Introduction:
There is nothing quite like foreign travel to shatter the illusion of control. Not just control, but also the illusion of knowing, or more appropriately, un-knowing; un-familiar, un-comfortable. The folly of certainty.
World travel shatters my false assumptions and behavior patterns; shatters the many ways that I’ve been deceiving myself for years too long. Delusions are inexhaustible; I vow to endure them.
When does this become fun. It doesn’t get better. Just this is it, nothing else. When do I become resilient, flexible, and open-minded. Twenty-somethings travel the world, taking a gap year during university. They appear to negotiate their travails with aplomb.
The lessons that I fail to learn, I am doomed, and destined to repeat. Am I not Sisyphus.
This journey is not like visiting China’s Forbidden City, Great Wall, or terracotta warriors. I am simply negotiating Central America; threading the needle from one point to another; slowly recognize that it’s the journey not the destination. Traveling is not linear, it’s iterative, often like solving a puzzle, and likely, several of the puzzle pieces are missing.
Panama:
WED 12/28: departed the house at 5:00am, local train service (Shoreline East, Metro North, New Jersey Transit) to Newark Airport. Backpack was segregated for additional security screening; next time, place (empty) double-edged safety razor in a gray bin.
Had re-bound migraine for most of the day, which became excruciating during the five-hour, 2,000-mile flight, due south. While waiting for public bus from the airport to Panama City, met a pleasant couple from Finland; we shared a taxi split three ways, $5 each.
There is a train that traces the canal zone from Panama City to Colon. In general, poor reviews, and Colon is unsavory. Alternatively, intended to visit Miraflores Locks Visitor Center, however, it’s closed for renovation.
SAT 12/31: wake early at 4:00am; walk to subway stop, but instead, take metro bus to Albrook bus terminal. Arrive at the terminal before 5:00am, there is already a line for the 6:00am bus to David, second largest city in Panama. I’m handed a ticket for a seat assignment, and board the bus. Later in the morning, pay $15 to the ticket attendant that comes through the cabin. It’s a double-decker bus, and it’s full with 75-passengers; looks like a lot of families returning home from the holidays. It’s slow leaving Panama City due to construction and traffic congestion. Pass over the Panama Canal at sunrise. Bus stops at an immigration check-point. A guard comes onto the bus; I’m asked for my passport. I wonder if I will be removed from the bus. My passport is returned, the bus continues on.
Arrive in David after 2:00pm; it’s a short walk to the hostel. Hostel is underwhelming; there are more dogs and cats than guests. Check-in and drop off my backpack, and walk back to the bus terminal looking for the Tracopa office that sells onward tickets to San Jose, Costa Rica. Part of travel often includes such reconnaissance. It’s hot, humid, and tiring. It takes me an hour to find the office; Apple and Google maps aren’t always accurate outside the United States. Receive misleading information from locals when I ask for directions, told that the office is permanently closed. I see the bright green Tracopa bus waiting silently in the parking lot for the 8:30am Sunday departure. It’s been a long day; ate some nuts on the bus; not hungry; skip dinner; hostel kitchen is pretty underwhelming, anyway. All in all, everything went well; if you think about it, things could have gone far worse. The uncertainty at times, is simply overwhelming.
Don’t believe that I went to sleep. There were fireworks to ring in the New Year. Afterward, neighbors turned the car stereo so loud that the hostel vibrated. Hostel said that it had dogs and cats, not my first choice, but okay. Bed sheets were clean, but I was nearly consumed by fleas. I’ve had bed bugs twice; from a hotel, never a hostel. I’ve been bitten by chiggers, to which I’m allergic. There were a few mosquitos in Panama, but you would hear them buzzing near your ears. Early in the morning, I checked my body in the bathroom mirror, my body covered in flat, red welts. Decided to get up, made a cup of coffee in the kitchen, and took some Benadryl to reduce the inflammation. Yes, and this, too.
Took local bus from David to Boquete, one hour, arrived 11:00am. Hostel is located just around the corner from the bus stop and central square. Hostel has unique tile floors in the bathroom, broken tile shards, unique and colorful. Boquete is a mountain town, known for hiking, coffee, and chocolate. It’s a pleasant break from the concrete of the big cities. Tap water in Panama is potable, pleasant surprise.
