Happy Valentine’s day to everyone. If it wasn't for the postage I could inundate England with the myriad of multi coloured flowers and balloons from stalls lining the roadsides today here in rain soaked Guatemala.
As dawn broke over Flores this morning even the usual deafening birdsong chorus was subdued by the weather, overcast with leaden skies. But my spirits lifted after a quick wave and smile from my gorgeous granddaughter. Oh the wonders of technology... When it works...
A friendly hostel chap turned up to take me to the (wrong) bus. Not a good start. When I found the right bus it got worse. The easiest way to Rio Dulce is via the fast bus to Guatemala City. A coach rather than a chicken bus\ shuttle minibus.
Alas, I reckon this one was an early Ford production model! The wheels were barely connected. The " bathroom' was a hole. And as it had a ' toilet' we were literally locked in for four hours non stop.
The aircon was freezing. At a petrol pitstop everyone (I was the only gringo) yelled out of the windows and demanded it was turned off. The driver got his own back by turning on the heating instead. Lesser of two evils.
At Rio Dulce my luggage and I got literally thrown off in the middle of a town which looked as if it belonged in a seedy western. Immediately besieged by touts I had to hold my ground and refuse to move until they went away. First time that’s happened so I was unprepared and subsequently burst into tears. Thankfully yet again I was rescued by a stranger, who came to my aid.
Together we contacted Finca Tatin, located a tuk tuk to take me to the waters edge and found the right boat. Bless him, these people are so kind. English is not widely spoken which is hard at times like this so thank goodness for lovely people!
By now the heavens had opened and I cowered in the Open topped boat under the tarpaulin clutching my worldly goods and praying we would not sink under the swell. The river flowing to Livingstone is very wide at this point and today very stormy, which made for a nerve wracking ride.
Finca Tatin is isolated up a small creek amidst deep jungle. My cabin has cold water in a shower open to the skies, a bed with thankfully a mosquito net, resident spiders and I suspect other bugs not yet come out to make their acquaintance.
It is also incredibly beautiful. The rain is easing as darkness falls, and I sit watching the night erase the light flickering on the river flowing below this wooden terrace.
I have refused the communal supper in favour of my bananas and a early night. There are no curtains so I reckon go with nature. And I’m just plain worn out.
As dawn broke over Flores this morning even the usual deafening birdsong chorus was subdued by the weather, overcast with leaden skies. But my spirits lifted after a quick wave and smile from my gorgeous granddaughter. Oh the wonders of technology... When it works...
A friendly hostel chap turned up to take me to the (wrong) bus. Not a good start. When I found the right bus it got worse. The easiest way to Rio Dulce is via the fast bus to Guatemala City. A coach rather than a chicken bus\ shuttle minibus.
Alas, I reckon this one was an early Ford production model! The wheels were barely connected. The " bathroom' was a hole. And as it had a ' toilet' we were literally locked in for four hours non stop.
The aircon was freezing. At a petrol pitstop everyone (I was the only gringo) yelled out of the windows and demanded it was turned off. The driver got his own back by turning on the heating instead. Lesser of two evils.
At Rio Dulce my luggage and I got literally thrown off in the middle of a town which looked as if it belonged in a seedy western. Immediately besieged by touts I had to hold my ground and refuse to move until they went away. First time that’s happened so I was unprepared and subsequently burst into tears. Thankfully yet again I was rescued by a stranger, who came to my aid.
Together we contacted Finca Tatin, located a tuk tuk to take me to the waters edge and found the right boat. Bless him, these people are so kind. English is not widely spoken which is hard at times like this so thank goodness for lovely people!
By now the heavens had opened and I cowered in the Open topped boat under the tarpaulin clutching my worldly goods and praying we would not sink under the swell. The river flowing to Livingstone is very wide at this point and today very stormy, which made for a nerve wracking ride.
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| Approaching Finca Tatin - from the boat |
It is also incredibly beautiful. The rain is easing as darkness falls, and I sit watching the night erase the light flickering on the river flowing below this wooden terrace.
I have refused the communal supper in favour of my bananas and a early night. There are no curtains so I reckon go with nature. And I’m just plain worn out.
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