Déjà vu?

Returning to a place one has already been to years ago, can be weird and can possibly change one’s perception about it – sometimes it can even result in great disappointment, by re-drawing the colorful, cheerful sketched images in our heads, the ones we acquired years ago and were so fond of, in gloomy shades.  This wasn’t the case in Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica, a place I so eagerly awaited to arrive in, after having been in 1998.

Third world countries do develop and change rapidly, and so all my expectation of Puerto Viejo were just irrelevant the moment the bus stopped at the town center.  Nothing I saw was ringing a bell in my head, which was constantly looking around, as I was in some sort trance to find something familiar, working like a computer trying to match images in two different sets.  After a few days in Puerto Viejo I reached the conclusion that the two places were just different, separated by the dimension of time.

Puerto Viejo was a nice point to end the 9 week trip in Central America, especially thanks to the wonderful Pagalu hostel, which was by far, the best I have had the pleasure to stay in.  5 months old, modern and multi-national, the owners prefer no publication but rather word of mouth customers, keeping a secluded atmosphere with no large groups from the same country.  The good times in Puerto Viejo were not the beautiful beaches, the nice town or the amazing weather but becuase of the company.  Thank-you Cecylia, Benjamin, Lee, Sophia 1, Sophia 2, Elizabeth, Salim and Faisal, and a special thanks to my two lovely cooks: Inbal and Aviv.

Heaven is a place on earth (or “La Isla Bonita”)

Although Madonna’s late 80’s hit single “La Isla Bonita” is believed to be about Belize’s Ambergris Caye, it could have well been written about any of the three-hundred and sixty-five islands belonging to the archipelago of San Blas, just off-shore Panama’s mainland.

The tiny islands, some no bigger than a basketball court, are just what heavenly islands look like in movies or dreams – dozens of coconut trees, simple wooden cabins with sand floors, miniature sized white-sand beaches and waters so clear it’s hard to tell what is underwater and what isn’t… No words, nor photos, can really describe the beauty, and more importantly the feeling one experiences on such isolated islands, with no phone, no internet, and only shrimp, fish, calamri, lobster, and other types of sea-food to eat, served the same day they were captured.  Lucky for future travelers, the islands belong to the Kuna Yala indigenous people, who will not sell them to monster corporations for ridiculous amounts of money as may be, thus preserving the authentic look and feel of the islands and the archipelago area.

Our hostel in Panama city sent us to “Ina’s island”, but fate and luck saw to that all cabins were full, sending us to the much-smaller, more-secluded, inhabitant-free island of Ricardo Bonilla, an island which has been running with cabins for only two years and for that reason is not as famous as some of the others, making it possible for us to sometimes be four or five people alone on the island, barely the size of half a football pitch.

Before coming, I thought I would have a hard time going two days straight in such a place, but as it turned out, I stayed for four days, and could have gone a lot more. Swimming in the calm waters, taking in the amazing views, tanning in the strong yet caressing sun, reading, snorkellong in search of two meter deep corals, and eating coconuts, were things I didn’t know could keep me happy for so long, but apparently they did more than that: making friends with Ricardo made it possible for me to perhaps come back, this time as kind of an employee, helping out with financial records (something the Kuna Yala, having no formal education, know nothing about), and helping to translate to other tourists who come to the island.  I fell so madly in love with the place, I just might consider doing that!  In any case, I know that hadn’t been the last these islands have seen of me as I have declared them (by far) the most amazing place I have seen in my life.

Soaking in the atmosphere

Lake Atitlan from the Indian Nose mountain

Although I never consider myself a person who lazes around, I cannot say I have regrets about 10 days of laziness, stretching a long way on the map, between San Cristobal de las Casas in Mexico, through San Pedro la Laguna and Antigua in Guatemala, San Jose in Costa Rica and ending in Panama City.  Sometimes it’s great to just lay off the tourist attractions, stopping to walk so fast and taking a short time to soak in the atmosphere…

Even though I had already visited San Pedro in early September, the second visit almost a month later seemed like a whole different place.  The streets and hotels which were yearning for people like the deserts wish for rain, were now complaining about the density and loudness – overall a great atmosphere, the tourist scene unsurprisingly controlled by Israelis who came for the Jewish new year.  A lovely day hike to the “Indian Nose” mountain gave us a spectacular view of lake Atitlan and proved (at least to me) why it is so magnificent.