Costa Rica:
WED 01/04: Stopped by Tracopa ticket office on Sunday and purchased onward ticket in advance. Bus departed David Panama in the morning, and arrived at La Frontera by 9:00am (CST), exited Panama customs, and cleared Costa Rica customs. Took 75-minutes to get all fifty bus passengers through customs.
Costa Rica has a reputation for being strict at the border, turning away tourists without proper documents, including proof of funds or onward ticket. Costa Rica is one of a dozen countries in the world that requires proof of exiting the country before one may enter the country. This is to mitigate illegal immigration, and people who overstay their visa.
Used the site Onward Ticket to rent a flight reservation for 48-hours as my proof of exit. Technically, will take the bus to Nicaragua, but customs doesn’t accept bus tickets. In this case, paid $14, and was provided a real flight reservation on United Airlines from San Jose to Houston. I went to the United website, entered my six digit passenger name record (PNR), and saw the reservation. Alternatively, I could have booked a flight on United and cancelled within 24-hours. I was concerned that if there was an issue, or no WiFi, I would not be able to cancel in time.
Bus departed customs after 10:00am, and took seven hours to reach the capital city. It was a scenic drive through the rain forest, and along the Pacific coast. Traffic was often slow, just a two lane road, with traffic congestion and construction. Teenager sitting next to me on the bus watched TikTok videos until the battery died on his smartphone. Hostel was a short walk from the bus station, and pleased to get in before sunset.
Nicaragua:
SUN 01/08: took a nap Saturday evening; woke up at 11:00pm. Asked hostel front desk about walking two-miles to the bus terminal and the response was an emphatic “no.” Instead, took $3 Uber from hostel to bus terminal out of a modicum of safety.
Ticabus departed at 1:00am from San Jose and reached the Nicaragua border at Penas Blancas at 6:00am, behind four other buses. Took three hours to clear customs; Nicaragua requires COVID vaccination, else 72-hour PCR test. Onward journey to Managua took three hours arriving at mid-day. It was a two-mile walk to hostel; a small and quiet hostel in a quiet neighborhood, with a relaxing garden in the backyard.
TUE 01/10: two-mile walk to bus terminal at Mercado Roberto Huembes; even at 9:00am, heat and humidity were oppressive, the sun, terribly intense. One hour ride to Granada cost $1 on chicken bus. It’s an old, yellow school bus, decked out with more chrome than a Harley-Davidson, garish paint job, and an air horn so loud that it could wake the dead.
Bus driver is younger than me; his eyes are blood shot. I don’t know why, and couldn’t guess. There’s a hustler, the driver’s assistant, maybe he’s 20, he stands in the open doorway of the bus, shouting and whistling to attract passengers, collecting fares. I don’t understand a single word that he is saying. I’m the only gringo, the only tourist on the bus; I can’t tell if it’s my imagination, or if he is giving me stink eye.
Bus ride is almost comedy, and if it wasn’t comedy, it would likely be a form of hell. Granada is much smaller than Managua, less hurried, less noisy, a relief. The architectural details are more thoughtful; ceramic tiles, and brightly painted buildings, more tourists, too.
FRI 01/13: returned to Managua; the city lies on an active fault zone, and was destroyed in a December 1972, 6.3-magnitude earthquake. Nicaragua’s government is a dictatorship; incumbent President, Daniel Ortega, representing the Sandinista party, was re-elected to a third term in 2016 with 72% of the vote, after the Supreme Court suspended term limits. Elections are closed to international observers. Citizens are poor; GDP per capita is $2,050.
El Salvador:
SUN 01/15: was planning a cautious visit to Tegucigalpa, Honduras; capital city has a poor reputation for safety. As it turns out, I could not get an onward bus ticket. Many of the bus lines have suspended service to the country. Getting a ticket out of Honduras would be difficult, too. As it was, getting an onward ticket to San Salvador was also difficult.
