We arrived Puerto Barrios, Guatemala right on time or perhaps a few minutes later than scheduled. Exited the bus and asked for directions to the lanchas. We found that the landings for the lanchas was about five or six blocks from the terminal of the bus so walked with our stuff in hand and on back. We arrived and were met by the man who would eventually pilot our small wooden craft across the bay. We paid Q35 each for the 45 to 50 minute passage. Little did either of us know what lay ahead. And, since you were not there and are solely dependent upon my narration, I will do my best to describe in a far better fashion than the manner in which most youngsters these days might be able to do. How often have you asked them something when they are only capable of saying "it was cool or awesome"? What exactly does cool or awesome mean? It certainly does not paint a picture for me. So, I shall try to use an amazing set of hues so you can share the beauty and diversity of our experience too.
We purchased our tickets and were told that the launch would be ready to depart in about an hour. The real answer would have been that it will depart when there are sufficient paying passengers to fill each area of the benches such that the journey is worthwhile for the pilot. So, it seemed that we were first in line awaiting our departure. Soon we were joined by a nicely rotund and sufficiently painted lady. Next who appeared on the scene were two dames also who might have fit into half sizes or perhaps one might esoterically say the Classic figures.
In the midst of it all the pilot and his helper carried perhaps a ten gallon plastic container of fuel for his engine. He lifted a hatch and plopped the large container into the bowels of the boat and then I noticed that he securely wrapped a tether to the canister of fuel with the other end to one of the supporting rods on the side of the boat. Should this have been an omen to me and to John? Little did we know that a horrible period of weather had struck this area just hours before. Nor did we compute what affect the wonderful breezes that we felt upon arrival at Puerto Barrios might have also on the open bay opening to Mar Caribe. This stretch of salt water over which we would soon be bumping was our adventure soon to unfold. So, little by little the waiting area for the launch filled until we were thirteen or fourteen waiting together with hand baggage. We noticed that some of the baggage was stowed in the front-most portion of the small boat together with other cargo that the pilot was hauling to Livingston.
John was thirsty and asked me to see if any of the cantinas nearby were selling CocaCola light. I tried at three of them and found none of that variety nor did I locate any diet drink whatsoever so we were stuck with our water that we had purchased before our bus trip and the small glasses that we given to us by the bus personnel. No diet drinks here but lots of natural (organic) in nature...maybe even some fertilized and enriched by night soil.
John was thirsty and asked me to see if any of the cantinas nearby were selling CocaCola light. I tried at three of them and found none of that variety nor did I locate any diet drink whatsoever so we were stuck with our water that we had purchased before our bus trip and the small glasses that we given to us by the bus personnel. No diet drinks here but lots of natural (organic) in nature...maybe even some fertilized and enriched by night soil.
So, finally the pilot announced that it was time to board. We did but with the direction of the pilot who precisely placed those of substance across from each other. The remaining group were situated in appropriate positions so as to create balance in the little craft.
Situated, we backed away from the dock and smelled the odor of exhaust. But, not for long. As we were beginning to turn to a forward position, word was spread among us that we should position the large sheets of thick, black plastic in such a way as to cover ourselves from our heads to our toes. John was seated on one side of our row and I on the opposite. Between us was a far younger Guatemalan lad who it appeared had had experience in the crossing. He unfolded the black sheet and positioned it over all three of our heads. All the while, he firmly planted his feet on the bottom middle of the sheet to ensure it would not whip in the wind. Our small craft was covered with a canvas that was attached on the sides to metal poles. It provided an adequate covering from rainfall that might fall straight down. But, the craft was absolutely open to the sides and already we could see and feel fairly good sized waves from the wind. It was not five minutes into the nearly 50 minute crossing before both John and I knew that the preferred positions were not on the sides. Water was splashing left and right, up and down and every sideways that it could find. And I am not speaking of sprinkles of water. There were waves the tops of which were sailing against anything within the boat that was on target. Getting somewhat damp is one thing. Getting soaked to the skin is quite another matter. Fifteen minutes into the crossing, even the lad in the midst of our row was wet from his pate to his soles. You can only imagine how we were. But, the water had no favorites nor enemies - it was spread and ended up soaking the entire passenger list. I ended up putting my head into my lap while holding a small flap of the plastic sheet securely over as much as I could. Never mind the sides - it simply did not matter now because all was wet and nothing remained dry. Imagine going from an attempt to secure items and self in a dry condition and seeing everything go out of control. That was us and the entire passenger list. I heard an occasional yelp much like that one sees when the bull-riding machines are televised for the entertainment of those who would not otherwise partake. There were whoops and hollers. We had gone beyond any attempt to maintain order or control and now I was wondering why in the world I had not asked the time of the crossing. At least then I would have known how much longer. It went on for 20, 30, 40 and then 45 minutes before I heard and felt a slowing of the engines. I was glad because, to be honest, I was groaning and moaning very softly and hoping that it would be soon over.
