Flying Central America

The End

2007-03-04T03:07:00Z

(Until the next trip that is.)

The last chapter of our adventure began with an early taxi ride to the airport. The paperwork for our last country exit was incredibly smooth sailing and for the first time we weren't charged any airport fees. Although a "tip" was suggested (but we failed to take the hint). With a strong wind on our tail, we dashed to the border to be reunited with Laredo's friendly customs officers.

Crossing the border--south of the river is Mexico and at the top the Laredo airport is visible.

Our pessimistic expectations were met when our customs officer said, "you better come inside, this could take a while". We were left in a large, empty waiting area, while the officers were searching the manual for Eitan's "special" needs. Finally by lunch time they made up some paperwork and let us go--we were officially back in the land of the free and free to fly!

Unfortunately, it was now too late and too far to fly all the way back to Albuquerque. So we settled for Midland, Texas, which doesn't sound like much, but boasts the childhood home of George W Bush. We wanted to sleep in it, but eventually stayed at a Days Inn (the fanciest hotel we'd seen in two months). And for once we didn't have to get to the airport in a rush the next morning. In fact, we got a bit delayed by the very windy and hazy weather. But by 2pm we were homeward bound. And after three hours of turbulence, the familiar sight of Albuquerque came into view.

We touched down at about 5pm, very excited and relieved to be back (but shocked by the cold). Amazing to think that we just spent two entire months traveling. This little Cherokee carried us 5,511 nautical miles (65 flight hours altogether) without fail. It can now receive the rest it deserves, until the urge to fly tickles us again.

Hello and goodbye, Mexico

2007-03-01T20:19:00Z

The last week of the trip has come and is flying by. We've obtained permission for flying into the US tomorrow, which will officially end our foreign affairs (assuming they ever let Eitan back in, which is always another adventure).

Monday morning, we woke up bright and early (well, early anyway) and flew across the Pacific from El Salvador to Tapachula, Mexico. Immigration and customs were so blazingly fast and efficient there that it was all done before we could say "horchata!". So we refueled the airplane and ourselves and flew to our next stop, Villahermosa, the capital of the Tabasco region.

Like its name suggests, it is a beautiful city indeed, rich with parks, water, and impressive architecture. We spent an oppressively hot day walking through most of it, and spent a few hours in La Venta park. The park is a unique concept, combining archaeological remains from the region, a botanical garden, and a zoo, all of local species. Even though it is located in the middle of the busy city, it is cleverly designed to mask all the noise and traffic away from the visitor. Next to the park is a walkway by a lagoon, where we climbed a 17-story Mirador (tower). At least it felt like 17 stories by the buckets of sweat we left behind, all to bring you this picture:

The next day, Wednesday, we continued our trip north in a long flying day: eight hours in the airplane (with a fuel stop in Poza Rica). We are now in Monterrey, the most affluent Mexican city, and only an hour away from our favorite American border town, Laredo. Everything feels like we're almost in America already, with the food and hotel chains, the glitzy malls, contemporary public art and humongous government buildings, like this one:

So with this, we salute our goodbyes to the Mexican flag, and the rest of Latin America, and return tomorrow to the land of Starbucks, hot water showers and working toilets. We still have several hurdles to cross, including the relentless brave officials at the US border, and many hours of flying to get back to Albuquerque. We'll tell you all about these last few adventures in the next blog entry, that will likely conclude our trip.

The bus stops here

2007-02-25T20:06:00Z

After 12 hours of bus rides in four days, we're ready to fly again. It took four hours to return from Panajachel to "Guate" (mostly because the bus stops everywhere). Another four hours to bring us back to San Salvador, and then another four hours two days later, to get us to the beach and back. (This time, the chicken bus actually carried chickens, and a squirrel). Needless to say, we don't want to see, hear, or smell another bus again.

The beach we went to, El Zonte, was the first time we actually swam in the Pacific. It wasn't so pacific (in fact, it's famous among surfers), but it was peacefully devoid of tourists. Instead, there were hundreds of little Hermit crabs scurrying across the black sand.

We enjoyed our last beach day of the trip, as well as the penultimate trip week by taking it easy. We've been spending some time with Ana and Eugenio and visited their new place in Suchitoto, a beautiful sleepy town by the Suchitlan lake.

In San Salvador, we visited both the busy, noisy street markets in the downtown area to the glittery, air-conditioned mall in the affluent part of town. This is the most Americanized experience in this trip (save perhaps the Walmart in Playa del Carmen). By this time next week, if the weather cooperates, we should be back in the States, where fancy coffee shops are the norm, not the exception. It's probably all Central American coffee anyway, that's too expensive to sell in Central America. And with a little luck, we'll be in Mexico by lunchtime tomorrow. Adios!