Bus departed Managua 1:30am, arriving in San Salvador at 5:30pm. Of the sixteen hour journey, five hours at four custom checkpoints; exit Nicaragua, enter/exit Honduras (in transit), and enter El Salvador. Honduras verified my yellow fever vaccination. Border crossing triggers a certain feeling of dread, there are simply an overwhelming number of people who could deny entry. Border crossings are quite different than clearing customs at the airport, or even clearing customs at the US-Canada border.
Guatemala:
WED 01/18: wake up at 4:00am, it’s a short walk to the bus terminal, and the bus departed 5:00am. To my surprise, the bus served breakfast; fried plantains, scrambled eggs, refried beans, and a soft roll with a piece of cheese. Crossing the border feels like a child’s game of chance; lose a turn, go back two spaces. If you cross enough borders, there will come a time when you’re not allowed to cross; simply a numbers game. Get the gringo.
You have to keep an eye on your bus while at “la frontera” and make sure that the bus doesn’t leave without you. There are internet traveler reports when the bus departed and stranded passengers. Never want to be the last person in the customs queue.
My stomach is tied up in knots; it feels like I’m going to shit my pants, actually, more like explosive diarrhea. I would have to burn my clothes.
As it turns out, Guatemala customs took minutes; no questions, no documentation; handed over my passport at the counter, it was stamped and returned.
The drive in Guatemala was slow, marked with steep canyons. Arrived in Guatemala City at 11:00am, checked into hostel, and purchased onward ticket to Flores, in the north. Despite Guatemala being on the metric system, gasoline is sold in gallons. Guatemala is the first country in Central America that wouldn’t accept U.S. dollars; had to exchange to Quetzal.
FRI 01/20: I’ve learned that the big cities are useful as a transportation hub, but that it’s best to move on, in this case, to the small town of Antigua, with its cobblestone streets.
The difference between cure and poison is the size of the dose; it’s the dose that kills you. It’s a two-mile walk to Terminal el Trebol. I walked around the entire perimeter before finding the location where the red (chicken) buses queue. For several years, these buses were dangerous, as they were overpowered by gangs. Drivers were frequently injured or killed. For several reasons, conditions have improved since the pandemic. The one-hour ride on the chicken bus costs $2 versus $20 for a shared shuttle. Arrived at the hostel by mid-day, dropped off my backpack and explored the city.
I’m at 5,000 feet elevation; between the altitude, vehicle smog, and smoke from burning fires (trash or vegetation), I have a chronic, low-grade headache.
I’ve noticed that citizens of Latin America have difficulty pronouncing my name; my name often becomes Carl, Carlos, Graham, Grant, or Adam, my middle name; anything but Garth.
SUN 01/22: Bus schedule for trip from Guatemala City to Flores was not available on-line, so had to inquire at the bus station. Spent the afternoon at a local Starbucks, get some work done on WiFi. Ordered “cafe del dia” (coffee of the day) and instead got “instant” coffee beverage. At a Starbucks. WTF. There’s no amount of cream or sugar that will redeem the beverage, and there’s no caffeine, either. Bus departs at 9:00pm, and arrives in Flores before 5:00am. A departing guest lets me into the hostel to drop off my backpack. Hostel bathroom is so small that I can take a dump and wash my hands at the same time.
MON 01/23: Awake at 3:30am for the 4:30am shuttle to Tikal, to see the ancient Mayan ruins. Bought a ticket the day before from a “slippery” tourist agency for $12. I expect to be screwed and that no shuttle will appear. To my surprise, sixteen other tourists appear, along with the shuttle van. It’s a two hour ride to the park, and able to explore before the crowds arrive. The morning is cloudy, and the pyramids are shrouded in dense fog. Coatimundi (coati) roam the park; visitors are asked to please not feed the coati.
Belize:
TUE 01/24: Departing Flores was tricky; there were no bus schedules on-line. Had to book a shared shuttle on-line for the six-hour ride to Belize City. Tour agency Marlin Espadas arranged the shuttle, and it was on-time and professional; the van was full with 16-people.
