handily, then proceeded to take Leon too and declare himself president of Nicaragua. The following year he tried to expand his rule into Costa Rica, but the governments of Central America had had enough, and a combined force was dispatched to drive him out. Walker’s last act before retreating from his seat of power in Granada was (surprise, surprise) to burn the city to the ground.

The latest gringo invaders in Granada are not as inclined to light fires, unless it’s at the ends of their cigarettes. There’s a higher ratio of whites-to-latinos in central Granada these days than in many parts of the United States. Most are just passing through, but a significant number are there to stay. They’re starting businesses, or consulting, or volunteering, or retiring, or escaping whatever needs escaping.

Old Indians and Iguanas

We took a cooking class in Leon, learning to prepare Indio Viejo (old indian). The name allegedly originates from the time of Spanish conquest, when the soldiers of Spain would see the indigenous people cooking a feast and invite themselves to join in. The villagers, looking to get rid of the unwanted guests, would explain that grandpa had recently passed away, and today the “old indian” is to be served for dinner. That was enough to convince the Spaniards to seek nourishment elsewhere.

Making tortillas in Sutiava, Leon

A curious sort of stew, Indio Viejo involves boiling beef then whacking it to pieces with a large rock, browsing the garden for pea-sized chillies, dissolving plenty of masa (corn dough) in hot water, and adding plantains, tomatoes, onions and spices. The result is tasty, but it lodges itself in the stomach like a concrete slab. The element of the recipe that we’ll take home is the blend of spices - a combination of sour oranges, mint and achiote (similar to paprika). It’s unique and delicious, and should work well in other dishes too.

The other option on the menu for the day was a dish of iguana. It involves buying a live iguana in the market, butchering it at home and cooking the pieces. It would be interesting to try iguana sometime, but we’d rather have someone else do the processing. It was fun to play with the live iguanas in the market though. Iguanas are used for food throughout Central America, and some species have been hunted to the point where they are now endangered, but the ones sold in the markets are commercially farmed.

Iguanas for sale at the market in Leon

Getting Wet

Of the seven hostels and hotels we stayed at in Nicaragua, not one was equipped with hot running water. This wasn’t much of a problem in April - everywhere we went was hot and sticky, and the lukewarm water coming out of the shower was just what we needed. But it would have been a bummer in December. Even in this part of the world, an occasional hot shower isn’t too much to ask for. Before Nicaragua, we had hot water almost everywhere.

But while Nicaragua is lacking in the shower department, it makes up for it with plenty of good swimming.

Laguna de Apoyo

Laguna de Apoyo

What: a good-sized lake in an ancient volcanic crater.
Beach: mostly rocks and bush, planted grass in some areas.
Water: kept warm by submerged thermal vents. Soooo nice.
Views: blue above, blue below, a strip of green (the crater lip) in-between.
Access: 30 minute drive from Granada. Daily shuttles from hostels in the city.
Amenities: at Monkey Hut, $6 buys lounge chairs, shade, washrooms, inner tubes, kayaks, floating platforms and picnic tables. Drinks and pizza are extra.

Complejo Turistico, Granada

Isletas de Granada

What: Granada’s “if you build it, they will come” lakefront development.
Beach: nice black sand with bits of garbage poking through here and there.
Water: can be choppy, which is fun. Probably not very clean, but doesn’t seem to be toxic.
Views: good view of the lake and volcan Mombacho in the background.
Access: cheap taxi or a quick stroll from the town centre.
Amenities: all the fried fish and overpriced beer you can consume.

P and B’s indoor-outdoor pool, Granada

What: we invited ourselves to stay over with friends in central Granada. Their little courtyard pool is perfect for an afternoon dip.
Beach: upstairs balcony for drying out afterwards.
Water: nice and warm.
Views: cute little tropical garden with glimpses of the kitchen beyond.
Access: must have the right connections :-)
Amenities: hammocks, hot showers, yoga classes.

Playa Santo Domingo, Isla de Ometepe

Playa Santo Domingo, Isla de Ometepe

What: Ometepe’s main sandy beach. Can be crowded on weekends, otherwise deserted.
Beach: soft, clean black sand.
Water: same as Granada but without the sewage.
Views: not one but two volcanoes rising just beyond the beach.
Access: bus service on Ometepe is infrequent and a bit erratic. Time the trip just right, or get a bike or motorbike, or splurge on a taxi, or hitchhike.
Amenities: pretty good fish at pretty good prices.

