El Salvador – Ruta de las Flores road trip with Fiona
5/02/2010
14 00.00 N 89 33.00 W (Santa Ana)
Bahia del Sol is situated on a very long plot of land in an area known as the “golden mile”. At one end is the Pacific ocean with a beautiful white beach leading up to a large swimming pool with bar and restaurant. At the other end is another swimming pool with bar and restaurant and the estuary where the marina is situated. The staff are wonderful and friendly and 3 colorful Macaws greet you at the reception door. The tide in the estuary has a range of about 2 metres between high and low tide. The water rushes in or out at an amazing rate – up to 5 knots !!! Tis funny to watch the coconuts race by. The only downside is being a very long way from anywhere.
We were fortunate enough to meet Jan, a Canadian lady who has made this place her home for the last 10 years, her story is interesting – she arrived here in her 72ft yacht and after falling in love with the place and people, bought a large block of land with its own beach on an island across from the marina. Jan is one of those wiry small women with tremendous drive and energy. She offers free English classes to the local children and is beginning adult classes soon. In between her classes she is building (with assistance) a bungalow for visitors which is available to rent if anyone considers an island getaway holiday. Jan drives into San Salvador every Tuesday with a long “wish list” from the locals and offers rides to any cruisers who wish to go along and visit hardware, big box stores and supermarkets. We went the following day and were mesmerized by the landscape and people – also the many stalls along the road – there was watermelon alley, pineapple alley, honey corner, coconuts for drinking. Sugar cane was being cut in the fields and long lines of trucks lined the roads – the owners slung hammocks under their trucks and had a nap while waiting for their turn to be loaded. Down the road a short distance is the sugar cane leveling bridge – apparently they always overload the trucks trying to get as much cane on as possible – the bridge is a certain height and tends to level off any cane that is piled up too high – the cows then come along the road eating the sweet morsels creating traffic hazards. Oh I forgot to mention – the cows wander freely along the side of the road and in the middle of the road – there is always a honking horn given as a warning to move or be mince meat !!
Several weeks before our arrival the area suffered an unusual amount of rain and flooded occurred extensively. The local’s crops were wiped out and their homes either destroyed or ruined by mud and water. The road in this area is sealed but narrow and filled with potholes – to save what they could of their crops everyone pitched in and gathered all the seeds and took over half the road and laid all the seeds out to dry – it must have been quite a site – causing many traffic jams but a very sensible thing to do.
The locals are surprisingly well dressed – everything matches including the colour of the bra to the colour of the camisole. I told Fiona to bring only old clothes as we wanted to melt into the locals on our road trip and not stand out as tourists and a blinding light to thieves. We still stood out – the hair colour a dead give-a-way but also the clothes – ours far inferior and tired compared to these very smartly dressed people. Children are always immaculate with frilly dresses for the girls and little sandles with heels. Their white clothes are the bright Omo add type white – not my grubby grey/yellow stuff. I don’t know how they do it with bracken water and dust everywhere.
San Salvador is just a big dirty, smoggy busy city – not a place to walk around. There is a mall – Metro Centro – supposedly the largest in Central America – it is a little piece of America on El Salvadorian soil but is was nice to get a coffee of choice and see familiar food.
The local buses here are ex American school buses (ie worn out). Picture a pristine private school girls bus transformed into a Las Vegas transvestite bus – now you got the picture!! The new owners unbolt all the seats and move them forward to squeeze a few more in the back – leg room is non-existent – sitting on an angle in order to get your legs into a tiny school seat then making room for the second person sometimes requires the act of a contortionist. These are affectionally called the “chicken buses” – that is because you ride with the four legged stock – they sometimes getting the better seats !!
