After all of the excitement and stress of our flat tire extravaganza, we decided to give ourselves a bit of down time in Rio Dulce. We decided to take a boat trip to Livingston, a port town on the mouth of the Rio Dulce that is only accessible by boat and largely inhabited by Garifuna (black Carib people). It would be our first glimpse of the Caribbean Coast. The day before we had met a French woman, Katherine, who was also interested in seeing Livingston so we decided to rent a private boat together. The fare, split three ways, wasn’t much more than the crowded public boats and we could go on our own schedule. Katherine has been living full time on the road for more than two years. She shipped her van from Europe to South America and has been slowly working her way north. We really enjoyed her company.

The boat ride was great with the first stop at Castillo de San Felipe, an old Spanish fort that guarded the entrance to Lago de Izabal from British pirates. The channel to Livingston was spectacular with luscious steep slopes filled with birds. Chester was happy to come along for the ride but soon decided a nap was in order and konked out about ten minutes in after making a bed for himself out of a few life jackets.

Livingston itself was a bit of a bust. Most of the main street filled with tacky tourist shops, with none of the funky Garifuna vibe that our guide books talked about. While wandering around we met Philip, a real character, who gave us an insider’s tour of the other side of Livingston. He showed us the poorer area, inhabitated almost exclusively by blacks. According to Philip this was all there was to Livingston before the civil war drove many other Guatemalans here, where they now dominate tourist commerce. The ramshackle buildings weren’t much to look at and the area has clearly never fully recovered from Hurricane Mitch. Philip’s English was excellent as he lived in Chicago for several years where he attended University and received his degree in biological sciences. He has taken a leadership role in the community and his concern for the community and the environment was obvious. He pointed out the many illegal products for sale in the markets (starfish, turtle shells, snakeskins) and was clearly disturbed by the severe overfishing that is basically killing what remains of a fishing industry in this small port town.

One highlight from this rather sobering afternoon was the food. Livingston is famous for its Tapado: a hearty seafood stew with coconut, banana and other tidbits. Delicious!

We next journeyed to Antigua with a brief overnight in Rio Hondo. We had planned to stay in the Tourist Police Compound (where most overlanders stay). However, when we arrived we were told that camping was not allowed right now. The exact reasoning was vague (they were moving things?) and the timing of any prospective re-opening was equally unclear.

Being later in the day we were a bit panicked for a place to stay. We found a parking lot with an entrance high enough for the camper and paid for one night before setting out (with Chester in tow) to find a hotel. As it was a Sunday in the off-season, we didn’t think this would be incredibly difficult but it definitely turned into a bit of a hunt:
1. The first one claimed to be full.
2. The second seemed okay, but the owner insisted we check out the hotel next door. He really played it up, claiming it was quite nice and even had WiFi which his hotel did not.
3. We looked at the recommended hotel next door but the room was quite a bit worse and decided against it. When we returned to hotel #2, the door was locked and no one answered our knocks. Perhaps he just didn’t like the looks of us or Chester?
4. The next one we tried was really quite nice but we were assaulted by a man trying to sell us on Spanish School with a home stay. He informed us that the owner wouldn’t allow dogs and even followed us down the street as we continued our search.
5. Hotel #5 also claimed to be full (despite a conspicuously empty lobby).
6. We finally found a hotel that was very accepting of both us and Chester in hotel #6 (did I mention that weird Spanish School guy from hotel #4 is still trailing us and giving his pitch?). The room was rather sketchy but we desperately needed a place to crash and both of us were eager to shake the salesman. (Kristel’s edit: by “rather sketchy”, Dave means that it was so dismal we were only comfortable sleeping on top of the covers with our clothes on)

We checked in and almost immediately set to finding a better place for a few days. Our research (thank you Trip Advisor) came up with several possibilities and we set out to explore. The first stop was a very nice hotel but their parking was several blocks away at another hotel and they weren’t sure if it could accommodate our camper’s height. We ventured off to check it out and arrived to see that the hotel in question was another on our list. Their room was just as nice and their common areas were excellent with a gorgeous courtyard and a roof top breakfast and lounge area. With a measuring tape we assured ourselves that the truck would fit and booked in for the next three days.

With a nice room secured, we spent a few days exploring the City. Antigua was the original Colonial Capital of Central America established in 1541. It is surrounded by volcanoes and is prone to seismic activity. The capital was moved to Guatemala City after being severely damaged by an earthquake in 1773. Today it is an open air museum with many of the colonial buildings being restored. Unlike much of Guatemala we had seen, there were many tourists here, as well as fine shops, a great local market and restaurants, a treat for us as we have been in rather rustic areas lately. We checked out museums, shops and generally enjoyed wandering the cobblestone streets.

