El Salvador, not quite what you would expect.

El Salvador has challenged my expectations.  This is partly because we had not originally planned to come here, and therefore I had done little research.  But even if I had, I couldn’t have anticipated the beauty pageant in Suchitoto.  But I’ll get to that in a minute.

We arrived in El Salvador from Nicaragua, crossing Honduras in the process.  It was a long day, and certainly had the potential to negatively colour our first impression of El Salvador.  But it didn’t.  From the friendliest border official in the world, to the man who struck up a conversation with us whilst we waited for our bus in San Miguel, the people made it impossible to dislike El Salvador.  Our entire time here people have been genuinely friendly.  The downside to this, is that it’s made me realise how poor my Spanish is.  I have fairly good functional traveller spanish, but when people want to actually have real conversations with me I’m left shaking my head and saying “No entiendo.”.

Our first few days were spent at El Cuco, or at least nearby at a place called La Tortuga Verde.  Here we enjoyed sun, sand, surf and absolutely delicious food.  It was one of those places that would be easy not to leave, but there was more to see so off we went.  There is one bus that leaves from the hotel at 8am, and there were 7 of us who caught it.  Six of us caught the next bus to San Salvador, but we jumped off early to change for the bus to Suchitoto.  Despite needing three buses it was a fairly easy bus day, and we made it to our next stop in the early afternoon.   Suchitoto is a small mountain town, that you can walk from one end to the other in 15 minutes.  The cobbled streets are lined by charming colourful homes.  Men tip their hats and say “Buenos”, as they ride by on their horse.

On Saturday, as we had wandered around during the day we noticed some unusual sights.  A car surrounded by youths and decorated with flowers.  A section of street cordoned off with lights and speakers being set up underneath a marquee.  As the sun started to set we heard movement and music.  The town square was bustling with people, who seemed to be waiting for something.  Then we turned the corner to see the parade.  Girls sat on top of highly decorated cars, practicing the royal wave or throwing sweets to their adoring fans.  The cars were sometimes empty, at other times filled by friends or family.  A teenage boy stuck his head out the car window and called to me, proffering a paper rose.  The parade made its gradual way around the town, eventually ending near the marquee.  At around 7:00 the ground beneath our feet started to rumble, and we felt the music course through our bodies.  There were neon lights, and spotlights in green, orange and red. The music was an unusual combination of techno, electronica and folk.  We watched children playing in the square as we waited for our pupusas, which were being churned out at a phenomenal rate with about half the town apparently having them for dinner.

Our last stop in El Salvador was San Ignacio.  A small mountain town, from which we climbed to the highest point in El Salvador, which just happens to be on the border with Honduras.  For fun we walked in and out of Honduras a few times, the next day it would take multiple border officials, passport checks, and the obligatory walk through no mans land, to do the same thing!  The actual peak is on private property and it costs $3 to enter.  When we arrived at the gate, the guard told us it was $3 per person, we nodded and Jason got out his wallet.  He then proceeded to attempt to have a conversation, whilst I resorted to “No entiendo” almost every other sentence.  The exchange ended with him telling us we didn’t have to pay after all, and to enjoy the walk.  Perplexed, but grateful, we continued the uphill slog to the summit.   At the summit we encountered yet another friendly local who tried his best to have a conversation with us, but “no entiendo.”  Having recovered our breath we made our way down the mountain, past locals having picnics and children rolling down soft green hills.  We reached the road around 3:30pm and waited for a bus.  And waited.  And waited.  Around 4:30 with the temperature dropping I decided to stand by the side of the road looking cold, and hopeful all at once.  The next car, well ute, that past called out to ask if we wanted a ride and we jumped in the back.  We even had a comfortable seat (100kg bag of rice) and backrest (a rolled up tarp).  We sat in the back, grateful for the lift, and enjoyed the stunning views.  

I’m so glad we came to El Salvador, which we almost didn’t, as it’s turned out to be one of our favourite countries in Central America.  The country itself is beautiful, but they all have had that.  The difference is in the people.  The friendliness, the fact they have time and energy to spend on enjoyment (beauty pageant, music concerts, award ceremonies), a pride in their country and eagerness for tourists to enjoy it.  We have felt completely safe everywhere we’ve been, with no concerns about carrying valuables, or walking the streets at night.  It’s such an easy country to explore with numbered bus routes, and timetables you can find online.  I’m not sure why El Salvador is not higher on the tourist radar, maybe it will be soon.   