Picture a pug-nosed very old yellow American school bus now paint it with fluro green flames from the bonnet and down the sides. Place dents, scratches and slogans along the walls and non-descript fluid on the windows. Now to the inside – you may be able to see the road pass by in the place where your feet should be (if you were a midget) and watch with fascination with exhaust swirling around as it enters the various holes in the floor of the bus. You certainly get a close up view of the head of the person in front of you. Now go to the front of the bus – that area is painted anything from deep burgundy to flouro pink again with flames stretching back down the bus. The bus is run by one person who takes great pride and a little competition in the decorating of his bus. The drivers name is in large letters across where sun visors usually are – all windscreens have ominous looking bullet hole cracks in them – usually several. The cab is decorated in baubles, fancy hair clips attached to the rearview mirror and many religious icons swinging, hanging and attached all around – fascinating to look at. Now the music – this is played at an incredible decibel – you need earplugs!! Because these buses are usually packed to the rafters there is a second man who collects the fares and acts as the back eyes of the bus. He lets out an extraordinary loud shrill cat whistle – various tunes means either “stop someone wanting to depart bus” or “person waiting at next stop” – in order to get the bus moving again he slaps the side of the bus very forcefully then runs and jumps on the moving bus. I have the impression wages are based on numbers of fares because competition for passengers is very fierce – when our taxi pulled into the bus terminal, immediately 2 scouts came running for our fare. Both pulling us towards their bus saying it waiting for us – they guessed correctly where we wanted to go (not many white people go to these areas) and promised the bus would take us directly there – that promise is made if the bus goes anywhere the general direction – even for the first 10 mins of a 2.5 hr journey – they forget to tell you that you may have to change buses several times. We had read about this and were forewarned. The locals haven’t yet quite grabbed the concept of rubbish bins – all rubbish goes out the bus window. Vendors of all shapes and sizes hop on the buses at various stops, sometimes completing their services and getting off, other times traveling with the bus for a few miles then alighting. The goods they sell are incredible – we should just sit on the bus and we could get all our grocery supplies delivered to us. There is the food of course – tiny old ladies with wobbly legs balancing cut off barrels on their shoulders filled with soda cans of various types, with ice to keep them cold. Hot pupusa (the local food, masa balls filled with beans, meat, cheese and flattened then cooked on a bar-be-que, very good) and fruit cut up in small bags. Then come the others which include: toothbrushes, hair bands, museli and choc bars, the lollie man, ice cream cones, veges in small packs, books, religious icons, lighters and the list goes on – so entertaining.
There is always the local transport – a ute with a frame and everyone piles in standing in very close proximity to another – squashed like beans in a can more like it !! Lots of fun going around corners or when someone from the front wants to get off.
When we arrived we parked ourselves in the marina – something we rarely do, and took advantage of the swimming pool and showers – well the showers – humm. What is it with these countries – haven’t they heard of hot water ?? We have not had a hot shower since leaving USA. The cold showers are ok once you get brave enough to get under the water but not much fun for washing hair.
We left on a road trip to Santa Ana a few days later. Don and I are used to traveling on the chicken buses but Fiona was a little out of her comfort zone – she kept very close! Our first stop was Joya de Cenen. This site is declared Heritage of Humanity by UNESCO. The eruption of Lorne Caldera volcano around 600 A.C. covered the city in 14 layers of ash for over 1,400 years. The site was discovered in 1976 by a bull dozer operator – leveling the ground for grain storage tanks. Joya de Cenen has 18 structures with all cooking utensils etc in place as the Mayan dwellers left everything and ran when the volcano erupted.
Our history tour took us to San Andres next. San Andres was the regional focal point to government, ceremonials etc from 600 – 900 A.D. The site was discovered in 1977 and further evacuations continue. Home to approximately 12,000 Maya it was a large city
We had finished walking around the ruins and were resting on a hilltop when an armed person crept out of the thick undergrowth and beckoned us to follow him to see some birds. Now I had read about not walking to the other areas within this site as they are remote and thieves await unsuspecting tourists to rob them. This fellow had all the markings of just that !! After a great deal of prompting and arm waving Don decided to follow the fellow – I waited back then decided if this man was going to hurt my husband I was going to give him what for (not sure how but I was determined to save Don) so down I went into the depths of the undergrowth – closely followed by Fiona. A Spanish speaking tourist had spotted us and decided to follow also. The armed fellow turned out to be a “tourist guard” and was showing us a nest of baby owls – only a day or so old. They were sooo cute – huge eyes in balls of large feathered fluff. They peared out at us from their nest in the undergrowth while mum flew overhead watching. I hope you can see them in the photo – I didn’t want to get very close and frighten them, my zoom wasn’t powerful enough for this photo. In my expert (not) Spanish I told the guard that I had been frightened of him because of the gun and in Australia people do not walk around armed – he thought that very strange and hard to believe. He had a laugh at my concern and showed me his gun – it is amazing how language does not generally interfere with communication.
Our first night was spent in Santa Ana, we were tired by the time we arrived, having got on and off dusty noisy buses and walked through ruins in the heat. The accommodation was in the center very close to the zacala (local park where everyone meets, usually center of town) and Church. The accommodation was clean but in desperate need of TLC but what can you expect for $20 for 3 people. We had TV and a flushing toilet – actually it flushed once then required the services of the “Head Engineer” and a slight adjustment each time it was flushed !!
We intended to be up early to catch a bus to the Parque Nacional Los Volcanos and participate in a walk that begins at 11am sharp – it is the only guided walk of the day. Tourists are not permitted to walk unattended in the Park as assaults used to be a major problem. The use of guides, with tourist police posted along the trail and at the summit has ensured a much safer environment.