From Gringocastenango to Chichicastenango

2007-02-18T23:15:00Z

It's time for the chicken bus again. This time it was a minibus version: more touristy, more expensive, but just as crowded and death-defying. Saturday morning we took the bus to Panajachel, also fondly known as Gringocastenango (guess why?). This small town on the shore of the magnificent lake Atitlan only has two kinds of people: buyers and sellers. The sellers, all local, persistently offer their local trinkets to buyers, who are naturally all foreigners, and everyone's happy. But there's more to see in this town than traditional garments: The lake Atitlan, nestled by three tall volcanoes in a mile-high caldera. Sweeping views and deep blue water make this the second most visited attraction in Guatemala (after Antigua). Here, judge for yourself:

The other attraction in the area (and possibly the third most visited site) is the nearby town of Chichicastenango. And when we say nearby, we mean few kilometers, not few gut-wrenching cliff-hanging nauseating minutes on a chicken bus. Chichi is mainly known for its market days, Thursday and Sunday, when villagers from the surrounding areas gather for a colorful chaos. And what do you know, by sheer coincidence or careful planning it was Sunday today, and we partook in this chaos ourselves. It's again hard to describe all the sights and smells and sounds of the market. It's also hard to move about in the market, pushing and shoving among a gazillion locals and foreigners alike. The locals swim effortlessly through the crowds, wearing traditional colorful garments and carrying huge bundles on their heads and tiny babies on their backs.

The tourists move slower, since they are both too polite to shove and too dazed by hordes of peddlers with big eyes and special-for-you prices. But one mustn't be fooled by the special prices--it is a simple matter to get the regular prices, which often are less than half. In fact, most sellers would be dissapointed if you didn't haggle, and might even throw you a better price after you've agreed to pay. There's also a food section, where the locals cook on coal stoves. The menu is pretty much fixed: fried chicken with tortillas, rice, and fries. There's dozens of them standing and patting their tortillas, and if there's a good way to choose among them, it eluded us. So we chose the first one that offered hot chile sauce, and hot it was.

This market is a great place for people-watching, as well as for picking up beautiful handmade woven fabrics, wooden artifacts, leather products, and other regional crafts. If you can take the crowds, pollution, and haggling, the lake and the market are two spots you can't miss in Guatemala.

Western bound

2007-02-16T16:41:00Z

It is time to start our return journey to the U.S. On February 12th we flew out of Bocas all the way to San Salvador, El Salvador (satellite view), making a fuel stop in Liberia (Costa Rica) again. We met Lucinda's friends Ana and Eugenio and brother Pedro, who kindly hosted us and introduced us to the local food delights. If they're a representative sample of El Salvador, this is where we want to retire. But this was only a short stop, preffering to visit Guatemala this week. We'll be back to El Salvador next week. So on Wednesday, we took a nauseating bus ride to Guatemala City, the last capital of our trip. And like any self-respecting Latin capital, it is busy, noisy, dirty, bustling, polluted, hectic, and full of tourist traps. But also rich in colors, tastes, museums, and boasting a beautiful central park, with the traditional governor's palace to the north:

The park is also host to an infinite number of peddlers, boasting everything from fresh fruit, pigeon feed, stand-up comedy, snake handling, and even fresh goat milk, straight from the source. We took a tour of the governor's palace, a monument to the megalomaniac dictoator that built it in the 40s. Nowadays it serves mostly for protocol and as a museum, also housing some commemorations of the civil war and the peace that followed.

In the evening we took a walk down Avenida 6a, an incredibly crowded street where the sidewalks are cramped with stands selling cheap clothes and knock-off DVDs. Last week, we're told, there were violent clashes between the police and these less-than-legal-merchandise sellers. The police were outnumbered, and probably lost.

Looking for a different kind of Guatemalan ambiance, we took a bus on Thursday morning to Antigua. And when we say a bus, we mean something like this:

Small, retired school buses that are used well beyond their capacity and design specifications. Just when you think they're too cramped to board even another child, the bus driver will stop for another family that hails it, encouraging the passengers to squeeze in a little. And squeeze we did--those seats that were designed for two school kids each somehow fit three adults and a chicken each. Fortunately, we're all good friends, since the curves were pretty wild.

We reached Antigua and landed straight at the town's market on a market day. In the best Guatemalan tradition, it was another bustling experience, with the fruits competing with the traditional dresses and buildings for the most colorful. Many of the fruits we couldn't even name.

In contrast to the market, Antigua itself is a lovely, sleepy town, with colorful buildings and cobblestone streets. From what used to be the magnificent Guatemala capital, only crumbling walls of cathedrals and palaces remain, having suffered from a few too many earthquakes. The town in nestled by three volcanoes, filling the air with particles that would challenge even the least asthmatic. Antigua is also the unofficial capital of Spanish language classes, so if you're interested in some classes in the friendliest environment, this is the place to be.