From Somoto, Nicaragua to El Cuco, El Salvador via Honduras.

The day started early.  We’d set the alarm for 5:30am, but were awake long before that.  May is the start of the wet season, and as if on queue, the heaven’s opened the night of May 1st.  Thunder and lightening that set car alarms going.  Rain so heavy it formed a waterfall between us and the garden, and a river flowed along the box drains filling them a foot deep in water.  

“I’m not going out in that!”  

It was the sort of rain that leaves you drenched to the bone within 10m of leaving the house, and we don’t have rain covers on our bags.  The fabric is sufficient for light rain, but would be no match for this.  Our decision made we curled back into bed, with the sole aim of the day to buy garbage bags to protect our belongings from future downpours.  

But gradually the rain started to ease.  It was possible to talk, without yelling.  I could hear the whir of the fan over the sound of falling rain.  We talked it back and forth, then at 6:25am decided to just go for it.  We weren’t entirely sure of the bus times, at the station it said 7:15am. whereas the hotel owner had told us it left on the hour.  We decided to aim for 7am, just to be safe.  We quickly found as many plastic bags as possible and covered our electronics, and anything else we deemed of value (eg. passports).  

We were out the door by 6:35 and on our way to the bus terminal.  We arrived with plenty of time to spare, except that the 7 or 7:15am bus was already pulling out of the terminal as we arrived at 6:50am.  It turned out our hour delay in leaving was a good thing, as another couple on the bus had braved the thunderstorm and got there at 5:30am expecting the bus to leave at 6am.

I was expecting the day to be a travel horror story.  12 hours on 7 buses, with two border crossings thrown in for good measure - how could that not end up the day from hell?!  Yet, strangely, it was a good day.  We made it through our first border crossing and after nearly an hour wait were on a minibus heading into Honduras.  It stopped when we spotted two buses heading to Choluteca, one a chicken bus, the other a minibus.  Touts swarmed the van and multiple hands reached for our luggage.  This bus, this bus, muy rapido, directo.  Generally my experience has been smaller buses are quicker and as I wanted to make it to El Cuco before dark it seemed the better choice.  This was reinforced as we left the chicken bus in our dust.  That’s when I started smiling, enjoying the chaos, the unknown, the randomness of pubic transportation.  

I’ll admit the bus from Choluteca to Amatillo wasn’t quite so fun, but that was mostly due to the metal bar causing us to have very painful rear ends.  We helped ourselves to chicken tacos, and debated mangos and roskillas that tempted us on their way pass.  

Our second border crossing of the day was much easier than the first.  On leaving Honduras the line had got a little long and a few of us were waved inside the building where we enjoyed the aircon and a very efficient official had the five of us on our way before the normal line had processed one person.  It was the border official on our entry to El Salvador who made my day though.  He was the happiest border official I’ve ever met.  He was so excited to discover our destination, telling us how much we would love it.  He even suggested a hotel, as he is bringing his family here on Thursday, and he seemed quite taken by the idea we could meet up.

The next two buses were closer to coaches, a degree of comfort we aren’t used to.  We were even entertained by two guys playing guitars who we assumed were buskers, until they finished singing and got off the bus without asking for money.  The only downside was that we had run out of water half way through Honduras and when we tried to buy some from a bus seller in El Salvador she didn’t have enough change.  We only had $1, and the water was 15 cents.  In hindsight we should have offered to buy everything she had, as no other water sellers appeared in the next 4 hours.  

We were evicted from the bus in the middle of a busy street beside a taxi convention.  We were told to wait there for our next bus.  By this point it was just after 3:30pm, and the last bus to El Cuco is 4pm.  We crossed our fingers and watched bus after bus go by, none of them heading to El Cuco.  We struck up a conversation with a local who was meeting his brother and son off a bus.  He also assured us we were in the right place, and did his best to convince us why his home town is worth a visit.  

Eventually the last bus came, and wound it’s slow, ponderous way towards the beach.  If it hadn’t been for the sun setting behind misty covered mountains, it might have been frustrating and upsetting.  Lastly came the taxi from El Cuco to our hotel, which thankfully had a room, free water, free mangos and a beautiful seemingly endless beach.

It took 12 hours, 1 thunderstorm, 2 border crossings, 3 countries, 3 chicken buses, 2 coaches, 2 minibuses, 1 taxi and $21, but we finally made it from Somoto, Nicaragua to El Cuco, El Salvador.