Pupusa, Empanada, Tamale, Baleado…..... No, not the legendary Mexican back four from the 1970 World Cup, but a selection of the tasty delicacies on offer from the street vendors here in CA (Central America). Dinner for a dollar, al fresco dining, fast service, no IVA (sales tax) and no propina (tip). Sure, we’ve had some bad experiences like reheated, stale food, vege snacks full of meat and 6 pupusas when we only wanted 3. (No, wait a minute, that last one belongs in the ‘good’ section.) But mostly it’s delicious. Indeed our Hogmanay dinner was street food and we ate regularly at the stalls lined up behind Sonsonate bus station in El Salvador. Our favourite bus station so far by the way!
Street food leads me on to the topic of bus food and indeed the stunning range of commercial activity that one can witness on board our beloved chicken buses. You can get an incredible array of food such as a wide variety of boiled sweets (might explain the dentally challenged locals), all of the aforementioned hot snacks, fruit, nuts, fried plantain or yuca, gaseosas, aquas and the ubiquitous drinks in a bag. Cane syrup, dilute milkshakes and even Coca-Cola…in a plain, clear plastic bag, tied at the top with a straw inserted. But, boy, are these folk efficient. They have to be, as often the bus is stationary for only a few minutes which is their opportunity to parade on, squash past the folk standing on the packed bus while shouting out their wares and pausing to serve and take payment before exiting skilfully, baskets on their heads, as the driver accelerates away. Combine this with the blaring music, all manner of items being loaded and unloaded from all parts of the bus and a crazed conductor running around shouting something unintelligible but reminiscent of Speedy Gonzales’ cry of ‘andare andare arriba arriba!’. Colourful.
Before returning to the commercial traffic making it’s unsteady way down the aisles of our buses I must take an aside on one of the less savoury aspects of our journey so far. Rubbish, I hear you say. And you would be right. Having consumed whatever delightful snacks on the bus, the remains and wrappers will be unceremoniously chucked out the window, along with any other manner of detritus that they have accumulated along the way. I even saw one woman, with her family, neatly bag up all their rubbish, tie the bag (good for her I’m thinking at this point) only to open the window and chuck the whole thing out. I always like to search for a silver lining in these situations and I would have to admit that the buses were pretty tidy inside. And what happens to the rubbish lying along the roads? Mostly, nothing, until some bloke sweeps it up into a pile and burns it, thus providing us with a thick, acrid smoke that mixes with the pungent exhaust fumes to create a most unpleasant nasal cocktail. Not good.
So, we must now return to the bustling commercial activity, discussed earlier in this column, for food and drink is only part of the cornucopia of goodies on offer. We have also encountered all manner of travelling salesmen. Unlike back home where this breed have their own vehicle to enable the ‘travelling’ part of their job description, these folk just hop on and off buses all day. And what do they sell? A wide range of miracle cures, confections as yet unavailable from your local Tienda (corner shop), educational books to teach the kids (and adults), tacky gift sets, stationery and best of all, some folk just sell evangelism! This is a fast growing industry here as the hellfire and brimstone preachers whip up the crowds into a religious frenzy, stealing souls from the more pedestrian, traditional Catholic faith. And unlike the mumbled hymns of a Sunday Mass, these guys seem to get together any day of the week and blast out rousing songs together. However, it appears that evangelism has a particular appeal for all those who can’t sing a note for the sound they make is truly painful. Ah, God Bless ‘em.
So, what have we been up to? Having New Year’d in Antigua, Guatemala, we spent 2-3 weeks in El Salvador before scooting across the bottom bit of Honduras into Nicaragua, where we presently remain. El Salvador had it all - perfect beaches, great waves, pretty mountain villages, stunning lakes, top weather, a small earthquake and a pathetic attempted armed robbery of our bus. To pick a highlight, we stayed 4 nights at Tortuga Verde on Playa El Esteron, near the Honduran border, nestled on the Pacific Coast. This place is one man’s dream coming to life. Stunning location, a programme to save the turtles, his own TV show, an ego-driven ambition for greatness and a taste for surfing, circuses and playing with young girls (as he put it). If you haven’t guessed already, yes, he was American. Top place though.
The journey from Tortuga Verde to Somoto - our first stop in Nicaragua - was going to be a long one involving several changes of bus, two border crossings and a very early start. It was no surprise then as we limped into Choluteca, half way across Honduras, that hitting the Nicaraguan border before it closed at 5pm didn’t look likely. So, we checked into a bizarre little hotel on the main road to La Frontera (the border), which was lined with a liberal sprinkling of well known chains like Pizza Hut and Wendy’s. Now, as mentioned earlier, we like to trough into the local grub but the chance to have pizza at the ‘Hut’ and breakfast at Wendy’s was too good to miss. So, refreshed from our dip in the hotel pool (we got some strange looks in our skimpy costumes and patchwork skin tones) we set out for our Saturday night with modest expectations. First, find a bar. We heard some dodgy music coming from behind a wall in what appeared to be a municipal car park, devoid of cars but with two beer fridges installed in one corner and a small stage in the other. On this stage resided a bloke doing the worst DJ set I have ever heard. It wasn’t that the music was bad (it was) but more that he kept changing his mind about what to play soon after each song started. So, we had a couple of beers but were sure that we wouldn’t be returning after our pizza, when a large, jolly man came through and greeted us in English. I had a chat with him and he explained that he was a musician/singer and that there would be a band playing later that evening. Well, when we returned we found him and his mate doing a two-man (very professional) karaoke show! There were only a few tables scattered about this car park and unfortunately we chose the one that proved to be in the middle of the dance floor. They belted out some top tunes and even dedicated one to the two gringos stranded on the dance floor. The small (about 9) but appreciative crowd cheered and danced the night away. A surreal evening but one of the most memorable Saturday nights I’ve ever experienced!
So, to Nicaragua, where, while in Leon, we happened to hear of a place tucked up in the very North West corner of the country in an area called Consiguina. Like everywhere else on this coast it had its own volcano. That was interesting but having recently climbed up and sand-boarded down one (wearing virtually opaque goggles) a few days before, it was the beach that interested us more. The owner, Tina, was an engaging host who appeared to subsist entirely on local beer and Pall Mall menthol cigarettes. She insisted that once there (her place was called Rancho Tranquillo) we couldn’t leave as (like Hotel California) you could check out but never leave as there were no buses going back to civilisation (and besides she liked the music on my iPod too much). She explained all about her Rancho including the necessary process when taking a shower ie placing a conch shell over the drain to avoid large frogs taking residence there. People often forgot to do this resulting in a distressed, coughing (but clean) frog emerging as you soaped the sand off. The bar area (and the company) was super cool and consequently our evenings there started early and finished late. Luckily the days were spent stretched out in hammocks. We asked one evening why the bar stools were so wide that you could almost fit two people on each. Turns out that they were fashioned to accommodate the particularly ‘grande’ behind of the cook, affectionately known as Mommy. Perhaps the most lingering memory though would be Tina’s predilection with glitter and spreading it all over her guests in the bar. Our weary-eyed breakfast conversation was often around who still had the most on their face. We did check out eventually (and find a bus out) but the glitter has yet to fully leave us. Oh, and all the food was veggie!
So, as I write this today it’s the 12th of February which means that we’re now into the second half of our Central American journey. We still have some more time here in Nica before sliding through Costa Rica and then Panama before jumping back up to Belize, via the Bay Islands of Honduras, to fly home. Tomorrow, though, we head to the Corn Islands - should be a-maiz-ing. Sorry. Toodle-pip.
Roberto
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