The other side of Panama

2007-02-13T01:42:00Z

This weekend we transformed to water creatures. On Saturday, we hired a boat to take us to a remote beach on a nearby island. It was a beautiful white-sand beach with just us and the little fishes. The water was so shallow we could walk to almost 200 feet from the shore. With our snorkeling gear, we spotted a few sting rays hiding in the sand, a colorful starfish, some fishes, and a few sea cucumbers.

Sunday however was the real water adventure. We booked a boat tour with an eclectic group of other tourists (tip for the next time: avoid the group with its own beer cooler). We were first taken to a bay where dolphins swim from the sea to have their tasty shrimp breakfast. We spotted a few dolphins popping in and out of the water, in singles and in pairs. Every time one was spotted, hordes of tourist boats rushed towards it, scaring it off in the process.

We then proceeded to a snorkeling point in the ocean, where the water depth was about three to six feet. We spent about an hour there, admiring an incredible variety of corals of all shapes and colors. Unfortunately, you´ll have to take our word for it, since we didn't bring a camera on the boat. You'd just have to see it to believe it.

After an overpriced lunch (we had no choice, it was a dock in the middle of nowhere, and the choices were their plates, or the fish below), we were taken to another island. This island's claim to fame are tiny red frogs that really only show up when it rains. It didn't rain today, so we only saw one poor specimen in the torturing hands of a local kid. But we had a gorgeous beach as a consolation prize, and spent some time catching some waves and sun.

The last attraction of the tour was another snorkeling point, with less variety of corals but a larger variety of fish. We started to feel like fish ourselves, swaying in the waves, but we managed to spend an entire day in/on the water without losing our stomach contents.

Besides the wide collection of fish, there was also an interesting collection of people in the island. A mix of Panamans, Caribbeans, indigenous and westerners comprise the population of this tiny island. We got exposed to a part of the Carib culture when a group of them started a musical procession on the main street one evening. In the front were children, dancing and singing in rows, and in the back were the drummers, playing a dozen percussion instruments. They all progressed slowly down the main street, in one long African rhythmic song.

Here's an example of some of the islanders:

The Pan-American shortcut

2007-02-10T01:53:00Z

The main attraction in Panama is also the reason for Panama's existence as an independent country: the Panama Canal. The first attempt to connect the Atlantic and Pacific oceans was by the French in the 19th century, enlisting the famous Count Lesseps to run the project (the dude from the Suez Canal). It took more than 20,000 lives (claimed by cholera and yellow fever) and $200M to declare the project a failure. It nearly drove the entire French nation bankrupt, and was fraught with scandals and corruption. On the bright side, it did lead to some engineering advances, and the discovery that yellow fever is carried by mosquitoes. This last discovery eventually lead to the eradication of the disease in most of Panama.

At the time, Panama was part of the greater Colombia and not an independent nation. When Teddy Roosevelt decided he wanted his own canal project, the Colombians weren't thrilled by the proposed terms. So he "helped" the Panamese to form their own independence, taking in return sovereignty over the entire designated canal area forever. Oh, and he forgot to ask for permission. So good ol' Jimmy Carter in 1977 was left with the unpleasant chore of fixing this mess, and signed a new treaty that gave the Canal back to Panama, on December 31, 1999 (probably hoping the Millennium bug would make it all moot).

So the Americans restarted the Canal construction, in a different site, with different requirements (warship size) and the latest technology of the 20th century, that had just barely started. They completed the project ahead of time and under budget (for the last time), and the Canal was officially opened in 1914, just in time for the new war.

Here is how it works: ships approach from either ocean at sea level. Most of the canal, being over land, is at about 85 feet above sea level. A series of locks and chambers on each end serves as a ship elevator. To lift a ship, it enters a chamber. The chamber is locked and the water level raised by spilling fresh water into it from the next chamber. When the levels in both chambers are equalized, the ship can move to the next chamber. A similar method works for lowering the ship on the other side. All in all, 52 gallons of fresh water flow to either ocean for each ship that passes. Good thing it rains a lot in Panama.

One set of locks, Miraflores, is open to visitors that aren't deterred by the admission fee. We weren't, so we were able to bring you this picture of what the chambers look like as a ship passes:

This cargo ship, built to "panamax size", fits snugly inside each of the chambers, with only about one foot clearance on each side. It's the job of the locomotives on the sides to make sure that the ship doesn't bump against the walls as it propels itself from chamber to chamber. By now you're probably sick of hearing about the canal, but you get to see another picture of the locks anyway, free of charge. This one is from the air:

Yes, there are actually other things to see around Panama City, and we did visit some of them, including museums, an urban rain forest, a botanic garden, some ruins, and the arts & junks market. We did all of those, but if you implore us to bore you with the details, you'll have to do it in person.

