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Central America
Going
Crossing to Central America...
After the whole Ecuador saga, it was time to cross over to Central America. On a Thursday in April, we boarded a very early flight to Tocumén airport in Panama City.
Panama City is a large, beautiful and modern city. At the time, the old center was very neglected and a little more attention was needed to be paid to security. However, we visited anyway and did not regret it. Anyone who visited Pelourinho in Salvador before its restoration and revitalization can get an idea of what it was like when we were there. The architecture is fantastic. It was declared a World Heritage Site, but its neglect and bad reputation scared away most tourists. Today, revitalized, this part of the city is a must-see.
The city was heavily influenced by the United States due to the construction of the canal. However, the contrasts between the large avenues and shopping centers and the colorful buses playing loud salsa and merengue, and the loud, deafening horns reminded us that we were still in Central America.
On Saturday, very early, we took a bus to pick up our car in Colón, 85 km from the capital. The bus station was modern. The bus was comfortable, with air conditioning and a TV. The driver's assistant was an attraction in itself. In the style of a Latin Lover, he called all the women “my love” and “my life”. He had one white gold tooth and another yellow gold tooth, both decorated with small designs. He showed off his skills throughout the trip. He danced to the sound of salsa and merengue, played at a very high volume on the bus radio, as was the custom. After an hour and a half of fun, we were at the shipping company's office.
We waited for the employee, who was responsible for giving us all the documentation to pick up the car. With the formalities done, we ran to the Mazanillo port, which was 5 km away. We arrived at 11:15 am and were informed that the port would close at noon and that the traffic department, which we needed to go to before customs, at the port was closed on Saturdays.
We were a little desperate to think that we would face the same bureaucratic marathon that we had to endure in Guayaquil. We would have to return to Panama City and then return to Colón again on Monday. We were so devastated that the person in charge of delivering the container asked an employee to help us.
Finally, we had the car, but we were missing a document that would allow us to drive around the country. The head of customs, who was also a geography teacher and interested in learning more about Brazil's political and economic situation, did everything he could. He called an employee of the traffic department and asked her to come from her home to the office to issue the document that would authorize us to drive around Panama. Without this document, we would not be able to continue our journey. Thanks to these people, we were able to safely and legally remove the car from the port, in accordance with the country's laws.
Once again, our “truck,” as we affectionately called our “home car,” was intact. And finally, we could continue our journey to Alaska. But not before visiting the Panama Canal, at its largest lock known as Gatun.
This lock is a fantastic piece of engineering that takes ships from the Pacific to the Atlantic and vice versa, passing through a lake 26 meters above sea level. We saw the line of cargo and passenger ships waiting their turn to pass through the canal. Just to give you an idea, from the observation point we were at, it was possible to talk to those on board. The ship passes slowly, at a distance of about seven meters. And, as a curiosity, we saw that the average fare paid by each ship was 45 thousand dollars. However, the record at the time was 185 thousand dollars, paid for a cargo ship.
Due to the problems faced in relation to political issues, as already mentioned, we decided to shorten our stay in Panama. And, we continued on to Costa Rica...
Costa Rica – Pure Life…
Although this was a long trip, it was important to have some concerns. One of them was the time of arrival in Alaska, because of its harsh climate. Therefore, this type of trip requires organization.
Each of us had our own duties and obligations. We had to think about where to stop, fill up the car with food, fuel and water. The inside of the car was cleaned. Our clothes were washed, preferably in a self-service laundromat. However, not all cities had what we needed. Therefore, to stay longer in a place, we needed to know what the city's infrastructure was like. In short, it was not a vacation trip. And, contrary to what everyone thinks, and we thought too, traveling for a long time is quite a lot of work. We had a routine, work and fun.
So, after all the checks in Panama City, we followed the Pan-American Highway, also known as Inter-American in those parts. The road was narrow and lined with forest, flowers and fruits. Crossing the border, and already in Costa Rica, we decided to leave the Pan-American Highway and take the Costaneira Highway, which runs along the Pacific Ocean. At some points the sea is just a few meters from the road, an invitation for a swim.