Calle del Arco in la Antigua, Guatemala

My visit back in Antigua, for the 3rd time, was supposed to be spent mainly on planning the next stage in the trip – I had to decide between Panama and Nicaragua, as I did not seem to have enough time for both, and Costa Rica, which is the point of return home, was out of the question to miss.  It took me almost a week until I was ready to go on to Panama, making a quick stop in Costa Rica to meet a long time friend, a week

which seemed like months, which made me feel as though I lived in Antigua.  Getting to know the locals was the most interesting thing – Going out to the same place as the owners of my hostel, having been invited to go out with owners of the travel agency where I purchased my flight, and managing to be almost everywhere in Antigua, which is something I cannot say for most places I have been.

The night scene in Antigua was great this time around as well, although it sadly ends around 1am, and almost everyday I encountered a new “small world” story as I met more and more people I knew from home, or had once met.

My $1.30, ~4kg pineapple, before the beheading

The three days spent in Costa Rica went mostly towards meeting old friends from 1998, and the days, though quite boring (As San Jose is not exactly the place for tourists and backpackers alike) filled my tanks with new energies after having rested most of the daytime.

Now it’s time for Panama – with the most cosmopolitan capital in Central America, and probably much more westernized than the rest of it.Attractions here seem to be mostly Caribbean and Pacific white-sand and clear-turquoise water beaches and the world renowned archipelago of San Blas, where I’m headed next – pictures to come soon!

Rich Mexico, Poor Mexico

The route from the beaches included Merida on the west side of the Yucatan state, and then southward through Palenque, with its famous Maya ruins, to San Cristobal de las Casas – about 800km south, crossing from rich Yucatan into the poor state of Chiapas, as lifestyle levels (and prices) visibly and gradually worsen enroute…

Merida, a large colonial wonder city, less visited by backpackers, offered its thriving weekend activities with live bands playing local music at every corner, salsa on the streets, merchants selling just about anything, all-in-all providing a very festive and romantic feeling – luckily for me, I brought not one, but three seֳñoritas along with me. The cenotes in nearby village Cuzama (photo) were well worth the day trip and the wee-uncomfortable retro horse and carriage ride on old and crooked rails, and would probably eventually go into the top-ten list of the journey.

Palenque’s Maya ruins, though architecturally inferior to those of Tikal (Guatemala), were ever more impressive with many more, and less spread out buildings, pyramids, and monuments, also set beautifully within dense jungle, next to lively waterfalls and vibrant rivers – the same scenery around El-Panchan, a tiny village of about 50, only ever existing to supply travelers with cheap sleeps in hammocks, cabaֳñas and fan-cooled basic rooms, giving a nice sleep-in-the-jungle experience, but not for more than one night…

The poverty of the region was well demonstrated in San Juan Chamula, an indigenous Mayan village on the outskirts of highland set San Cristobal. A church with infinite amounts of lit candles, where photographs cannot be taken as believed to steal spirits, was the main attraction, but the habitants, descendants of the Maya, speaking some sort of Mayan dialect and some Spanish, were just as interesting to talk to and interact with.

Goodbye sun, beaches and tan – hello British weather…

Golden Brown – texture like sun

As bad experience as Belize was for passing through into Mexico, the Carribean white-sand beaches and the local atmosphere were more than enough to compensate.  Tulum, for some strange reason deprived of any sort of night life, dazzled us with its virgin beaches with no more than straw huts selling cocktails, while Playa del Carmen, Tulum’s evil twin sister, large hotels brutally smashing the beach potential, presented us with thriving nightlife and multi-national tourism that would make anyone feel they were in Southern Spain rather than Mexico.  Though I escaped their grasp within a week, for Isla Mujeres pulled me like a magnet, the two sisters did a good job seducing me as I tend to visit them quickly on my way back down south.