This morning, we took off from Panama City and started our long trip back west and north (around 3000 miles total). Not long today though. We flew to an Island on the western border of Panama called Bocas del Toro. It's really hot here on the Atlantic, but from what we hear, we're lucky it's not raining. This island reminds us a little of Roatan, and probably most other Caribbean islands. It's got its own people, accent, and white people buying real estate. Still, it's much less hectic than the last two cities we visited, and crossing a street here is not a death-defying experience. This is what we're expecting to do here for the weekend:

The last isthmus to Sthouth America

2007-02-07T00:24:00Z

Our latest leg takes us to the easternmost point in our trip, a point so far it´s practically in a different continent, past the canal that divides North America from South. On Monday we had a rocky takeoff from the rocky San Jose valley. We climbed above the turbulence, above the mountains, above the clouds and over the Atlantic to reach Panama City (satellite view). We got a magnificent view of the Pacific end of the Canal and the Bridge of the Americas as we lined up for landing.

The next mountains we had to face were mountains of paperwork. We were greeted by a committee of industrious officials from the departments of public health (the infamous $10 squirt of bug spray), police (drug-sniffing Cocker Spaniel), customs (thorough bag inspection), immigration ("fill out this form, and we need to have 17 copies and 23 stamps"), and operations ("please push the airplane to the other side of the airport"). But that's alright, since they asked with a smile.

The city itself seemed as hectic as any other Latin American city, only taller. High-rising building mark the boundaries of the financial district, while crumbling barrios comprise most of the rest.

We took a walk today in the southern part of the City. We passed some docks and an aromatic fish market, where the major clientele consisted of seagulls, vultures, and pelicans.

This part of town also contains many historic buildings, such as the lovely national theater, the crumbling remains of ex-dictator Noriega´s mansion, and a few museums. We visited the too-small emerald museum and too-large Canal museum (how many commemorative coins, stamps, and medals can a single event accrue anyway?). We'll write more about the Canal after we've explored it, but after visiting this museum, we know more than we ever dreamt possible about it's history.

We continued exploring the narrow streets, where crossing a street is always the victory of optimism over reality. The reality of blind-deaf drivers and colorful retired school buses that ignore all traffic rules.

We arrived at Avenida Central, a pedestrian-only area (and therefore slightly safer), where any imaginable junk is sold by any imaginable ethnicity. For us it felt more like a Cuban street, although admittedly neither of us ever saw one. The cultural diversity, that increased as we travelled south and east, seems to have peaked in this city. Perhaps appropriate for the city that connects the two oceans.

Lastly, we visited three little islands that are connected to the mainland by a causeway. In stark contrast to the busy city, everything here was wide-spaced, clean, glittery--and mostly empty. Rows and rows of empty shops seemed to have been constructed for tourists that never came. Nevertheless, it offered a few sunset views of the city and ocean, which signalled our time to return to the relative safety of the hotel.

Veni, vidi, vishnu

2007-02-02T18:49:00Z

We came, we saw, we visited the vegetarian restaurant. On Monday we flew to San Jose (capital of Costa Rica), a short and bumpy ride, and found ourselves in the first big city of this trip (satellite view). Which means plenty of lodging and food choices, museums, entertainment, as well as hectic streets, noise and grime. We have explored most of this city in the past few days, including the main avenue, the city parks, the city zoo and the crowded mercado.

San Jose Correo (post office)

Yesterday, we took a nauseating bus ride up a nearby mountain to peer into the mouth of a still active volcano (Volcán Poás). An impressive sight, although much less of a hike than we had been expecting, especially since our last volcano adventure. The last volcano park was more of a true wilderness experience with all the hiking and the monkeys, here the only wildlife was small, hairy, and loud--children. But Volcan Poas offered an incomparable view at an altitude of 8,000 feet of an active crater with sulfur steam. Being so high, clouds began to roll in as we watched, at times covering the crater-top entirely--a surreal scene.

The crater of Volcan Poas

Today we visited the contemporary art museum and were rewarded with an international show that held up to Lucinda's high expectations for modern art. Housed in an old brewery, the building itself was an aesthetic space that complemented the art within. So Lucinda got her art-high of the week and Eitan didn't seem to suffer too much from the onslaught of minimalism. He did get an onslaught of cold germs though, which is arguably worse.

We plan to spend the rest of the weekend exploring the city, and on Monday, if the weather cooperates, it's Panama time!

Encounters of the Monkey Kind

2007-01-29T01:18:00Z

Today we visited the national park of Rincón de la Vieja, "The Corner of the Old Woman". (And no we don't have any idea why it is named this.) This is a large park on volcanic grounds with a strange mix of forests and savannas. In retrospect, this park should be explored over several days, but we tried to see it all in one. Our legs are still complaining about this exertion.