We approached the pier in Livingston and I just stared up at it. I was unsure that I was steady enough and had the energy to step up a yard to meet the wooden surface there. But, I did as did all of the other dripping passengers. Can you imagine that those who met us would tell us that it was a rough crossing? Did anybody have to tell us what had transpired? How could they know? They had not experienced it first-hand.
I did step up with my plastic bag and stood at the front of the boat to collect my backpack which had suffered as much water exposure as had I. That was handed to me and immediately two black men who spoke English without a hitch attached themselves to us. John told me that this is the only part of the country of Guatemala with a significant population of black folks. He told me that the blacks migrated first from the islands of the Caribbean. For the most part Spanish is spoken and understood here. But, English is also understood and spoken, especially by the resident blacks. The blacks also speak among themselves in a sort of Creole. There is also one large Mayan tongue used here. But, it is not difficult to be understood nor is it difficult to get around.
Being on the coast, it is very humid and far warmer than what we experience in Antigua. Nights in Antigua are in the 50 degree range and days in the low 70s. Here I would estimate that 80s and 90s are frequent visitors during the days and nights probably get down to what we have as daytime highs. But, there is a breeze and that makes it very nice and comfortable.
Immediately after John and I both collected our personal belongings the two black men who had decided to be our tour guides for the 800 yards to our hotel attached themselves to us. They walked and talked to John. I was in absolutely no mood to have a conversation with anybody. As a matter of fact, I stated upon getting my size twelves on the dock that I would not be taking this method of transport anytime soon again. I was heard by one or both of the black men who would be our "official guides" to the portal of our hotel. They were true to their word and then some. They followed us into the hotel yard, into the lobby and followed the manager who took us to our room. They stood outside of our room telling us that they needed money for their families. John gave one of the two USD5 and we saw them no more.
Now, folks, we were both dripping with sea water. There was not one inch of our clothing that was dry. To add insult to injury, the storm that had hit the area had knocked out all the electricity so there was no hope of getting our clothing either washed or dried. So, Ismael Morales, the resident manager offered the lines outside the office for our drying. And, today they are finally dried despite the continuing rains throughout last night and up until 11 today. We were not the only ones to use the lines!
We were led to a small thatched roofed cabin in which were two neatly made twin beds. Without a doubt, those beds and our dwelling for the night turned out to be one of the most comfortable and quiet respites that we have experienced in Guatemala outside of Antigua. Now, mind you, there had been a storm that I mentioned earlier that had taken down all electrical mains in the city of Livingston so we were without power from the time we checked in until bedtime. But, no matter because here in Guatemala we are used to outages of power and water. There is little or no excitement when this happens and we have been here long enough to not ask how long. It may be minutes, hours or days. One never knows but one is always prepared.
The toilet is down the row of cottages and is shared. There is a shower adjacent to the toilet which is also shared. We put off cleansing the trouble spots because there was no light in the shower room last evening but will probably be able to give you a report on the shower or lack thereof tomorrow. I seriously doubt that there will be cold and hot water. But, here in this heat and humidity, who really cares.
We ordered at the front desk and were served our lunch outside under the thatch and overlooking the beautiful bay. There are large white birds here that stand perhaps a meter in height, there are pelicans and all sorts of other mud hen types. Sprinkle in hundreds of seagulls and you get the picture. No, you really do not. We have a wharf jutting out from the office and eating area where there is a thatched structure at its terminus with four hammocks strung for the use of guests. It is also a platform for diving and entering the water for those brave enough to dunk in this polluted filth.
We awakened early this morning and went to the lobby area where we ordered our breakfasts. I had an omelet with cheese, tomatoes and onions, fried potatoes, coconut bread and a large portion of fresh fruit.. John chose coconut bread with a larger portion of fresh fruit. We had coffee and tea.
Our entertainment today was to be picked up by a launch at 9 and go to Rio Dulce but the weather simply did not cooperate. We experienced rains similar to what I remember as a child in southern Alabama. Hard rains that made the tin roofs sing. Here we hear the rains hitting the thatch. It is a comforting sound and nostalgic. We like it enough here to do a repeat when we next find ourselves in Guatemala.