Now our destination was Manuel Antonio beach, a very charming place with hotels, inns, camping, bars and restaurants. Visiting the park, which has the same name, was a great option. We stayed for a few days and from there, we continued on to San José.
It was already an idea to make a "technical" stop in the capital to check the car. But, coincidence or not, when we arrived in the city the car had a small problem, which was easily resolved at a Land Rover dealership, the only one in the region. We were received with great curiosity. The service was fast and honest.
While still at the dealership, we received some information that worried us a little. Costa Rica and Nicaragua had a “commercial problem” and the Land Rover brand was not welcome at our next destination. We called the Nicaraguan Embassy, but despite knowing that there was a problem, they had no concrete information. They gave us the phone number of the customs chief at the border where we would enter. We called and he told us that the information was indeed correct, but that it would be possible to cross the country. We relaxed.
We went to Costa Rica. “Pura Vida” is a Costa Rican expression that represents the country and how Costa Ricans view life. The army was abolished there. The crime rate was low. The people are politically minded and educated. Apart from that, the sun, the beaches and the natural beauty are stunning. The landscape is somewhat reminiscent of Brazil, on a smaller scale.
One day, we parked our car on a street that required a parking ticket. We went out to buy it and when we came back, we found two police officers looking at the car. We were worried and showed them the ticket, but they said it was fine. In Costa Rica, tourists are welcome and have some privileges, they added.
Another stop was Tamarindo, a beach in the north of the country. We met an Italian who liked the country and decided to stay there. He built a small guesthouse on a very large plot of land. It was a friendly and special place. The nature was fantastic and the howler monkeys made a lot of noise, especially at dawn.
One of those days, we went to make breakfast in an outdoor kitchen. The Italian man walked by excitedly and wished us a euphoric “good morning.” It was indeed a beautiful day. And that would certainly be a “good morning.” But then we were visited by a huge iguana, who decided to have breakfast with us. It was complete pandemonium.
While the iguana insisted on being our guest, Helinho tried to scare the creature away with a broom. The more he tried to keep the iguana away, the more it came towards him. I managed to escape the siege. The coffee maker spurted coffee up and dirty the entire wall. The iguana chased Helinho, who tried to keep it away. I couldn't help but laugh at the scene. It was a real battle until Helinho managed to get out of the kitchen and the iguana finally achieved its goal: to take the fruit that the Italian placed for it in a fruit bowl on the table. The Italian could have warned us, right?
After a few days there, already accustomed to the iguanas or having fun floating in a river that flowed into the sea, which we later learned was a crocodile habitat, it was time to leave. We would have to face the problems on the Nicaraguan border. We wanted to stay longer, but it was time to leave that “Pura Vida” temporarily.
Nicaragua in the company of our “Laissez-Passer” and passage through Honduras …
We left Tamarindo very early, heading towards the Nicaraguan border. When we arrived, we found many buses, trucks and vans loaded with goods that Nicaraguan traders were looking for in Costa Rica and Panama to sell in the country. Everything was searched before crossing to the other side. We also went through all the formalities, but we still had to sort out the situation of the car's entry. We were lucky that we had called the “customs chief” beforehand. Otherwise, we wouldn't have known where to start.
Immigration was actually easy, but at customs we went through fifteen procedures and four hours of going back and forth between the counters, chasing inspectors, paying fees, getting stamps and signatures, and in the end we only got a handwritten piece of paper. No official paper. We didn't know if that paper would be worth anything. In the end it was, and we managed to more or less complete the process. We still needed to get a “safe conduct” to continue our journey.
To explain further, the crossing through Nicaragua would have to be done in a single day, upon payment of a fee and accompanied by a person designated by customs. There was no point in arguing that the car only had two front seats. In fact, we were in custody. This official was our “safe conduct” and was the guarantee that we would leave the country before the end of the day. The front seat was “kindly” given to the official. He took all the car’s documentation to the border with Honduras. And only there did he hand over the paperwork. We understood that these were the rules, but we were sorry not to be able to see the country.