The first trail took us around various manifestations of volcanic activity: geysers, bubbling mud pools, sulfur steam baths, and other-worldly lagoons. It is hard to capture the full experience of the smells and sounds of this place in a still image, but here's the best we could do:

Since this trail wasn't too strenuous, we optimistically set out on the second, longer trail. And the beginning seemed promising with sights of huge trees, coatis (see Tikal), pig-size rodents, and lots of monkeys. When we paused on the trail one group of monkeys became curious and got very close to us.

However, our enthusiasm for the monkeys began to wane as the trail went on and on. A promised waterfall at the end kept us going, but our muscles threatened to revolt. Nevertheless we marched on so that we could bring you this picture:

. . .it was a nice swim as well. Too bad we still had to trek the two hours back--totaling about seven hours of hiking in rough terrain. We still don't know our destination for tomorrow, but you'll be first to know.

It´s the Caribbean, man!

2007-01-27T00:43:00Z

We left Guatemala for Honduras on a misty morning that turned into a shining afternoon. We overflew Belize again, struggling to understand their accent over the radio. Later, we found out that was actually a relatively light accent. We even saw some mysterious pyramids on the way. Maybe we can claim their discovery, and name them: "Disneytikalutopia". We landed in the port city of La Ceiba, Honduras. The city's main claim to fame, and probably its only one, is that you can get to the Bay Islands from here. Much as we tried to be positive about this city, it's a dump. Except for one colorful little spot - the butterfly museum. A single-room that houses one collector´s passion for all things multi-legged. The retired American school teacher, who collected the many thousands of pinned insects, gave us the tour. He proudly showed us, among critters from all over the world: The largest moth in the world (one foot wingspan), the heaviest beetle in the world (about a quarter pound), and some living things with hairs on them. Here´s a tiny teeny sample:

Still, all bad cities must be abandoned quickly, and we flew out the next morning on the shortest leg of our trip: A mere 39 miles to Roatan, one of Honduras´three Bay Islands (satellite view). Known (to some) as the cheapest spot to dive in the world, it attracts both the penny-pinching backpacker divers as well as the financially-overburdened real-estate bargain tourists. Naturally we stayed with our own kind. We bought a condo. Here it is, right here:

We spent three days at West End village, where the locals speak English, officially. Unofficially, even the English-speakers among us couldn´t really understand a word they were saying. The local Caribbean accent, like the spelling, like the schedules, is all laid-back to a halt. Look hear:

And indeed we went snorklin. At some points, the reef goes up to the shallow water, and we could spot many kinds of fish that just swam right to us, thinking we are the actual spectacle. (Some swimmers were, admittedly). Eitan also went diving, and spotted a Spotted Eagle Ray, porcupine fish, and Ariel the little mermaid.

After three days of beaching, we sadly packed our bags and left Burke´s Place (where every welcome is "worm", but all showers are cold). We flew out on a long, challenging leg that included overflying the Nicaraguan airspace ("actually, we do have a permit, and here's the number"), navigating in the clouds to the stratosphere, dodging active volcanoes, and longing for all the water underneath--first lakes, and then the Pacific ocean. Here´s one volcano near the Nicaragua-Costa Rica border:

At the end of four scorching hours in the airplane, we've arrived in Liberia, Costa Rica (satellite view). So that we´re not deemed judgmental, we´ll reserve judgment to a later entry, but this place is a dump. However, we still hope it´s a good base to explore some of the many nature reserves in this region in the next few days. But for tonight, our plans are limited to the block around our hotel room and its TV.

Where the streets have no name

2007-01-22T02:47:00Z

On Saturday, we traveled to Tikal, the mother of all Mayan cities. The trip itself, in an over-crowded, under-powered "chicken" bus is nothing to write home about--since you don't get the elbow room to write anyway. Fortunately, this was an overcast day with occasional showers, so we were more wet from rain than sweat.

Tikal is a large park, that is unique not only in the sheer size of the compound and the individual ruins, but also because it is located in the heart of a rain forest. The flora and fauna of the jungle can be seen between, around, and sometimes on top of the ruins, and are just as interesting. Among the animals we've seen (or heard) were coatis ( see picture below), many colorful birds, howler monkeys, and a million varieties of bugs. The jaguars remain a rumor and a warning road sign at this point.

This site contains not one, not two, but many pyramids (following the Mayan way of counting), as well as palaces, temples, residential buildings, and your average run-of-the-mill human sacrifice altars. Unlike the rest of North America, the term "liability" hasn't made it this far south, so tourists who should know better are actually allowed to climb on most of the pyramids. Since only one of us know better, the worse half climbed three of these pyramids and brought a few pictures back. Climbing these steep pyramids is really not that bad, all things considered, until you realize you actually have to climb down as well. Oh well, it's excellent step exercise, and the view of the jungle from above is quite impressive.

