#Magic flowers el salvador full
Sometimes, you’re still miles away from their bus, but they’ll come running to you, as if they smelled you, shouting “Puerto Barrios?! Puerto Barrios?!” or “Huehuehue!! Huehuehuehuehue!! They hurry you through busy streets and markets, pull the backpack brutally from your back, shove you in a full chicken bus and climb on the roof with your luggage, tie it to a rack with 300 metres of rope and clamber into an already speeding bus through a small side window.
In Guatemala, bus boys find you before you find them. In this port town, we found out that El Salvador is no Guatemala.
With a serious delay, we set off for La Libertad in the early afternoon. Self-chastisement to no avail, as the tide was too high to explore the caves. As if walking on hot coals, I limped over the rocky beach for half an hour, ripping my soles open on sharp stones and shells. We woke up in El Tunco and I wanted to see the beach caves. For example on the way to Alegría, in the east of El Salvador, on the day we discovered the difference between the ‘ordinary’ buses in El Salvador (‘ordinario’) and the special ones. If you can’t stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen.īut sometimes, the journey is integral to the destination. So just accept it and shut up about it – the bus, the chickens, the body odour. You’re a privileged fucker on his way to a picture-perfect waterfall. You’re not in the office sweating over some report that has to be filed by noon. Yes, it’s annoying when the bus is four hours late and when you’re squeezed between a box of chickens and a man with a body odour that’s considered a biological weapon by the United Nations.
Besides, no one really cares about the time you spent on a bus to get to that picture-perfect waterfall. I know that most travel blogs are just a glorification of all things travel.
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