Santa Cruz, Isla de Ometepe

Volcan Concepción from Santa Cruz, Isla de Ometepe

What: an out-of-the way place even by Ometepe standards, but with a few places to stay.
Beach: rocks and tree branches. There’s rumored to be sand nearby, but we didn’t go looking.
Water: same as in Santo Domingo.
Views: wide-open views of volcan Concepción.
Access: we had to cross a barbed-wire fence.
Amenities: mosquitoes, spiders, perhaps a snake or two if you’re lucky.

Playa Maderas and Playa Majagual, near San Juan del Sur

Playa Majagual

What: popular hangouts for surfers and other lazy bums.
Beach: sparkling clean white sand.
Water: could be a bit warmer, but much better than trying to swim the pacific in Canada.
Views: sand and waves and surfer chicks.
Access: 30-minute drive from San Juan, shuttles available.
Amenities: board rentals, burgers, nachos, cold beer.

Town beach, San Juan del Sur

San Juan del Sur

What: dozens of moored boats in front, Nicaragua’s surfing capital behind, massive waves, and a 24-meter Jesus keeping watch from above (specifically, from a hilltop to the north).
Beach: wide and sandy and cleaned daily.
Water: cool and salty. Some waste from the town unfortunately.
Views: great sunsets, good people-watching, and did we mention the 24-meter Jesus?
Access: get to San Juan del Sur and just follow the crowds.
Amenities: not a hint of shade unless you bring your own. Many expensive seafood restaurants and one decent ice cream joint.

See more photos from Nicaragua.

Plenty of transportation talk in this post, for some reason. Let’s roll…

Background

Honduras is Central America’s flyover state. A number of people had explained to us that there isn’t much to do in Honduras unless you’re a diver. Predictably, these were people who skipped the country themselves, either by riding the bus straight through or by actually flying over.

Finca El Cisne

A better way to summarize Honduras is that it’s Guatemala with the volume turned down. There is indigenous culture, but it’s less accessible; the mountains tend to be covered in forest rather than pumice and lava; there is a major Maya site, but only one; the colonial edifices aren’t as grand, the roads are a little less crazy, the villages are just as poor but not as colourful. So given the choice, Guatemala is probably the place most people ought to go. But on this trip, we didn’t have to choose.

Making Love in a Canoe

In Guatemala, SalvaVidas is a popular brand of bottled water. In Honduras, SalvaVida is a popular brand of locally brewed beer. But don’t worry too much about confusing the two, since the taste is pretty much the same! :-)

Relaxing at D&D Brewery

Actually, SalvaVida isn’t a bad beer. At least it doesn’t taste like the corn it’s made of, like some other brands. But since none of the local brews really satisfy our discerning palate, we tracked down a few expat-run microbreweries that serve the real thing. One of them, D&D Brewery near Lago de Yojoa, was our first destination in Honduras.

Aside from being a brewery D&D is also a restaurant and a guesthouse, and we were planning to spend the night there after a long day of travel from Belize. In the seat behind us on the final leg of the journey sat a young Hondureño who has achieved quite a lot in his 23 years on this earth: he emigrated to the United States, married, had a daughter, separated from his wife, got in trouble with the authorities, was deported from the country, went back in, and got deported again. He is now barred from entering the USA and visiting his family.

Our new friend passed the time by pointing out for us every town, bridge and factory along the way. He had some doubts about our destination, however - “I hope he’ll take you in, it’s crazy there now. My cousin says [the owner] is selling his fridge, he’s closing the place and leaving town”. Oops, we thought. We had taken a bit of a risk by arriving after dark at a relatively isolated destination without a confirmed reservation. If D&D has shut down, we would need to improvise. But when we got there the music was playing, the beer was flowing, and Robert the owner was surprised to hear that his successful business is closing down after less than a year in operation.