Today we walked the streets of the neighboring metropolis, Santa Elena. Santa Elena has several interesting organization features: The grid-like streets aren't parallel, and they're pretty much all called Calle 4a (sometimes even 4a Z. for variety). Street name signs are rare, and point at conflicting directions. Traffic, whether pedestrian or motorized, takes the same space and time as everything else, contradicting western physics. But that's ok, since no other rules regarding traffic seem to exist anyway. The worst of this chaos is the town market, where we mixed in easily with the mud, the chicken buses, the endless peddlers, and the numerous "Rolexes". Too bad we are abstaining from raw fruits and vegetables on this trip: some of those in the market were actually quite appealing.

We ended the day having dinner at a youth hostel. A piece of advice for all the progressively-aged people among you: youth hostels are called this way for a reason. We felt absolutely old there.

Coatis in Tikal

Tikal - Pyramid I

Tikal - View from on top of Pyramid V

Santa Elena's market

Goodbye buggies, Hello bugs

2007-01-20T01:22:00Z

In Mexico the food is really Mexican, the chiles ring twice, the speed bumps aren't wimpy, and the roads are full of bugs. VW bugs that is. They used to be produced here in droves and still reign the roads. Within the sea of old buggies a new one can occasionally be spotted.

But all good things must come to an end and yesterday we left the land of buggies behind to enter the land where bugs reign supreme ( the kind that bite).

We left Chetumal on an overcast morning after giving up our Mexican tourist visas and bracing ourselves for another round of stamping and customs in our next destination of Guatemala. A short flight of an hour and a half took us over Belize and then over the amazing sight of the ruins of Tikal from above. (satellite view)

The short flight was followed by surprisingly short paperwork in Guatemala: a few brief but careful inspections of documents later and we were headed to Flores. Flores is a tiny island on the edge of a lake with narrow, colorful streets, many wandering tourists and hordes of predatory local taxis including the strange three-wheeled scooter rickshaws.

Guatemala has a different feel from Mexico, although you wouldn't know it from the language or the menus. Today we took one of those rickshaw taxi on a spine-jarring ride to a local cave system. After happily taking our entrance fee the guard handed us one little flashlight and warned us not to stray too far. He then non-chalantly left us to explore the caves completely alone. We did our best not to get lost in the large cave system, having only our wits and a few bats to guide us. As you can surely figure out, we managed to make it out of the caves and preferred to walk back, having had enough adventures for one day.

Finding Nemo

2007-01-17T20:18:00Z

On Tuesday, we sent our Special Correspondent to Underwater and Bubbly Attractions (SCUBA) to explore the reefs of Playa del Carmen. The camera however was too shy to follow him this deep, so we're left with no proof that the following account is true. The boat traveled the bumpy waters to the first dive site, called Tortugas. True to its name, the underwater scene was buzzing with partying turtles. They went up, they went down, but they mostly stayed in place and completely ignored the divers. Upon returning to the boat, our dauntless captain got sick, lost his breakfast, and abandoned ship. But after 20 minutes on Terra Firma, he felt confident enough to swim back to the boat for the second dive. Probably not a smart idea, but the fish sure did enjoy it.

The second dive site was called Barracuda, and indeed had no barracudas. But it did have beautiful reefs and colorful fishes, and even a few smaller turtles. Content to have survived the experience, we hurried to the bus station so that we could wait. Only an hour late, our bus to Tulum took us about 60km (40m) south to the beautiful town of Tulum. Tulum has a few ruins, a few tourists, and the most beautiful beaches we've seen to date. Really--if you don't believe us, check this out:

Early morning Wednesday, we went to explore the ruins and beaches once more, where we found this iguana:

The shy camera was less apprehensive about going snorkeling, and this is what it brought back:

We've also made some progress with Guatemala. After numerous attempts to raise the officials on the phone, we finally called Guatemala's main flight club (http://www.aeroclubguatemala.com/). They informed us that the DGAC (Guatemala's "FAA") is not answering their phones. But they were generous enough to help us themselves, and obtain a copy of our flight authorization for us. Fortunately, it was exactly as we asked. Unfortunately, it was exactly as we asked: The dates were very specific, but we have been running a little late because of all our weather delays. So sadly, we will part with Tulum two days earlier than desired, and take the bus to Chetumal tonight. Tomorrow is another flight day, and another country. May the paperwork gods shine our way...

Cancun decaf

2007-01-15T02:42:00Z

We are in lazy-bones heaven. On Friday we took a five hour bus ride to Playa del Carmen (only tolerating the long ride with the promise of a beach at the end). Playa is a small town laying along the Caribbean sea. It is divided into two distinct parts--the tourist zone, complete with comforts of home and the Mexican side, which looks like the rest of Mexico that we have seen. This split gives the town a unique and somewhat disjointed feeling--it is hard to believe that Starbucks and a local taco stand can exist on the same street.

