After having been holed up in Xela because of the inclement weather, I decided to spend some time exploring the surrounding area for the remainder of the week. So I caught the chicken bus to San Pedro del Lago. Catching chicken buses is somewhat akin to hitching a ride on a magic carpet. Your wish is their command...
I think the driver and "copiloto" have to provide a minimum revenue for the route they are plying and after this, they get to split the profits. It's hard to see they are rewarded in any other way as they are paid in cash and no tally is kept of the numbers on the buses and only very rarely is any form of ticket issued, although they must earn some kind of minimal salary too.. The copiloto must have a phenomenal memory for who has paid and who hasn't and where he has put their luggage on the roof. On the other hand there were so few foreigners travelling on these buses I guess it was easy to remember me.
So , one just had to utter one's destination in the market place before one was shepherded to a bus already pulling out. On asking if it was direct, the answer was always affirmative. In reality, they would do anything to get another punter on the bus. And so it was, that my direct bus took me first to km148, a well known interchange, from there I got a colectivo to Santa Clara and from there another chicken bus to San Pedro. Utterly miraculous in that it was seamless, the waits between buses minimal and the costs about the same and the timing only marginally longer.
View from the hotel balcony in San Pedro. A private room with private bathroom $6 per night! When I'd settled in, I started to practise the guitar, which introduced me to the Canadian couple next door, who invited me to go hiking with them very early the next morning. They were great company and very stimulating and bright. The downside is that the only Spanish I spoke was on their behalf or to translate for them. Tanya was very fit and went bounding on ahead. Jerome on the other hand was content to walk more slowly, which was a relief as I thought I would have had a coronary if we had continued at Tanya's pace. There were few other tourists on account of the recent storm, which made the place really enjoyable.
Jerome and Tanya... at the top of La Nariz
Looking out from the jetty at San Pedro
Looking across towards La Nariz from the balcony outside my room
Why this hill is called "El rostro Maya" or "La Nariz Indio".... Can you see the face in profile in this rotated photo. The hike took us to the tip of the nose.
The view from the top
Catching my breath
The so-called elephant's head in the background, with its trunk outstretched in the water
A svelte beatle on the way down...
I think the driver and "copiloto" have to provide a minimum revenue for the route they are plying and after this, they get to split the profits. It's hard to see they are rewarded in any other way as they are paid in cash and no tally is kept of the numbers on the buses and only very rarely is any form of ticket issued, although they must earn some kind of minimal salary too.. The copiloto must have a phenomenal memory for who has paid and who hasn't and where he has put their luggage on the roof. On the other hand there were so few foreigners travelling on these buses I guess it was easy to remember me.
So , one just had to utter one's destination in the market place before one was shepherded to a bus already pulling out. On asking if it was direct, the answer was always affirmative. In reality, they would do anything to get another punter on the bus. And so it was, that my direct bus took me first to km148, a well known interchange, from there I got a colectivo to Santa Clara and from there another chicken bus to San Pedro. Utterly miraculous in that it was seamless, the waits between buses minimal and the costs about the same and the timing only marginally longer.
View from the hotel balcony in San Pedro. A private room with private bathroom $6 per night! When I'd settled in, I started to practise the guitar, which introduced me to the Canadian couple next door, who invited me to go hiking with them very early the next morning. They were great company and very stimulating and bright. The downside is that the only Spanish I spoke was on their behalf or to translate for them. Tanya was very fit and went bounding on ahead. Jerome on the other hand was content to walk more slowly, which was a relief as I thought I would have had a coronary if we had continued at Tanya's pace. There were few other tourists on account of the recent storm, which made the place really enjoyable.
Jerome and Tanya... at the top of La Nariz
Catching my breath
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