View of Lago de Yojoa, from Las Nalgas

It turns out that the previous owner, also named Robert, left behind no less than four defunct refrigerators, which the new Robert was now trying to offload. Nevertheless, by morning the next day everyone in town had already heard that Robert was selling his fridge and moving away. We hope the rumour can be quelled before it ends up in next year’s guidebooks, which would be very bad for business.

¿Wabla Ehpañol?

Despite a second week of Spanish lessons in Copán, we’ve had more difficulty communicating in Honduras than anywhere else on this trip. They drop their S’s, they mangle the remaining consonants, and they fire the resulting garble at 300 words per minute. Curiously, the women are much easier to understand than the men - Hondureños (a.k.a. Catrachos) seem to be speaking in two distinct, gender-specific dialects.

Carlos and his coffee crop, finca El Cisne

Utila: Traffic

We met Geoff, Kirsten and their two girls on the ferry going to the island of Utila. The reason why they were on the ferry is that their flight to the island the previous day had to turn back. The flight had to turn back because the runway was blocked by an unexpected aircraft belonging to one of the drug cartels. These landings are not uncommon in Utila, and neither are the follow-up visits by balaclava-wearing national police in full combat gear.

Nearly sunset, Utila

When it’s not serving as a cocaine conduit, Utila is a great little island to visit. Everyone knows it’s the cheapest place to learn to dive in the western hemisphere, but it is also one of not too many places where you can visit a pristine reef straight off the public beach - no boats, no park fees, no fancy all-inclusive resorts. The resorts are all on the neighbouring island of Roatán, which has far better beaches than Utila but is more of a cruise ship / package holiday destination, with shopping malls and taxi queues and scenic charter flights. In contrast, Utila has very little going on besides diving and fishing. Which raises the question, why is it always so noisy?!

Pumpkin Hill, Utila

Utila suffers from a bad case of Motorized Island Syndrome. Although there are only two streets, and neither of them is very long, they produce noise and traffic like it’s a California freeway. Some people apparently enjoy nothing more than riding their motorcycle or ATV back and forth all day. The visitors are contributing to the problem, but the locals are the worst offenders. So boys and girls: if you’re not handicapped and not transporting some kind of heavy load, PLEASE consider going self-propelled. It takes less than five minutes to cross the populated part of the island from end to end by bicycle (we timed it). You’ll be saving your money and saving the island. Think about it.

Hair-snorkel tangle of doom!

Journeys to Remember

The Centroamerican Classic: Leaving Utila on the morning ferry, we had planned to make it to Tegucigalpa and continue onward almost to the Nicaraguan border that same day. We knew it’ll be a long journey; we had no idea how. The ferry was bouncing and tilting like crazy, and those passengers who had had their breakfast were trying hard to keep it down. Meanwhile, a large truck carrying boxes of Corona Extra had overturned near Tela, blocking the highway for many hours. Cleanup work was slow, because many of those who showed up on the scene were helping themselves to the spilled product. Our bus, originally scheduled to arrive in Tegucigalpa at 15:00, finally reached the city around 19:00. We were diverted to an alternative terminal on the outskirts of the city, since the usual terminal is located in a part of town that no one wants to be in after dark.

Streets of Copan by night

The Downhill Slalom: Copán is one of those places that have kept their colonial-style cobbled streets. A “cobbled street” in Copán is basically a jumble of rounded rocks arranged on a steep incline and glued together with cement. They’re a maintenance nightmare and provide almost no traction - even traversing them on foot can be tricky. Now consider that the vehicle of choice in Copán is the red-and-white mototaxi, three-wheeled scooters with tyres that could fit on a skateboard and have not been replaced since the end of the Cold War. The result is a form of transportation more akin to skiing than to driving - the taxis zigzag across the road, barely swerving around pedestrians, trucks and other taxis. Luckily the brakes still work, and the drivers seem to be paying attention, so crashes are rare.

Mototaxi, Copan

The Ironman: Our guidebook says that the road from Copán to Luna Jaguar hot springs requires 4WD in wet weather. But hey, it’s the dry season, right? Long story short, the van became hopelessly stuck, was eventually pulled up and out of the swamp by a composite team of Hondureño cowboys and amused gringos, and everyone spent the next three days cleaning mud from their clothing, footwear, hair, and various orifices.