Since fleeing our first night's hostel stay (realizing we are way too old for sharing bathrooms with teenagers and staying up all night), we found a charming hotel and prepared to be lazy on the beach. Our only worries now are how much sunscreen to apply (a lot in our case), how to get the sand out of our hair (a losing battle), and where to eat the next meal. We have happily adjusted to this new reality. Despite all this relaxation, we managed a few photographs (so that you can imagine yourself here).

Mexico´s Laredo

2007-01-12T00:47:00Z

We´re at a border town again. Yesterday we flew out of Mérida on a short easy hop to Chetumal. Chetumal lives on the south east edge of the Quintana Roo region in Mexico, bordering with Belize (satellite view). And indeed it did feel different from other Mexican cities: the streets are wider, the people are colder, and the food less interesting. So we decided not to linger very long. On our first evening, we booked a room in a very colorful hotel:

We proceeded to see the entire downtown area in three hours, including a surprisingly good museum on the Maya culture. It was nice to see some history from the confines of an A/C room for a change, and helped us put into context the ruins that we´d seen. Nevertheless, all these early wakeups took their toll, and soon enough we were snoring to the Mayan gods (not in the museum though).

Satisified with all this town has to offer, we experienced a bumpy minibus ride today, going to the small town of Bacalar, 39km (24m) north of Chetumal. Bacalar gained its fame from a colorful lagoon that boasts beautiful shades of blue. Adventurous as we are, we weren´t content with viewing the shoreline through rich people´s house gates, and took a sweltering hike to a hidden gem. A few humid kilometers up the highway is the Cenote Azul: A small and very deep pool of freshwater, carved from the limestone by rainwater over many years. It too shows beautiful blue colors, as captured by our travel photographer:

To verify the actual blueness of the water, we sent our special correspondent to explore the depths with his camera. He returned (eventually) very happy (it was a sticky hike), and reported that the fish were also happy as clams.

The peaceful, serene atmosphere was only disturbed by two inebriated "friendly" Brits, that made tourists from OUR place look respectable-imagine that.

Tomorrow we´re going to blow this hole and take the 4.5 hour bus ride north to Playa del Carmen (and this is the express line). Finally, beaches, sun, umbrella-clad-drinks -- here we come!

Another day, another ruin

2007-01-10T00:43:00Z

The next two days in Merida were pretty laid back. It´s nice to be on the ground for a while. Yesterday was the first time in a week we didn´t actually use an alarm clock, what a joy! We started the day by taking care of laundry. We then found the city market (it´d be a flea market if there was any space left for fleas), and tried to manage not to buy any trinkets, despite mild physical pressure (sometimes we had to resort to pretending that we can´t understand a word). We did buy a Panama hat though, and might actually use it someday. We then toured the downtown area some more and visited a modern art museum. On the positive side, it didn´t cost much. On the negative side, what you pay is what you get. Enough said.

Today we planned to fly out of here, but the overcast, rainy weather had different plans. So instead we took a bus to Uxmal, another magnificent set of Maya Ruins. The bus driver had the typical laid back attitude, so when he missed our exit he just backed out on the highway, and when he was thirsty he just stopped by a kiosk. But he arrived early nevertheless, so we can´t complain. Uxmal was a not as sizeable as Chichen Itza, but seemed more appealing--perhaps because of the lack of half-naked tourists and insistent peddlers. It´s a little hard to describe in words, so how about we let the pictures talk instead? (4x1000=4000 words!)

This is the view as you enter the Uxmal park. This picture does a poor job of portraying the sheer size of this pyramid.

This is the same pyramid as viewed from some distance. It is actually the fifth pyramid built on top of four previous.

A close view of the palace of the governors. Note the intricate carvings on the top.

This is the view from top of the only climbable pyramid in both ruins. It´s a scary torture on the way up, but it´s even worse on the way down.

Sweatin' to the Chichen Itza

2007-01-08T03:35:00Z

The further south we fly, the hotter it gets. For Saturday we planned a relatively long flying day to get to Merida to catch up with Eitan´s friend, that was leaving the next morning. We had to make a fuel stop at Ciudad del Carmen, where we were greeted by half a dozen armed soldiers that cordially inspected the entire airplane for drugs (sniffing dog and all). Do we look like drug-smugglers? we certainly look like tourists... We weren´t in a lingering mood in this airport so we rushed through the requisite hour of paperwork (really, it never ends, and it always involves running back and forth between the same offices to get multiple stamps). We then took off again and flew along a beautiful shoreline and densely green land. We arrived to Merida (satellite image) just in the nick of time, since flying after sunset requires more complicated rules (and indirect routing). Once in Merida we met up with our patient friend for a fancy Italian dinner and a few long-awaited cold beers.