With all this pressure, it was impossible to waste time on the road, because the border with Honduras closed at the end of the afternoon. The only concession was a 5-minute stop at a gas station to go to the bathroom. Finally, we arrived at the border, got the car documents and faced yet more bureaucracy with a series of stamps and trips to and from counters, the police, etc., etc., before heading to Honduran customs.
It was late afternoon when we started to do the Honduran formalities. In the middle of the whole process, the officials disappeared. We were scared. It would not be at all interesting to spend the night at a border or in a no man's land, without any protection. Only after some time did we discover that the border had closed for dinner, but would reopen later. There was no other way out but to wait patiently.
At that point, we were hungry, but we waited until the inspector, the copy machine, the administrator, the cashier came back... In the meantime, we had to chase away a drunk who was getting on our nerves, a dog that wanted to play... And worst of all, when everyone came back, we were “punished” because we refused help from our brother, cousin, son and all the relatives who worked at the border. As a result, everyone who crossed there arrived and left before us. Our processes were placed at the bottom of the pile of paperwork. Until one day they couldn’t keep us busy anymore because we were the only ones at the border and they had to finish the process.
Finally, with everything ready, we decided to head to Choluteca, a city that was only 40 km from the border. It was already night, the roads were not in good condition, there were no signs, animals crossed the highway and there were detours that were difficult to understand without daylight. Both Nicaragua and Honduras were going through difficulties due to wars and Hurricane Misty, which had devastated the region. Many roads and bridges were being rebuilt. Despite everything, it is a beautiful region, with tropical forests, mountains, volcanoes, lakes and beautiful beaches, both on the Pacific and Caribbean sides, with welcoming and friendly people.
The next day, rested, we left Choluteca unhurriedly towards Santa Rosa de Copan. Then we prepared to cross the border into Guatemala. Luckily for us, this border was much more organized and with fast procedures.
Guatemala...
We decided to go directly to Guatemala City Antigua, as it is a smaller, historic city, with an impressive colonial architecture, pleasant, beautiful and surrounded by three volcanoes: Agua, Acatenango and Fogo. The city has been destroyed a few times by earthquakes. Small seismic tremors are common, but everyone has gotten used to it. So we weren't too uncomfortable. Antigua, as it is called by Guatemalans, is well served by bars, hotels and restaurants. Tourists from all over the world visit the city and some stay longer taking a Spanish course.
It is an unforgettable place, and impressive at the same time. Despite its beauty, it lives in constant risk of destruction. We were lucky enough to witness the Holy Week festivities. We remember a lot of the celebrations in our historic cities in Minas Gerais. The difference was the active participation of the indigenous people. The burial procession was the highlight of the celebration, on Good Friday. Huge floats with the "Dead Lord" were carried by countless men, with their black robes and purple accents. They followed in an impressively paced cadence. A kind of funeral "dance", rocked by sad music that hurt the soul of even the most disbelieving eyes.
We stayed in the city for a few more days, and then exchanged the calm of the city for the chaotic traffic of the big city. Like any metropolis, Guatemala, the capital, is made of contrasts and many activities, bars, restaurants, museums, shopping malls, etc. We decided not to stay too long in the big city to enjoy the other wonders that the country offers. We wanted to know the culture of the Mayan Civilization in the Tikal Ruins, Lake Atitlán, Semuc Champey, Panajachel, Pacaya Volcano.
By philosophizing a little, we learn that there are two realities: the first is the one we learn by listening to or reading about other people's experiences and the second is the one we experience. Central America has always been imagined by us as a poor region, plagued by wars, corruption, dictators, a true banana republic. Experiencing this trip, we discover the other side. We saw a people with an easy and friendly smile, a culture that instigates us to get to know it more closely, exuberant and stunning landscapes, of great contrasts and difficult to forget.
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