The Unlikely Escape: In retrospect, it’s not clear why there was so much excitement for the annual “rave” at Pulhapanzak falls. Sure, it’s one of the largest electronic music events in Honduras, but that isn’t saying much. Anyway, D&D Brewery declares DEFCON 1, the place shuts down and everyone piles into the van for a night of hard partying. Less than two hours later, most of us have had enough of the uninspired house music, warm domestic beer, and sparse crowds of local youths trying to muster some excitement. We decide to head back, but that means hitchhiking, since the earliest organized ride to D&D was many hours away. Five gringos stranded in the Honduran countryside trying to catch a ride in the middle of the night, what could possibly go wrong?

Back road, Los Naranjos

After a short while, two large flatbed trucks stop by. Get in, says the driver of the second truck. In where? We ask, can we all fit in the cabin? No, he says, get in the back. Five gringos now surfing a flatbed truck up and down the hills, holding on to metal bars and giant greasy chains to keep from falling out. At some point the two trucks stop again, and an attractively dressed young lady, hitherto unseen, pops out of the cabin of our truck and disappears into the other. Huh, we think, at least somebody is having a good time tonight.

Luna Jaguar hot springs

In the end, the driver steers off the main road and onto the dirt track leading to D&D, dropping us off right at the entrance. For a second it seemed like he might bust through the gate and drive straight into the swimming pool.

Busing

Most of our travel in these parts is done by bus. Central America isn’t very big, so most trips are just a few hours long, but on occasion we’ve had to spend a large chunk of the day in a seat designed to ferry American children to school back in the eighties. That is, assuming we can get a seat.

Fun with guacamayas, Macaw Mountain bird park, Copan

The bus system is actually very well organized, in a chaotic sort of way. Everyone knows exactly what to do and how to behave. The driver’s job is to drive, and also to sound the horn as deemed necessary (i.e. all the time). The busiest person on the bus is the driver assistant, whose job description includes passenger recruitment, ticket sales, hauling luggage to and from the roof, opening and closing doors and windows, pointing out the correct stop for clueless westerners, and crossing the highway to fetch drinks and snacks for the driver, often while the bus is still in motion. In addition, no chicken bus would be complete without a rotating crowd of vendors traversing the aisle with banana chips, or coconut water, or cookies, and so forth.

When the bus becomes crowded (which is always), the passengers will often sit three to a side. The seating was designed to accommodate two children, which means the third person will have a small slice of their bum on the seat and the rest in the air. The buses are a personal-space-free zone: the manoeuvres required to get on or off would probably qualify as sexual assault in some countries. Yet no one ever gets mad or starts a fight, and everyone makes it to their destination, eventually.

Ruins of Copan

The following poem, published(?) a few years ago at Lago Atitlan, captures the essence of chicken-bus travel. Somehow it never went mainstream, but it did find its way into a Guatemalan Master’s thesis in anthropology titled “Spiritual Tourism in Postmodern Times”. Enjoy!

CHICKEN BUS
by Dave

Wake up early shining shoes, afternoon I sell cashews
All day long in the park I work my ass off dawn ‘til dark
Time to go home I don’t make no fuss I take that..
Chicken Bus

Sixty makin’ room for more, people hanging out the door
I ain’t got no seat…who’s steppin’ on my feet?!
I grab on to the bar I scream and cuss I’m on that..
Chicken Bus

Baby screamin’ at the gringo, throw your trash right out the window
Pay the man twenty Q, all the locals just pay TWO
You got ripped off I guess you must be on that..
Chicken Bus

Learn to sleep while I stand, open my eyes here comes a van,
Oh my God we’re gonna die, ”Jesus con Migo” we survive
Can’t believe I nearly bit the dust on that..
Chicken Bus

Guate Guate, Pana too, Chichi Chichi we love you,
May be chickens, may be none, but getting there is half the fun
Where it stops you can’t discuss you’re on that..
Chicken Bus

Hey amigo, cuanto cuesta? Por favor no me molesta!
Un buen precio para ti, mas dinero para mi,
No sabemos donde vas, pero estamos en el
Chicken Bus!!

(thanks to Guy Levit, who forwarded us this little gem back in the days when we didn’t know a tortilla from a tortuga)

More photos from Honduras here.