Today we saw the amazing Mayan ruins at Chichen Itza, about 100km east of Merida. Leaving the hotel (a hotel with real towels and beds and all) at 8am we were hot and sweaty in the space of fifteen minutes--this is going to take a little getting used to! About an hour´s car ride later we were stepping onto the clearing of the great pyramid ("El Castillo"), a truly impressive sight. It looks even bigger than this:

Eitan was disappointed to learn that tourists can no longer climb the 91 stairs to the top (and Lucinda was a little relieved), owing to a vertigo-challenged tourist that fell to his death last year (who would have guessed that an American tourist would be the one to ruin the ruins for everyone?). But even without the feat of climbing virtually vertical stairs there was plenty to keep us busy--ogling, sweating and snapping photos, like this one:

It was not shocking to discover that we´re not the only white meat there. A plethora of tourists (and most blondly, German tourists) were soon filling the place and getting magnificent sunburns. What was shocking was that this 1200 year-old sacred site has wireless internet. Go figure.

Cruizin´ Veracruz

2007-01-06T02:33:00Z

Waking up in Mexico would have been much better with a hangover. After a fitful night´s sleep on the world´s thinnest mattress at the infamous Hotel Texas, we were happy to make our way back to the airport hoping to make some progress toward our first long stop of Merida. Surprise, surprise, when we arrived back at the airport we were greeted by two more hours of paperwork (and yes, more stamps). Although, to be fair, we solicited some of it with our insistence on a multi-entry pass to Mexico.

Our plans to reach Villahermosa today were again foiled by tropic weather (on the plus side the temperatures were approaching 85 degrees and making us forget all about the snow in Albuquerque). So we opted instead for a shorter leg to Veracruz (click here to see on Google Maps). The flight was smooth and for the first time we arrived at our destination in daylight. Veracruz immediately struck us as beautiful and inviting (and humid!). After checking into a hotel (this time with a real bathroom and towels), we went out to walk the pier and explore the city before dinner.

Fort, downtown Veracruz

From Laredo Texas to Hotel Texas

2007-01-05T05:53:00Z

The weather finally cleared enough for us to attempt the border crossing. But first, there was a tougher challenge to overcome: Eitan´s special registration. Despite previous assurances that this would not be a problem at Laredo (which was the reason we chose this crossing in the first place), combining special registration and small airplanes was a bit more than our brave brother protectors could handle. They said it´s never been done before, and weren´t quite sure how it can be done.
Hours of phone calls later, they were happy to announce that the problem can be creatively solved: First, we should go to the land border crossing, where special registration is normally done, and then another CBP officer can finalize the process at the airport by watching us leave. A no-brainer.

So we borrowed the crew car and drove to the Rio Grande bridge, through downtown Laredo which looked increasingly more like Mexico, complete with the sounds, smells, language, and most noticeably, the traffic. Finally, we found the right tired old building, and using the secret pass code "I spoke to Agent Reinas", Eitan was able to skip the long standing lines, and go straight to the special room. At least special in the sense that all the other guests were adorned by handcuffs. Very exciting.
Some questioning later, and we were good to go. We rushed back to the airport, two hours late now, only to wait--this time for a stamp. Finally the stamp arrived and was ceremoniously applied to the passport, allowing us to depart--feels like Mexico already! Little did we know that this was just the tip of the stamp-ede.

So only three hours late, at 3pm we took off and headed south. We were on an instrument flight plan, which meant that we were always under radar control and talking to a controller. We were approaching the Mexican border, when all of a sudden--nothing happened! Except for a change in controllers accent, absolutely no changes occurred: no F-16s shot us down, no flurries of hurried warnings came over the radio, no change in scenery--not even a wavering of the airplane (except for the annoying turbulence). This is what it looked like:

After more than four hours of flying and an exciting instrument approach, we landed in Tampico, an industrial city by the Atlantic ocean (click here to see satellite image). We were promptly greeted by a serious-looking entourage of public health officials that were there to ensure we didn´t try to smuggle in any foul-tasting Gringo food. Once they were satisfied (or at least stopped frowning), we were handed off to a series of hard-working officials with immigration, customs, flight-ops, and maybe one or two more helpful souls. All the officials shared two traits: they all went out of their way to be helpful and efficient (within the system), and all wanted to know when we´re going to get married.
We had answers for most other questions, so it took no more than two or three hours to sort out all the paperwork, in five carbon copies and 17,543,643 stamps. And we have the paperwork to prove it, if you´ll just sign here and here, initial there, and fill form no. 47a, in five copies.

One of immigration officers, Hector, was exceptionally helpful. He not only offered to give us a ride to the hotel (a daunting task in the pot-holed, muddy side roads), but also checked out the hotel for us to make sure it´s safe (considering that it probably set the low bar for the rest of our trip´s accommodations). So we proudly checked in to Hotel Texas, where "everything is smaller and worse". Although it doesn´t look half that bad if you close one eye and take a picture from a distance, in the dark and rain:

So to wrap up the day we went with Hector to a local Mexican restaurant, where we were shocked to discover that (Old) Mexican food can taste actually much better than (New) Mexican food.