Tomorrow we are going to Belize and today we met our captain or pilot as they call them here of the launch. We are scheduled to board his launch at ten minutes to 7 tomorrow morning and he will come to our very wharf to fetch us. Two other girls from the hotel will be joining us in our journey. Good for us because the waters are far smoother in the mornings than as the day progresses. And, good to know that our journey should take no more than 40 minutes. Interestingly, since we are crossing into another country, we needed to get an exit stamp from Guatemala. Since the office here does not open before 8 in the morning and since our departure time was before 7, we made a trip to the immigration office today and got those stamps at Q80 each. I gave the clerk Q200 and got change.
After we acquired our stamps, I suggested that we go to the finest hotel in town for something to drink. John had a pineapple smoothie without sugar and I had a refrigerated coconut whose top had been cut for me to drink the milk. Yes, it was cold and very good. I only wished that they had cracked it after for me to eat all of the meat inside. Maybe next time!
When I went to pay for our refreshments, I checked my change from the immigration clerk and found that she had shorted us Q10 (about USD1.25). Oh well, too late then. We strolled up the main street of Livingston for about five blocks and then decided we had done the town and favored a return to the hotel. We found our place and quickly occupied two of the four hammocks on the dock. Good for us and a great relaxation. I listened to Mozart's Requiem and a little Scott Joplin through my Bose headsets as I swayed back and forth. It is a good life, let me tell you.
We order dinner by 5 and there are several interesting possibilities. I will report in more detail in the next posting.
Situated, we backed away from the dock and smelled the odor of exhaust. But, not for long. As we were beginning to turn to a forward position, word was spread among us that we should position the large sheets of thick, black plastic in such a way as to cover ourselves from our heads to our toes. John was seated on one side of our row and I on the opposite. Between us was a far younger Guatemalan lad who it appeared had had experience in the crossing. He unfolded the black sheet and positioned it over all three of our heads. All the while, he firmly planted his feet on the bottom middle of the sheet to ensure it would not whip in the wind. Our small craft was covered with a canvas that was attached on the sides to metal poles. It provided an adequate covering from rainfall that might fall straight down. But, the craft was absolutely open to the sides and already we could see and feel fairly good sized waves from the wind. It was not five minutes into the nearly 50 minute crossing before both John and I knew that the preferred positions were not on the sides. Water was splashing left and right, up and down and every sideways that it could find. And I am not speaking of sprinkles of water. There were waves the tops of which were sailing against anything within the boat that was on target. Getting somewhat damp is one thing. Getting soaked to the skin is quite another matter. Fifteen minutes into the crossing, even the lad in the midst of our row was wet from his pate to his soles. You can only imagine how we were. But, the water had no favorites nor enemies - it was spread and ended up soaking the entire passenger list. I ended up putting my head into my lap while holding a small flap of the plastic sheet securely over as much as I could. Never mind the sides - it simply did not matter now because all was wet and nothing remained dry. Imagine going from an attempt to secure items and self in a dry condition and seeing everything go out of control. That was us and the entire passenger list. I heard an occasional yelp much like that one sees when the bull-riding machines are televised for the entertainment of those who would not otherwise partake. There were whoops and hollers. We had gone beyond any attempt to maintain order or control and now I was wondering why in the world I had not asked the time of the crossing. At least then I would have known how much longer. It went on for 20, 30, 40 and then 45 minutes before I heard and felt a slowing of the engines. I was glad because, to be honest, I was groaning and moaning very softly and hoping that it would be soon over.
We approached the pier in Livingston and I just stared up at it. I was unsure that I was steady enough and had the energy to step up a yard to meet the wooden surface there. But, I did as did all of the other dripping passengers. Can you imagine that those who met us would tell us that it was a rough crossing? Did anybody have to tell us what had transpired? How could they know? They had not experienced it first-hand.
I did step up with my plastic bag and stood at the front of the boat to collect my backpack which had suffered as much water exposure as had I. That was handed to me and immediately two black men who spoke English without a hitch attached themselves to us. John told me that this is the only part of the country of Guatemala with a significant population of black folks. He told me that the blacks migrated first from the islands of the Caribbean. For the most part Spanish is spoken and understood here. But, English is also understood and spoken, especially by the resident blacks. The blacks also speak among themselves in a sort of Creole. There is also one large Mayan tongue used here. But, it is not difficult to be understood nor is it difficult to get around.
Being on the coast, it is very humid and far warmer than what we experience in Antigua. Nights in Antigua are in the 50 degree range and days in the low 70s. Here I would estimate that 80s and 90s are frequent visitors during the days and nights probably get down to what we have as daytime highs. But, there is a breeze and that makes it very nice and comfortable.