Belize City is expensive, and Lonely Planet guide suggested that it wasn’t a nice place to visit. No kidding. It was like the city was beaten with an ugly stick. Reluctant to criticize a person’s home town, but glad that I wasn’t staying. After getting off the shuttle bus, boarded water taxi to nearby Caye Caulker, small island off the coast of Belize. Streets are packed sand; no motorized vehicles except for electric golf carts, checked into local hostel.
Mexico:
Caye Caulker was 80-degrees, sunshine, breezy, and humid, like when you’re in the oncoming path of a hurricane. It was windy overnight, sustained winds of 25-mph, blowing sand everywhere. The wind, part of a weak cold front, continued until mid-morning.
There was a bar at the hostel that ran past midnight; not sure how I fell asleep with the noise. I had the choice of a cold shower or a cold shower; the water didn’t smell good, either. There was no place to sit or work on the laptop; my bed was too far away from WiFi.
WED 01/25: there is limited information for onward travel. Before COVID, there was an ADO first class bus that would service the region between Belize City, Chetumal, and Cancun. There is a hodge podge of other services, including chicken bus, taxi, and shared shuttles. Elected to take water taxi from Caye Caulker to Chetumal; twice as expensive as the bus, but unique mode of transportation. There weren’t any locals on the water taxi; no surprise given the cost. Forty passengers; many appeared happy and talkative. Exit Belize customs at San Pedro, pay $20 USD exit tax, and cleared Mexican customs at the small marine port of entry, paying $40 USD exit tax upon entry. Welcome back to the United Mexican States.
Notes:
Most hostels require cash; few take credit card. The cash equation is unique; take out enough cash from the ATM to justify $5-$10 ATM fee, but not too much cash in case of being robbed; usually withdraw $200 USD. The other nuance is keeping a low cash withdrawal limit on the card, in the event of being extorted and taken to an ATM to extract cash by force; I usually set $225 USD as the limit, to cover ATM fees. Once I fall below $100 cash on hand, I start looking for an ATM; some ATMs aren’t linked via Cirrus or Plus network.
Didn’t book forward more than five or seven days; often times, it wasn’t possible; couldn’t find bus schedules on-line. Appreciate the flexibility. Respect that this isn’t always possible, for example, Alaska, which has a short tourist season; places book out, or become increasingly expensive.
Traveling with a companion would be easier. I’m not free from bad intuition, or poor judgement. A companion would multiply the joy, and reduce the anxiety (of not knowing).
I stayed at hostels, and while I am not always socially outgoing, the social interaction makes a big difference in not feeling socially isolated, as I did last winter traveling through Mexico.
Didn’t swap out iPhone SIM card. GPS maps provides relative location, and rely on WiFi at the hostel, or WiFi from Starbucks or McDonalds. Google maps is more useful than Apple.
My Spanish skills have slowly improved over the past year; still speak like a child, but I’m more willing to engage. My skills with numbers, dates, and times, has improved, making it easier to buy bus tickets; no longer rely on Google translate at the ticket counter.
Walked five miles per day; 150-miles in total. Greatest danger is being hit by a motorcycle. I was “cased” (followed) four times; twice in Costa Rica and twice in Guatemala. It’s unnerving and intimidating; similar to wild animals, I don’t make eye contact.
Crossed six land borders; a little bit wiser in terms of the experience. Hopefully, I become more skillful this summer; anticipate transiting more than twenty countries (land, air, sea).
Cost:
Lodging: $360 ($12 per day | including taxes and fees)
Transport: $430 ($15 per day | including flight NYC > Panama)
Food: $19 ($1 per day)
Other: $147 ($92 border crossing fee | $33 ATM fee | $20 Tikal | $2 other)
Total: $956 ($33 per day | 29-days in Central America)
Conclusion:
Grateful for the opportunity to visit Central America; not sure that I would choose to return. One year ago, Costa Rica still had strict tourist protocols in place due to COVID. Indeed, I’ve had the Lonely Planet guidebook for more than five years. Traveling 1,700 miles by bus isn’t always charming, and crossing six international borders is not for the feint of heart; I’m not really a beach-comber; really don’t like sand in my crotch. See ya later.
garthmonroe 