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TRAVEL BLOG ENTRY
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“Hey meester, Chiquimula?” |
We made an early start this morning (honest) as we wanted to get across the border and down to Antigua in Guatemala today, and since we were using public transport and chicken buses there was no way of knowing just how long the journey was going to take. We had thought that we could get a shuttle minibus across to Antigua, but when we checked last night we found that all the seats were booked, (it wasn't going to leave until 1300 anyway so Plan A was not ideal) so we resorted to Plan B.
We caught the colectivo to the border town of El Florido, where once again we had to go through Honduran and Guatemalan border control. The small slip of paper that we had been given when we entered Honduras was retained by the Honduran Exit Official and they said "that's it" - no stamps or anything in the passport. We then went to the Guatemalan Immigration post, expecting to have to pay to get back into Guatemala. However, unbeknown to Barbara the Honduran guard had waved the white piece of paper at the Guatemalan guard, and so we were waved through by the Guatemalan official, and no money changed hands. No bribes, nothing!
As usual with border posts, there is always a wee man ready to grab you and pack you into his colectivo. They always seem to know where you are going, and there are going there too! So bags lashed to the top of the minibus and we piled on board and set off for Chiquimula, where we hoped we could catch an Express bus to Guatemala City. Again within about 500 yards the bus had filled way past its permitted limits, so we have come to believe that when the bus has 15 seats, it's really only a guideline of the MINIMUM number of people that will ever be on that minibus.
Lets' put it this way, there were 4 people plus a baby in the front seats, made for 3 small adults (seats are rather narrow here anyway). The driver opened the tailgate of the minibus and 4 women piled in and stood behind the back row of seats. Later more men got on and they were left hanging out the side door, clinging to the roof rack - the side door rarely gets shut on these journeys so even if there is not much space there is always plenty of air.
The minibus stopped in Vado Hondo and suddenly the bus emptied. We thought it was a bit unusual, and it was then that the driver (of our next minibus) looked at Dave and said "Hey meester, Chiquimula" (forgive the Guatemalan English accent) and waved towards another smaller minibus. He helped to offload our bags (very friendly and helpful these Guatemalans) put them on the other minibus and off we trundled again.
This time the driver did not overload his bus too much, so we had few stops and in no time at all arrived in Chiquimula. Arriving here is not for the faint-hearted, as you do not get dropped off at a bus station. Instead you debus in the middle of a busy and chaotic market, stalls and cars everywhere, buses trying to make their way through the throng of people. No sooner had we got off than someone asked us if we were going to "Guate", the common term for Guatemala City, we nodded and he grabbed Barbara's backpack and we were tearing through the market behind him. As it turns out not everyone in Guatemala who runs off with your backpack will be trying to steal it.
Safely seated in our not very luxurious bus, both backpacks in the hold, we set off for the big smoke of Guate.
This journey was uneventful, with no sick children or breastfeeding mothers, so we settled down for the long haul.
On the outskirts of Guate the traffic ground to a halt, and it turned out to be roadworks, so it's not just in the UK where roadworks have this effect.
The area around the bus terminal looks very seedy and we did not want to hang around too long, so we jumped in a taxi to go across town to the Antigua bus terminal. The taxi driver pulled his car across the front of the brightly coloured chicken bus as it was trying to leave the station, we got on with our bags and set off on the final leg.
Again we seemed to have found another driver who had delusions of being a Formula 1 driver, and he roared around bends almost on two wheels as his passengers clung to the seats to stop themselves flying across the bus.
Glad to say we reached Antigua in one piece, all fillings still in place although our bones were a bit the worse for wear.
previous travel blog entry
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