The one where something goes wrong
I suppose it wasn’t all going to go without a hitch but I could definitely have done without an ATM eating my bank card. After trying to explain what had happened via my broken Spanglish and the power of Google Translate, it became pretty apparent that it was not going to be retrievable. Fortunately Lauren was - and generally is - amazing so I was able to order a replacement with her on the phone to the bank and me at the same time. And weirdly it turned out the lady at Nationwide lived in our flat in Didcot about ten years ago. Then Lauren sent me some money via Western Union and I had a taxi ride to pick it up, once more navigating a lot of seemingly unnecessary questions and a side quest to find a photocopier in the shopping mall before I eventually got my cash. Panic over. Much-needed ice cream (sadly a bit average, though I was spoiled in Antigua) and beer followed.
Kudos also to Carlos at the hostel for his help and relaxed demeanour. This was typical of him and goes a long way to explaining why his place has the single best set of TripAdvisor reviews I’ve ever seen. And they were totally justified - as well as the warmest of welcomes, there are plenty of social areas, two kitchens probably better stocked than my house, a fridge full of local beers, a pool, a roof terrace, superb WiFi, great hot showers, tours, and some extra touches that go above and beyond the normal. It’s not perfect but it had a pretty good go and is definitely one of the best places I’ve stayed.
And to go back to the beginning, before all the drama, I’m in El Salvador. Basing myself in Santa Ana, the tiny country’s second city, it was a great launchpad to hit the things I wanted to see. Many people skip El Salvador or just make a trip to the beach but I fancied a few of the other things on offer, aside from the first-class lodging. I only actually explored the city on the ill-fated card-munching day but had a stroll round the markets, the impressive cathedral, a couple of churches and the theatre. Mostly, though, I was day tripping.
First up was the Ruta de las Flores, a series of pretty villages in the mountains, accompanied by by Ben, a tennis coach from London, and Rosa, a Salvadoran septuagenarian living in San Francisco who took great pleasure in (grand)mothering us. It was a bit weird being in a car again after coaches and minibuses but it was nice to have a driver and far more efficient than trying to do it all on public transport. We started with a walk down to some waterfalls before hitting Juayúa, Salcoatitán, Apaneca and Ataco. They’re quite similar in that they have a small central park overlooked by a church and then largely villagers going about their daily lives. I was slightly underwhelmed until we got to Ataco, which was picturesque and colourful with painted houses and murals everywhere. But there was coffee and cake and my first pupusas (local favourite, kind of a tortilla-cum-pancake stuffed with a variety of fillings) and an interesting insight into local life.
Another day, another tour - this time to four different Mayan sites. None of them were bothering Tikal or Chichen Itza on the impressiveness scale but I knew that going in. Joya de Ceren, ‘the Salvadoran Pompeii’, was buried by a volcano eruption and was something different. San Andres was followed by lunch with a cracking view over Lake Coatepeque and Volcan Santa Ana, before Casa Blanca, and Tazumal, probably the most ‘classic’ of the four. This time I was joined by Martin and Naomi of Henley: you go halfway round the world and meet people who live on your doorstep. Literally in the case of Nationwide lady.
Next up was volcano day. We had an armed escort but given there were 30-odd of us and pretty strung out I’m not sure he would have been able to do much. Still, prevention, cure and all that Second Amendment jazz. We were treated to superb views of Lake Coatepeque from the top, as well as two smaller volcanoes also in the national park. Best of all though was the vibrant green lake in the crater, one of those ‘that doesn’t look real’ views. We did have to put of with the unmistakable stench of sulphur (from the volcano, not from summoning any demons) but it was a small price to pay. At only about an hour and a bit each way it wasn’t too taxing, which was a relief given the weather. It was properly hot (low 30s) every day, which did mean I had a dip in the pool as part of my evening routine of drinking, swapping stories and making the most of things. Bit number four was a short one, consisting as it did of a solitary stop, but was also the most nights I’ve spent in any one place and I couldn’t have picked a better one for that.
Kudos also to Carlos at the hostel for his help and relaxed demeanour. This was typical of him and goes a long way to explaining why his place has the single best set of TripAdvisor reviews I’ve ever seen. And they were totally justified - as well as the warmest of welcomes, there are plenty of social areas, two kitchens probably better stocked than my house, a fridge full of local beers, a pool, a roof terrace, superb WiFi, great hot showers, tours, and some extra touches that go above and beyond the normal. It’s not perfect but it had a pretty good go and is definitely one of the best places I’ve stayed.
And to go back to the beginning, before all the drama, I’m in El Salvador. Basing myself in Santa Ana, the tiny country’s second city, it was a great launchpad to hit the things I wanted to see. Many people skip El Salvador or just make a trip to the beach but I fancied a few of the other things on offer, aside from the first-class lodging. I only actually explored the city on the ill-fated card-munching day but had a stroll round the markets, the impressive cathedral, a couple of churches and the theatre. Mostly, though, I was day tripping.
First up was the Ruta de las Flores, a series of pretty villages in the mountains, accompanied by by Ben, a tennis coach from London, and Rosa, a Salvadoran septuagenarian living in San Francisco who took great pleasure in (grand)mothering us. It was a bit weird being in a car again after coaches and minibuses but it was nice to have a driver and far more efficient than trying to do it all on public transport. We started with a walk down to some waterfalls before hitting Juayúa, Salcoatitán, Apaneca and Ataco. They’re quite similar in that they have a small central park overlooked by a church and then largely villagers going about their daily lives. I was slightly underwhelmed until we got to Ataco, which was picturesque and colourful with painted houses and murals everywhere. But there was coffee and cake and my first pupusas (local favourite, kind of a tortilla-cum-pancake stuffed with a variety of fillings) and an interesting insight into local life.
Another day, another tour - this time to four different Mayan sites. None of them were bothering Tikal or Chichen Itza on the impressiveness scale but I knew that going in. Joya de Ceren, ‘the Salvadoran Pompeii’, was buried by a volcano eruption and was something different. San Andres was followed by lunch with a cracking view over Lake Coatepeque and Volcan Santa Ana, before Casa Blanca, and Tazumal, probably the most ‘classic’ of the four. This time I was joined by Martin and Naomi of Henley: you go halfway round the world and meet people who live on your doorstep. Literally in the case of Nationwide lady.
Next up was volcano day. We had an armed escort but given there were 30-odd of us and pretty strung out I’m not sure he would have been able to do much. Still, prevention, cure and all that Second Amendment jazz. We were treated to superb views of Lake Coatepeque from the top, as well as two smaller volcanoes also in the national park. Best of all though was the vibrant green lake in the crater, one of those ‘that doesn’t look real’ views. We did have to put of with the unmistakable stench of sulphur (from the volcano, not from summoning any demons) but it was a small price to pay. At only about an hour and a bit each way it wasn’t too taxing, which was a relief given the weather. It was properly hot (low 30s) every day, which did mean I had a dip in the pool as part of my evening routine of drinking, swapping stories and making the most of things. Bit number four was a short one, consisting as it did of a solitary stop, but was also the most nights I’ve spent in any one place and I couldn’t have picked a better one for that.
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