The route out of Monterrico involved going back the way we came and wasting a few hours – or – hopping on a ferry to the mainland. It was an easy choice, but we had no idea what we had waiting for us at the ferry dock.
The dock area was flooded, so we were told to go a few streets down and we could load at the end of the road. The guy threw down a few wood planks and without hesitation we drove right on. Our own boat.
And if I had a pony…
It was a pleasant 30 minute ride through mangroves with lots of birds. A little bit swampy, but still nice. We took photos like we were on a pleasure cruise while our captain steered his tiny outboard motor with his flip-flop.
Unloading was the reverse but with some helpers, since this embarcadero was flooded too. This is not a trip for low-clearance vehicles.
In general, people seemed content to swing in their hammocks above the water in their flooded houses. They just move the hammock up higher and wait for the water to go away, I guess.
An hour or so down the road we came upon this mess.
No bridge, no problem. A temporary bridge was in progress – enough that we could drive on a series of wooden planks to the other side.
I thought the good times would never end, but then we came to the frontera and we had to get serious.
This should be easy. In Guatemala there are only two things to do: get the passport exit stamp and cancel the vehicle permit.
It wasn’t easy, because as only this official noticed, Angela’s passport was never stamped when we entered the country. Bode and I were clear, but not Angela. In hindsight, I recall that she inspected all three passports first, then put an exit stamp in Bode and my passports… THEN she brought up the issue with Angela’s passport.
It was the typical set up. First put us in a major bind (stamp me and Bode out of the country.) Then, tell us we have to go all the way back to El Ceibo to get the proper entrance stamp for Angela… or pay a fine directly to them.
It was a rookie mistake on my part – I should have double-checked all the passports when we entered the country.
Anyway, we went around and around and I respectfully pleaded for her help and showed my empty pockets to no avail. She had all the power and we had none. After dancing around a bit, she lowered her multa from $50 USD to about $20 USD. There was another guy in the office and he was in on it, so I didn’t really have anywhere else to turn.
I briefly considered driving away on principle and going to another border about an hour away. But, to turn around we would have to officially re-enter Guatemala and play the same game with the guy at the other desk.
I coughed up the twenty bucks, she tossed the passport to the guy at the other desk who stamped Angela into the country and then she stamped her out. After 30 minutes of negotiating, it took $20 USD and 30 seconds of stamping to forgive the mistake. We left Guatemala with the equivalent of $3 USD in our pockets.
I imagine that if this had happened in the US, I would still be trying to get Angela out of custody.
Next, there was an issue with canceling the vehicle permit, as the vehicle permit guy acted like he didn’t need to do anything and I was free to go.
I went back to immigration and asked for their help and my new lady friend actually walked over with me to help straighten it out – at least we made her work a little for that $20. Still, the guy could hardly comprehend that I had no intention of re-entering Guatemala and wanted to cancel my vehicle papers.
I can’t imagine all this incompetence from border officials is real. There must be a vast conspiracy among all border officials to feign incompetence and introduce mistakes so that other border officials can game the mistakes and put a few extra bucks in their pockets. I’m sure of it.
Across the border, entering El Salvador was a relative breeze. The officials looked REALLY carefully at all our documents and paused a bit when they saw Angela’s entry and exit stamp from Guatemala on the same day. Still, they couldn’t find any problems (they looked hard,) so they let us in. No stamps here.
The vehicle process took almost an hour for no good reason. They checked the VIN and very slowly filled out the paperwork. Zero cost. A few minutes down the road there was a checkpoint where an official checked our paperwork again and another guy made us pay a road toll. We verified this fee at the immigration office and they said that only US, Canadian, Mexican, and European residents have to pay the road toll.
Despite the flooding in Monterrico, the beach was in great shape and we managed to find a sweet cabana to stay a few nights. They had good food, a nice black sand beach and it even came with mosquito nets.
The word on Monterrico was that it was unbearably hot. We actually found it quite pleasant and certainly bearable. Since it’s the rainy season, things cooled off each afternoon and one night we had a major thunderstorm that rocked the cabana. The palapa roof didn’t leak a drop, but we still didn’t sleep much with the lighting crashing around us. I had to wonder how we would have fared in the bus.