Between phones ringing during the night and noise from out the front window, sleep was hard to come by and we were sluggish to say the least. We walked around and found a local tienda (café) for breakfast of beans, omelet and bread. We arrived at the park which encompasses three major volcanoes; Cerro Verde, Volcan Santa Ana and Volcan Izalop. Santa Ana last erupted in 2005. We had a volunteer guide show us through the 45 min nature walk – much preferable to the 4hr hike straight up a slippery volcanic ash slope. In the hills of El Salvador it is much cooler and simply beautiful. The guide told us about some hill towns we should visit and his stories about the beauty of these places was confirmed by a young Belgian girl who was also at the volcanoes. She was traveling on her own and loving it. Our plans altered to encompass these towns (as our trips tend to do). We caught a bus to El Congo which took us along the spine between two volcanoes – simply stunning views and worth the cramped 1.5hr trip just for the views.
Don wanted to see the Lago de Coatepeque which is considered to be one of the 10 most beautiful lakes in the world. It is a volcanic lake and the name means “Hill of the Serpents”. We waited on the corner for a bus going down the hill – it was getting late and we were tired and hungry. We spoke to a Hungarian tourist who was traveling around for 12 months, also waiting for the same bus. He decided to stay at Amacuilco Guest House – our Lonely Planet Guide says it is haunted, wretched and ramshackled, and they charge you $2 to walk in the door !!!!! He laughed and said he may come knocking on our door. We went to Hotel Torremolinos instead. Our accommodation was again clean, tidy and need of paint – but a big bonus – hot water !!!! Shame the element had burnt out ! The hotel had a swimming pool but it was too cold to consider swimming at this altitude, it also boasted a restaurant which had an outdoor section built over the lake – it cost extra to be served in the outdoor section – probably danger money for the waiter. The outdoor section was built on large poles (almost sticks) about 8 metres high, very thin and very wobbly – the sheer number of them was the only support – no concrete or reinforcement to be seen. The whole structure seemed to sway when I walked on it. No such thing as OH&S in this part of the world. Don and I ate a platter of Salvadorian samples while Fiona had pasta. This was my first introduction to plantain fritters – fried banana - yuk, Don loved them and I thought they were gross. How could anyone eat something that resembled the kind of stuff that comes out of a nose of a child with a bad cold – even the thought is revolting. I did try a piece before I knew what it was (thinking it was potato chips) and it tasted good but the mere thought was enough to stop me eating any more.
The next day the bus took us back out of the caldera – the view was spectacular and I was fascinated by the many restaurants with their rear ends attached to the 1 metre of land before the narrow roadway – the rest hung out precarously over the drop to the lake. They were in various states of repair and not one of them stood up straight – all tended to lean down as if they were about to fall off the land. Today was a day to visit small towns – firstly a bus ride to Sonsonate – a place where tourists do not want to stop – only pass through via bus!!!! Our first stop was Nahuizalco where the local craft was wood carving and furniture. The artisans display their work along the roadside.
The second town was Juayua. A quaint village flanked by coffee plantations and volcanoes. We particularly wanted to see the “Christo Negro” carved by Quirio Catano in the late 16th Century. The local Church housed the black Christ. This pretty little town has a gastronomic feast every Sunday and guess what – we were there on a Sunday. I had read where you can get fried frogs at the feast and made it my mission to seek these delicacies out. I was disappointed when I couldn’t find them – I think Fiona was secretly glad !!!
Our second town was Apaneca. High in the Sierra Apaneca Ilamatepec, cool cobblestone Apaneca (1450m) is the town that time forgot. Surrounded by coffee plantations the patterns in the hillside were fascinating. Stocky plants are grown in squares surrounding the coffee trees – protecting them from the sun and wind. We found a small café run in the garage of a local house where a local band was playing, we thoroughly enjoyed our first cappuccino in El Salvador listening to the lively music. We talked to the owners and their sons and they offered to show us around the next day. Our accommodation was in a private house – the bottom story dedicated to two rooms with beds and bathrooms and a share kitchen. It was very clean and beautifully decorated but the smell of mildew prevented me from sleeping – it was very strong.
Our El Salvadorian guides spoke English well – having learned some in school and the rest by using the internet. The 3 sons are all musicians and lots of fun. Juan Carlos and Sergey drove us to Lago Verde a beautiful lake surrounded by volcanoes. We walked around the lake and up the hill to see the vista on the other side – simply beautiful. We were so fortunate to have our local guides.
Our visit was short but we had to return to the boat for Fiona’s flight home. It is just as well we did on that day because I came down with the dreaded Montezuma’s revenge (gastro) and spent the next 2 weeks in bed.
