After saying goodbye to Wally and San Ignacio, we bused to the Guatemalan border. Borders are always interesting places. As the only Gringos on the bus, we were left alone to fend off the 20+ money chnagers, taxi drivers, tour guides, and other irritants as we got off the bus. No problems with customs.
We waited two hours (unexpectedly) for the local bus to El Remate. Note: Most of the buses here are old Blue Bird school buses from the U.S. Anyway, the bus was a bargain at 10 Quetzals (about $1.50 each). Lots of fun - seats were so narrow we couldnt sit without doing a painful pretzul configuration, we had a flat tire en route, and it was chicken bus #2 for those of you counting at home. The funniest part was when a very obviously native indian man got on the bus with an Emilys Bat Mitzvah 1998 t-shirt. Note #2: Some of the clothes donated in the U.S. ends up being sold down here (around $.50).
We were going to El Remate because it is the closest town to the Mayan ruins of Tikal. Our hotel of choice was sold out and after a few other unsuccessful attempts, we found the Hotel de la Casa de Don Juan. First the bad parts, it was a room with no door (a sheet) and the walls were made of bamboo sticks. The good parts included a mosquito net, fan and the very kind family of Don Juan.
Don Juan said most of the hotels were full because of the Hombre Maya triathlon to Tikal. Matt asked if it was still possible to enter. Don Juan said he didnt know but he would loan Matt a bike if he did. After lots of confusion, Matt was entered as the only Gringo in the race.
Meanwhile, Lady was back at the hotel playing cards with the gardener. Modesto, age 50, was hitting on her, buying her drinks, said her eyes were beautiful, etc. All of which was lost on Lady in the translation. At least, so she says.