No wonder many backpackers choose Isla Mujeres as their last point before having to return home.  A nice mixture between the two sisters, Isla has it all.  Nightlife isn’t even close to Playa, but the night isn’t silent here after dinner time, and the ever-so-close Cancun offers plenty of parties at a fairly priced 25 minute ferry almost around the clock.  The super-fine sand beaches, torquoise waters in which you can get as far as 100 meters off-shore without wetting your sombrero, are the main attraction by day… Anyone say beachbum!?  Oh well, I guess the golden brown color of the skins on everyone on this island gives away the food-beach-food-nap-party-bed daily routine.

Coco Bongo, the famous Cancun club, was in itself an attration worth writing home about.  Though Americanized, Commercialized and Merchandized, it was a clubbing experience of a lifetime, with Broadway-like mini performances, loads of balloons, confetti, good music, aerobatic shows and of-course – open bar!  Us Isla Mujeres “residents” had to close the night, as our first ferry back was at 5am, but we definitely didn’t mind staying late!

Isra-alien in Belize

The journey from Guatemala toward Mexico was a promised challenge, I could feel it, or I could tell from the rumors I’ve been hearing lately from all over. To be more accurate – Belize was going to pose the main problem.

Leaving Guatemala was piece of cake: the officers at the border demand Q20 ($3) although we were told it would be 10, which is not a formal departure tax anyway, but rather a very negotiable amount that helps feed their families.

Entering Belize is a different story, especially for citizens of specific countries, probably for political reasons. These countries include Algeria, Bosnia, Japan, Switzerland, and, of-course, Israel. Though the problem was going to be obtaining a simple (and free) transit visa, since I was merely using Belize as a passage to Mexico.

The nightmare began when the only officer was a large, black bald male, with a serious look, though I had prayed for a pretty Caribbean female I could impress.  I asked to go first, in case they made me pay for a visa:

- Hi, I’m traveling to Mexico through Belize, and I would like a transit visa, please.
- There’s no such thing, you need a visa, it costs $50.
- But I know that for people only passing through Belize, a transit visa is available.
- Didn’t you listen to me!? There is no such thing as a transit visa, you are from Israel, and you need a visa.
- (I take out a printed paper with the image above, of a transit visa issued a month ago for a few Israelis): I have a few friends who did get a transit visa.
- (Closing my passport, slamming it on the counter, angrily): NEXT!

Pissed off and irritated, I gave up and ran across, back to Guatemala, found a taxi driver and went to get my passport photo made, as is required by the strict, “honest” Belizeans.  20 minutes later, I return with my photos.  A lady clerk now sits next to the big intimidating fellow and I approach her:

- Hi, I want to get a visa to Belize, I need to pass on my way to Mexico.
(Both clerks converse in some weird English dialect I cannot understand)
- You cannot get a visa, we don’t issue visas on holidays and it’s a bank-holiday today.
- But the two Israelis that came after me got a visa, and they’re through to Belize.
- Okay, you argued before so now you can go back to Guatemala city (12 hours away) and get a visa.

The lady receives a phone call and smiles, I smile back and she changes her mind and hands me a simple visa request form, I go into the office, pay $50 and go back to the male clerk, who gives me a 1-day transit visa, the kind that comes for free…  So, quite a hefty sum ($150) for one lucky immigration control officer, from 3 Israelis who did not want to turn back and remain in Guatemala…  On the way out of Belize, some 6 hours later, I played a different card, this time using my lethal weapon – Spanish.  I told the immigration officer that I paid $50 for a transit visa and now they were asking $20 to leave – I said it’s outrageous and the clerk agreed and waived the extra sum only for me

3rd world countries – hell yeah, but the adrenaline of having to run into Guatemala and having faced deportation back to Guatemala will all be worth it in retrospect, and most importantly, the feeling of exiting with my hand on top – was worth it all. Another day comes to and end…

Semuc Champagne

Though not a candidate in the list of the new 7 natural wonders of the world, Semuc Champey goes straight into my top 10 natural places.  A 300 meter limestone bridge over and adjacent to the powerful Cahabon river, encompasses amazing blue-watered pools which are filled with clean water from the mountains.  The view from the ‘mirador’ (in the photo) is amazing and so i just swimming in the pools.  In every direction – a new photo opportunity.  Near the end of the day, we joined our guide to underneath the waterfall at the end of the pools and into the river, and took a cold shower with soap, which supposedly brings good luck.