One guy said he could help us with camping at a restaurant, but he was pretty sketchy and we passed. Other than that or searching for a boondocking spot, there just aren’t many camping opportunities. The town starts at the end of the pavement and is really just a few dirt roads parallel to the beach.
The waves this time of year are incredibly huge and crash right on the beach, splashing 20-30 feet straight up right onshore. Hot, hot sand and giant (read: non-boogie boarding) waves meant we spent the weekend by the pool. Bode approached a few kids with no luck (French… I’m just saying…) but then he finally found his friend. Raquel and Rebecca the Canadian/Guatemalan sisters that introduced him to the world of Pet Shop toys and racing across the pool in swim rings. Will and Gabby, the girls’ parents were also very cool.
For two days we lounged by the pool and beach and barely remembered this was a 4th of July weekend.
I also had the chance to spend a little time checking the bus, fixing our inverter, adjusting the valves, etc. I opened the engine lid to find that the lever on the left of my left carb was dangling. I couldn’t find the pieces, so I’m not sure what to do here. I don’t even know what this little lever does, but it looks like it is connected to the choke. I haven’t noticed anything unusual driving (and the plugs look like the mixture is good,) but I’m guessing it needs to be fixed.
If anyone can help us out with the little bits to re-attach it to the choke (or where to order them,) we would be very grateful (contact us for a US mailing address.) From looking at the other side, it looks like I could probably put something together that would suffice, but I’d prefer to have the correct parts. I’ve had zero luck with finding old VW parts in Guatemala and I hear the same is true in El Salvador.
Other than that, I tightened my rear axle nuts (one was loose and I could hear the wheel wobbling when driving). Fortunately, I finally bought a scissor jack and I still have my axle-nut-whacker from Portland. As Christin says, “You can never have your axle nuts too tight.” I whacked ‘em good and tight.
It rained again for our last night in Antigua – fitting since it rained almost every day we were here. However, it did remind us to mention the Guatemalan Shower Suicide Machines. Gamble your life for a hint of warm water.
On our last day of school, we opted to leave the kid at school and take the field trip up the mountain. I think we were supposed to be practicing our Spanish, but everyone spoke English. From the top, we had a terrific view of the Antigua and got to see all 3 volcanoes at once. To top it off, one of them started blowing out smoke and ash, but apparently that is normal.
School was out at noon, and we were loaded and on the road by 12:30. Unfortunately, it was the wrong road. It did get us to our destination, but it was several hours on not only an unpaved road, but one with gaping holes in it.
At one point, I had to get out of the car and stand on the left back bumper so the wheels would touch. We saw a chicken bus coming at us when we first started the drive, so assumed it was the right way, and that the road was just torn up from all the rain. The road just kept getting worse and we never saw another car or truck, only a few people walking, and a donkey or two.
I couldn’t keep the camera still because we were bumping around so much, and the photos that did come out don’t really show how bad the road conditions were.
Anyway, it was the wrong road. The kind of road people were very surprised that we had made it across. The kind of road that makes me very anxious. There were only about 5 horrendous undercarriage scrapings, and 3 places in the road that Jason stopped the car and admitted to also being worried.
Our road met the main highway at a trash dump site next to a small town. We managed to get lost there too, and wandered through the town a few times trying to get onto the highway. Luckily, the people just smiled at us, and eventually pointed us in the right direction.
According to the average Guatemalan, every road is fine. I’ve yet to hear anyone tell us that perhaps another route would be easier on the car.
Jason claims his teacher told him this road would be faster than going through Guatemala City, but 10 minutes after we finally got on the highway we saw a paved exit pointing to Antigua. Maybe that was the road. Oh well.
After a week of school (and 4 nights in pretty shabby accommodations), we were ready to hit the beach. We drove down to the coast, where we hit flooding. The cars in front of us would stop, watch the water and sometimes turn around. The van is pretty high up, and we were too close to the beach to turn around, so we drove through. A few times we hit a pothole we couldn’t see, tilting Red Beard so much that I swear I could reach out of the window and touch the water. We’re from Texas, where there is lots of flash flooding, so you’d think we’d be better about this kind of thing.
We finally arrived in Montericco and found the pool and some cool people almost immediately.
When did you get your bus? Any stories about the previous owner(s) or how you obtained it?
