Rio Dulce
(DAY058 : Antigua - Rio Dulce : 215 miles)
The excellent stretch of curvy road to the capital painfully went to waste, slooowly following two elderly riders from Antigua. Based on what I've read and heard, Guatemala City is this evil place that you can not possibly survive (bullocks of course), so they would guide me for quick and safe passage. Ultimately they pointed to a huge "periferico" sign at the city entrance, and waved goodbye. I took the exit, and got lost.
Probably not the best view in Guatemala City.
The hard part is not getting on the darn periferico, it's staying on it and heading in the right direction. A map is useless if you (or anyone for that matter) can't figure out where you are, and asking for directions might be helpful only if you understand Spanish very well, and if the answer is at all relevant. As for signage... What signage? I know I'm supposed to avoid zones 1 thru 5, but I have no clue about where they are! For all I knew,I was in deep (city). Then, a stressful hour later, I was out and my heart rate was back to normal.
The initially ugly road eventually got beautiful, and the blue sky turned dark and threatening. I was chased by the rain clouds all the way north, right into Rio Dulce. After checking into a hotel-ish place for about $10, I set up my tent on the bed and showered first with cold water, then with DEET spray. Welcome to malaria risk zone.
Below: El Relleno, aka Rio Dulce
Bruno's
Main street
Defcon 4 at quarters.
When I went out for my fix of Gallo and possibly a bite on the side, I was pretty sure that it would be a very local affair. As almost always on this trip, I was wrong. The well hidden Sundog Cafe wasn't hidden well enough, and as I passed through its walkway, Guatemala stayed behind. My beer got served, and my clouds let it loose in a downpour.
So what do you call a Turk, a Gringa, two Australians, two Maltecos, a Frenchman, a Romanian, and a German, getting drunk under the makeshift roof of a bar run by a Hollandaise couple? (A very good time)
Sundog Cafe
Had rain taken a break we could have stopped drinking and gone to bed at a reasonable time you know. Thankfully Julian eventually closed the bar and we spread out like wet rats. But this rat would get much wetter than others as the gates to the hotel-ish place were long locked, and no one was around to hear him knocking.
I did eventually make it to my hole to pass out in my tent, but getting up at 8 wasn't easy. Gotta catch the 9am lancha to Livingston.
The excellent stretch of curvy road to the capital painfully went to waste, slooowly following two elderly riders from Antigua. Based on what I've read and heard, Guatemala City is this evil place that you can not possibly survive (bullocks of course), so they would guide me for quick and safe passage. Ultimately they pointed to a huge "periferico" sign at the city entrance, and waved goodbye. I took the exit, and got lost.
Probably not the best view in Guatemala City.
The hard part is not getting on the darn periferico, it's staying on it and heading in the right direction. A map is useless if you (or anyone for that matter) can't figure out where you are, and asking for directions might be helpful only if you understand Spanish very well, and if the answer is at all relevant. As for signage... What signage? I know I'm supposed to avoid zones 1 thru 5, but I have no clue about where they are! For all I knew,I was in deep (city). Then, a stressful hour later, I was out and my heart rate was back to normal.
The initially ugly road eventually got beautiful, and the blue sky turned dark and threatening. I was chased by the rain clouds all the way north, right into Rio Dulce. After checking into a hotel-ish place for about $10, I set up my tent on the bed and showered first with cold water, then with DEET spray. Welcome to malaria risk zone.
Below: El Relleno, aka Rio Dulce
Bruno's
Main street
Defcon 4 at quarters.
When I went out for my fix of Gallo and possibly a bite on the side, I was pretty sure that it would be a very local affair. As almost always on this trip, I was wrong. The well hidden Sundog Cafe wasn't hidden well enough, and as I passed through its walkway, Guatemala stayed behind. My beer got served, and my clouds let it loose in a downpour.
So what do you call a Turk, a Gringa, two Australians, two Maltecos, a Frenchman, a Romanian, and a German, getting drunk under the makeshift roof of a bar run by a Hollandaise couple? (A very good time)
Sundog Cafe
Had rain taken a break we could have stopped drinking and gone to bed at a reasonable time you know. Thankfully Julian eventually closed the bar and we spread out like wet rats. But this rat would get much wetter than others as the gates to the hotel-ish place were long locked, and no one was around to hear him knocking.
I did eventually make it to my hole to pass out in my tent, but getting up at 8 wasn't easy. Gotta catch the 9am lancha to Livingston.
posted by Serdar at
8:12 AM
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