El-Retiro, the lovely (Israeli packed) cabin based hostel nearby, is located next to the river, where morning swims and against-the-stream competitions were arranged on a daily basis.  Tubing the river for around $2.5 was a good experience, though painful at times – The Guatemalans haven’t heard much about safety measures .  The many nationalities in El-Retiro helped create a great atmosphere in the local pub/restaurant just by the riverside every night after the expensive buffet dinner, and a few of us Israelis decided to taste the local Shakshuka in Lanquin one night instead.  The Shakshuka was great.

From Lanquin, we moved on north to Flores, an amazing and tiny half island in the north of Guatemala, and the jumping point to Tikal – the famous Maya ruins.  We left the hostel at 3am in order to see the sun rise on the pyramids, some reaching as high as 70 meters and by god that was amazing.  The untolerable heat and humidity, which is probably superior to those of Israel in this region, made us leave straight after the tour, but how long can you stare at, and climb pyramids?  There will be more in Mexico, no worries…

Grinding with the locals

One of the favorite Guatemalan vacation spot is on the Lago de Atitlan, where several villages of no more than 15,000 touch the water all around the lake.  In recent years these villages have become a backpacker base for relaxing, swimming and hiking.  Unfortunately, the rainy season combined with the academic year starting in many places in the world, has rendered these villages, and especially Panajachel and San Pedro, empty.

The next point on the itinerary, Quetzaltenango, or simply Xela as the locals like to call it, is a large city with many hiking opportunities, one of which was on my plan – the 2 day hike to Volcano Tajumulco, ~4,300m, and the highest point in Central America, which, on a good day, allows views into El-Salvador and into Mexico, as far as the Pacific ocean.  Sadly, no tour company operates this hike at the moment, again, because of the weather.

Realizing I might have left Antigua a tad early, I returned, with the prospect of finding more interesting people and perhaps travel partners to either Mexico or the north of Guatemala. So far the goals have been achieved and the plan is climbing to the Mayan ruins of Tikal in the very north, passing by several touristic gems such as Semuc Champey, Rio Dulce, and Flores (Google images…)

Antigua has nothing to be ashamed of in respect to its nightlife, especially for a town of 140,000.  An early night turned into a crazy party in a local club, until the late hours, 1am in this part of the world .  Guy (ISR), Julia, Danielle (GER) and I, were a bit scared at first to enter the all-black-all-local dance-floor, but the fear, aided by small amounts of alcohol, was quickly replaced with wide smiles and the experience of being the only tourists dancing in the Guatemaltecan crowd.

Cheers!

Traveling back in time

Traveling from Israel to Guatemala is like going back in time, much more than the 9 hours of time difference between the two countries.

I landed in Aurora Int`l airport in Guatemala at noon local time, and decided on taking the authentic way to get to the city – a city (chicken) bus: a 15 year-old driver drives a bus 3 times as old, collects $0.15 from the passengers while driving, uses two electrical string ends to start the engine every time it fails, and opens its cover beside him, to cool it down at red lights, heating up the passengers… Chapines (Guatemalans) fill the bus slowly, getting on while it`s still in motion, and everytime one thinks the bus is full, more Chapines make their way onto the front steps.

Fleeing the dirty and dangerous Guatemala City was probably the best choice – Antigua, only 45 minutes away was a much better place to begin. Beautifully set between three volcanos, much cooler and safer, it is the starting point for most backpackers landing in Guatemala.

I chose the most social sounding place to sleep from the travel guide, and went on a one day hike to one of three active volcanos in Guatemala. It turns out lava is really not too pleasant to be around for a long time at 3000 degrees celsius, but it roasts marshmallows in no time

The trip begins…