Silk Cayes

Background

Belize - we barely knew of its existence until recently, but we’re not the first to fail to notice that it’s there. When the Spanish were colonizing what is now Latin America they missed a few spots, and the British wasted no time moving in. Belize is one of those spots. It somehow managed to remain British through the centuries, and finally became independent in 1981. The tiny population of 280,000 is a mix of Caribbean Creoles who speak a lovely broken English dialect, Spanish-speaking mestizos, Maya, Garifuna, German-speaking Mennonite farmers from Canada, Chinese shop owners, descendents of white settlers, some expats, and everyone else who ever washed up on the shore here.

Beach time, Placencia

Politically stable and very beautiful, Belize might have been a tropical paradise. Unfortunately, every few years it is flattened by hurricanes and has to be rebuilt more or less from scratch. Local industry is almost nonexistent, corruption is common, and much of the country is rather poor. Costs for travellers are a bit higher than elsewhere in the region, which keeps many backpackers away. Big resorts haven’t taken over all the good spots yet, but there’s little regulation to stop them, so visit now before it becomes a patchwork of golf courses surrounded by high fences.

British influence certainly makes it unique in the region. Everyone speaks English, so chatting up the locals is much easier. In addition to tortillas and frijoles you can get meat pies and ginger beer. And best of all, most of the roads are paved!

Itinerary

Punta Gorda

What is it: dusty, semi-derelict beach town in the deep south, strangely reminiscent of Ein Hatchelet where Ron’s father grew up.
Things to do: free chocolate factory tour with tastings (see below).
Colourful characters: troops of Western volunteers hitting the town for some R&R after roughing it in the surrounding villages.
Watch out for: open storm drains. It’s very easy to fall in.

Belizean chicken bus, Punta Gorda

Placencia

What is it: small resort town which happens to also be a functioning community. Pastel-coloured houses, coconuts, good bars, and miles of deserted beach.
Things to do: relax on the beach, go snorkeling or sailing.
Colourful characters: Omar, who makes great seafood in his restaurant but every once in a while gravely insults a client. Ten years ago he had a run-in with a new Placencia resident, and to this day the two are not on speaking terms.
Watch out for: the Lonely Planet guide, which for some reason chose to heap scorn on Placencia, describing it as “an upper crust New England village transported to the Caribbean”, “where tourists come to [...] drive around in golf carts holding bottles of beer at 10 in the morning”. In contrast, they had only good things to say about Caye Caulker, even though the latter is more touristy, the residents aren’t as friendly, and virtually everyone drives around in golf carts.

Placencia seaside

Dangriga

What is it: Garifuna town, one of the larger settlements in Belize at 10,000 inhabitants.
Things to do: very little, as far as we could tell.
Colourful characters: tend to hang out at the drum-making workshop close to the beach, at a spot known as Why-Not Island.
Watch out for: bittaz (see below).

Caribbean architecture, Dangriga

San Ignacio

What is it: prosperous little town near the western border with Guatemala.
Things to do: visit Maya ruins, go on a cave tour.
Colourful characters: John from J&R’s guesthouse, seemingly the only Belizean to be really excited about Belize.
Watch out for: five-way intersection in the centre of town swarming with overeager taxi drivers.

Rock formations and Maya artifacts, ATM cave

Orange Walk

What is it: “Sugar City”, farming service town in the north.
Things to do: see the ruins at Lamanai, visit what is probably Belize’s only bubble tea shop.
Colourful characters: Carlos - born in a cemetery in Algeria, ex-Foreign Legion, ex-lawyer, ex-Quebecois, currently serving up humongous pizzas and chatting up every client who comes to his restaurant.
Watch out for: the panaderia, while quite good, is not above selling yesterday’s baking to hungry backpackers.

Ruins of Lamanai

Blue Creek

What is it: Mennonite farming community near the Mexican border.
Things to do: if staying at the Hillside (the only organized accommodation in town): play pool with the owners, sample their blackberry wine, swing in the mechanical hammock.
Colourful characters: everyone there is Mennonite, isn’t that colourful?
Watch out for: Sunday. Absolutely nothing happens on Sunday (except church), nowhere to buy food, no way in or out unless you have a car.