We also took this time to indulge a bit. I was in desperate need of a haircut and Kristel claimed something needed to be done about her nails. We found a spa and hair salon close to the hotel. For about $25, I got my hair cut Kristel got a full manicure and pedicure.

Our other major indulgence was chocolate! We enrolled in the “From Bean to Bar” workshop at the local chocolate shop and got to participate in the whole chocolate making process. Educational, entertaining and sinfully delicious! We are still enjoying the fruits of our labour…

After leaving Antigua, we decided that we should get a bit closer to the El Salvador border so we could get an early morning start. We had originally thought we would stay at some hot springs but, when heavy rain didn’t look like it was going to let up, we pushed on further. At the last town before the border, we checked into an auto hotel. Scattered throughout Mexico and Central America, these are also referred to as love motels. Typically located on the outskirts of most cities, they have discreet places to park vehicles, and have a reputation of being cheap and clean. Ours was certainly cheap, the owners very friendly but borderline on the clean part. We got a room but chose to sleep in the camper that night.

We were up early and after a quick stop for some breakfast we made the border by 9:30 and managed to get through the Guatemalan formalities quickly. We proceeded to the El Salvadoran border only to be informed that it would be closed for 30-60 minutes. After a while, we realized that the border was closed because a local school band was parading through the border and back. We also found out that, although vehicles could not cross over, the offices were open and we could get our paperwork processed. Kristel decided to try and get the truck papers done while I stayed with the truck. A while later, I was told that I had to move the truck and was directed to a parking lot. I was sure that Kristel would be directed to the truck but decided to go find her just in case. With passports in hand I asked an official where the vehicle import office was. He wanted to see our passports. I tried to explain that Kristel was getting the vehicle paperwork done and would like to be directed there. He asked if we were entering El Salvador and I said yes upon which he led me to a window and handed our passports to another official and, with a big smile, left me there. The passports were scanned and, despite Kristel’s absence, we were both apparently being checked into the Country. You must also appreciate that this is all occurring while an incredibly loud marching band is slowing making its way around the building. I thought Kristel would still be a while, so I might as well get the passport process completed. Even though no questions were asked (such as who is this Kristel and why isn’t she with you?), it seemed to take forever. Through the window, I could see Kristel returning to the truck and looking rather concerned that I wasn’t there. I told the official that I would just be a moment, not at all sure that they could hear me let alone understand me, I ran and told Kristel to wait for me and quickly returned.

Finally I got the passports back, and the band was nearing the end of their procession. If Kristel had any luck, we could be on our way soon.

When I returned to Kristel, I realized she was upset and had not gotten the vehicle paperwork. Apparently there was some kind of problem. We returned together to the vehicle office and were told that our Temporary Import Permit, good for all CA4 countries for the truck, would expire in November and we must return before this date. We told her we would not be back by then and asked what we needed to do. We got no answer and numerous discussions took place among the officials. They again explained that we had signed a declaration saying we would only have the permit until November and this is going to be a problem when we return. Again we asked what we needed to do about it. Nothing could be done and I thought Kristel might lose it but she (barely) managed to keep it together. Then there were more discussions among the officials and suddenly there was no problem…or at least this didn’t merit further discussion. We were passed along to another official who needed to fill out some forms and check the VIN on the truck. While checking he noticed Chester and said we needed to talk to Quarantine people. Kristel went to deal with them and I went back to the vehicle office. A while later, I – along with all the paperwork – was passed on to another official. It appeared that the task here was to take the handwritten form and type it into the computer. This was one of the most painful typing displays I have ever seen. Well over 30 minutes to enter my name, passport number, vehicle description and VIN. This had to be checked several times by several people before it was given to me to check and sign. By this time I was wondering what had become of Kristel, could she be having the same experience. Just as I finished and walked out the door with my new permit in hand I saw Kristel. Apparently her experience wasn`t too bad, although they weren`t quite sure how to deal with Chester as they mostly dealt with agricultural imports. In the end, she settled for a one month transit permit and promised Chester would be leaving the country with us before the 30 days were up. The bulk of her time was spent waiting in line to pay the $9.00 fee for said permit.

After only 2 ½ hours, it looked like we’re almost there. At our last checkpoint, I handed over the permit and watched as one official handed it to another who then headed off to points unknown. It was at this moment that Kristel opened our passport only to notice that they were unstamped. We clearly had a stamp checking us out of Guatemala but no El Salvador entry stamp. Could we have screwed this up? After the official returned, he gave our permit to us and sent us on our way with a smile. Kristel attempted to ask about the passports and whether we needed an entry stamp. He mumbled something about us being “in the system” and sent us on our way again. With more than a little trepidation, we drive on. I guess we will learn how bad we screwed up in a few months when we return.