Immediately after John and I both collected our personal belongings the two black men who had decided to be our tour guides for the 800 yards to our hotel attached themselves to us. They walked and talked to John. I was in absolutely no mood to have a conversation with anybody. As a matter of fact, I stated upon getting my size twelves on the dock that I would not be taking this method of transport anytime soon again. I was heard by one or both of the black men who would be our "official guides" to the portal of our hotel. They were true to their word and then some. They followed us into the hotel yard, into the lobby and followed the manager who took us to our room. They stood outside of our room telling us that they needed money for their families. John gave one of the two USD5 and we saw them no more.
Now, folks, we were both dripping with sea water. There was not one inch of our clothing that was dry. To add insult to injury, the storm that had hit the area had knocked out all the electricity so there was no hope of getting our clothing either washed or dried. So, Ismael Morales, the resident manager offered the lines outside the office for our drying. And, today they are finally dried despite the continuing rains throughout last night and up until 11 today. We were not the only ones to use the lines!
We were led to a small thatched roofed cabin in which were two neatly made twin beds. Without a doubt, those beds and our dwelling for the night turned out to be one of the most comfortable and quiet respites that we have experienced in Guatemala outside of Antigua. Now, mind you, there had been a storm that I mentioned earlier that had taken down all electrical mains in the city of Livingston so we were without power from the time we checked in until bedtime. But, no matter because here in Guatemala we are used to outages of power and water. There is little or no excitement when this happens and we have been here long enough to not ask how long. It may be minutes, hours or days. One never knows but one is always prepared.
The toilet is down the row of cottages and is shared. There is a shower adjacent to the toilet which is also shared. We put off cleansing the trouble spots because there was no light in the shower room last evening but will probably be able to give you a report on the shower or lack thereof tomorrow. I seriously doubt that there will be cold and hot water. But, here in this heat and humidity, who really cares.
We ordered at the front desk and were served our lunch outside under the thatch and overlooking the beautiful bay. There are large white birds here that stand perhaps a meter in height, there are pelicans and all sorts of other mud hen types. Sprinkle in hundreds of seagulls and you get the picture. No, you really do not. We have a wharf jutting out from the office and eating area where there is a thatched structure at its terminus with four hammocks strung for the use of guests. It is also a platform for diving and entering the water for those brave enough to dunk in this polluted filth.
We awakened early this morning and went to the lobby area where we ordered our breakfasts. I had an omelet with cheese, tomatoes and onions, fried potatoes, coconut bread and a large portion of fresh fruit.. John chose coconut bread with a larger portion of fresh fruit. We had coffee and tea.
Our entertainment today was to be picked up by a launch at 9 and go to Rio Dulce but the weather simply did not cooperate. We experienced rains similar to what I remember as a child in southern Alabama. Hard rains that made the tin roofs sing. Here we hear the rains hitting the thatch. It is a comforting sound and nostalgic. We like it enough here to do a repeat when we next find ourselves in Guatemala.
Tomorrow we are going to Belize and today we met our captain or pilot as they call them here of the launch. We are scheduled to board his launch at ten minutes to 7 tomorrow morning and he will come to our very wharf to fetch us. Two other girls from the hotel will be joining us in our journey. Good for us because the waters are far smoother in the mornings than as the day progresses. And, good to know that our journey should take no more than 40 minutes. Interestingly, since we are crossing into another country, we needed to get an exit stamp from Guatemala. Since the office here does not open before 8 in the morning and since our departure time was before 7, we made a trip to the immigration office today and got those stamps at Q80 each. I gave the clerk Q200 and got change.
After we acquired our stamps, I suggested that we go to the finest hotel in town for something to drink. John had a pineapple smoothie without sugar and I had a refrigerated coconut whose top had been cut for me to drink the milk. Yes, it was cold and very good. I only wished that they had cracked it after for me to eat all of the meat inside. Maybe next time!
When I went to pay for our refreshments, I checked my change from the immigration clerk and found that she had shorted us Q10 (about USD1.25). Oh well, too late then. We strolled up the main street of Livingston for about five blocks and then decided we had done the town and favored a return to the hotel. We found our place and quickly occupied two of the four hammocks on the dock. Good for us and a great relaxation. I listened to Mozart's Requiem and a little Scott Joplin through my Bose headsets as I swayed back and forth. It is a good life, let me tell you.
We order dinner by 5 and there are several interesting possibilities. I will report in more detail in the next posting.
I rather enjoyed my visit to Livingston. The trip up the river was interesting.The food is so very different and I was a little sheepish in trying it. I am sure Juliana has told you of our adventure into the jungle, the hot tub in the middle of the river, the beer in the river, and of course the animal that snuck into my hut and ate my only banana.
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