Rural Belize, view from Blue Creek

Caye Caulker

What is it: small touristy island an hour out from Belize City. The country’s only backpacker hangout.
Things to do: go snorkeling, watch an outdoor movie, watch hockey games in the sports bar, rent a bicycle and ride to the far end of the island (about 10 minutes).
Colourful characters: the “go slow” police - they’ll call you out if they catch you attempting so much as a brisk walk.
Watch out for: some locals who are by now thoroughly jaded and a little mean.

Snorkel trip off Caye Caulker

Fertility Food

Perhaps because there are so few Belizeans, they seem to be preoccupied with creating more. Conch meat is known here as “baby food”, since supposedly it helps produce babies. Then there’s a vile Garifuna concoction known as bittaz (bitters?), which “cleans out your system” and is recommended for women who are trying to conceive. It tastes like cheap liquor and doesn’t even give you an alcohol buzz.

Sampling bittaz in Dangriga. Ugh!

The Mennonites are certainly doing their part for population growth. Our host John in Blue Creek had ten children and 38 grandchildren at last count. One of the grandkids visited briefly while we were staying over:

J: “Meet K. She’s the eldest of my grandchildren”
K: “No, I’m not.”
J: “Oh right, there are two older ones...”
K: “Four.”

The Chocolate Factory

One of our first stops in Belize was a chocolate factory in Punta Gorda. “Factory” is a big word for an operation that could have easily fit in a suburban kitchen. The cacao beans are sourced from a single farmer, and a batch of around 500 chocolate bars is produced every three days. Here is the process in pictures:

Cacao beans after drying and fermentation

Beans are ground in a medium-sized pot. The grinder blade is hooked up to an electric drill.

After grinding, the thin peels around the beans are disposed of via blow dryer.

Beans are roasted in a household toaster oven. They used to have a specialized oven, but it broke down, and the toaster serves just fine.

The industrial blender is the one piece of equipment that looks like it belongs in a “factory”.

Chocolate bars are formed in an air-conditioned chamber which is kept “very cold” by Belizean standards - about 18˚C.

Fresh chocolate. Tastes amazing!

Show Me the Malaria!

Is there malaria in Central America? Glad you asked! But the answer varies depending on who you ask. Aside from occasional dengue outbreaks, none of the tropical diseases is an outright epidemic around here, and some travellers simply don’t worry about it - they receive no vaccinations, take no precautions against insect bites, and for the most part they return home healthy and happy.

Cockscomb Wildlife Sanctuary, view from Ben's Bluff

Others (such as us) have a lower tolerance for risk. Before leaving on this trip we stopped by the travel clinic in Vancouver for a complete briefing and vaccine checkup. The doctor, a travel professional who clearly knows her Nicaraguas from her Costa Ricas, pulled out a set of detailed country maps showing areas with malaria risk. She cross-checked them against our itinerary and determined how long we’ll be travelling in the “malaria zone”. She then prescribed chloroquine tablets - a cheap, effective pill with no side effects apart from a horrendous aftertaste that makes you want to vomit.

Solitary mangrove, Placencia

We did some digging online and discovered that the doctor’s maps are issued by Britain’s National Health Service. The American Center for Disease Control publishes its own set of maps, and guess what - they’re not the same at all!

What’s a responsible traveller to do? We decided to stick to the good doctor’s instructions. Out of curiosity, we asked some other travellers what advice they had received. An Israeli couple on a similar Central America traverse consulted two different experts back home, and the experts were in agreement: there is no malaria risk in the region, no protection is required. A German volunteer on a three-month stint in the jungles of southern Belize (a “high-risk” area according to NHS and CDC) had received similar advice from her doctor: no malaria risk, end of story.

Is there a lesson here? Perhaps only that risk assessment is hard.

The Flag

Belizean flag

Explanation of the Belizean flag, provided by a rather drunk local in San Ignacio:

The blue represents the party that was in power when Belize gained independence. The red stripes represent the opposition. The tree is mahogany, staple of the timber industry that got the colony started. The two men are woodcutters: the mestizo with his axe, the black man with his oar. The Latin motto translates as “in the shade we flourish”, which some Belizeans take to mean they should lie down and avoid doing any work.

See more photos from Belize

Bonus album: Signs of Belize