My wife and I bought our bus in March of this year. We bought “Tex” from a older gentleman located in San Diego, CA. We did not find out a lot about the Bus as a friend of his did the “deal”. My wife and I flew from Memphis to San Diego looked at the bus, bought it and hit the road.
It’s got a name, right? Any story behind it?
My wife named the bus “Tex”. Like yourself (I believe) I grew up in Texas and as most Texans are, I am quite proud. She felt that the name ”Tex” would fit nicely and I do tend to agree.
Have a favorite memory or trip in the bus?
So far, our favorite trip was our journey home from San Diego to Memphis along old Route 66. We had never been west of Texas on Route 66 and had a fascinating time. Our only regret was not stopping at the “big ditch”
Any big bus adventures planned? What’s your dream trip in your Westy?
Our dream trip would start in Chicago and end at the Santa Monica pier. I would love to spend a few weeks doing the entire Route 66 trip and writing about it. We also want to travel the East coast and make our way into Canada.
How did you hear about us? Any suggestions on where we should we go?
I was looking for some parts for the bus and somehow you guys ended up in my Google results. Read a few pages and have been hooked every since! As far as places to go, I would recommend a trip to Memphis! Swing by and let my wife and I treat you to some “pork” bar b q and a cold beer!
Want to be featured here? Just let us know through the comments, facebook, or email TeamRehm_at_BodesWell_dot_org
We’re finally out of here. It’s time to figure out how to tie the new bike to the roof and hit the road. Here are just a few final words on a city we really liked.
Volcanoes!
It’s called Antigua for a reason. Everything is crumbling. There are probably 30 ruined churches in this tiny town.
Everyone here is really really nice.
For some reason, every time I walked into the town square I was openly offered weed by one of the shoe-shine boys. Everyone else seemed to be getting their shoes shined.
The little tiendas don’t have much inside, but are exceptionally well-organized. I’ve never seen anything like it.
We’ve had some of the best and most thoughtfully-prepared food here as anywhere on our trip. The plethora of excellent restaurants here is likely unparalleled elsewhere in Central America.
In two weeks, we stayed in 5 different places. We looked at at least 20 more. If you need a recommendation, just let us know.
Here is where I realized that I’m turning gray (early!) and there’s no more denying it (thanks Mike!) I’d be way more comfortable with it if it weren’t for the impending streak. Regardless, I will continue to act immature.
If you come in the summer, bring an umbrella. And a jacket.
I met Kristin at lunch one day at Y tu pina tambian and I had the keys to her apartment before dinner. It’s not what you think, but I’m going to tell the story that way from now on – and probably embellish it. It’s sort of a cushion for that going-gray thing.
Thanks again Kristin!
Oh, and be sure to drop by the Ocelot and say ‘hello’ to Shaun.
Actually, since we are pretty much up to date on the blog, we are now actually almost finished with our first week of school.
The school is an interesting place – part of it is built into a ruined church. All of the ‘classrooms’ are built especially for one-on-one instruction and my little cubby is outside under one of the iglesia arches. It’s kind of odd being instructed outside exposed to the elements, but it does give us plenty to talk about when a big storm blows in.
I thought I had started out really well and was pretty confident that I was going to learn a lot here. Heck, today I had a two hour conversation with my maestra about all sorts of things. From local zoning laws, her whole family history, legalizing drugs, politics, environmental issues – you name it. She did most of the talking, but hey – I understood it.
We had imagined going to school here for several weeks. But, for some reason, we are now feeling like we are done with it. We like the school and the teachers, but sometimes it’s just time to move on and we all feel it’s time to go. We’re also starting to make some plans to meet up with folks farther down the road, so we’re getting anxious to start traveling again.
I don’t remember exactly how old I was when I finally learned how to ride a bike (7 or 8 maybe?) but one thing I know for sure is that I did not have to learn on cobblestones. Bode is trying really hard and having a great time, but I have to sympathize with him when he hits a really rough patch of stonework. Not good with training wheels. However, he has perfected his bail-out.
The new bike has everything he was looking for: blue-ness. The tiger theme is just a bonus.
After being in Antigua for a few weeks, we can recommend many things. Restaurants. Places to stay. Smooth sidewalks.
