We stopped for lunch at this little gas station/restaurant. I was on this journey alone, but I felt completely fulfilled. Stepping off the bus around 2 in the afternoon after being on the bus since 9 that morning was amazing. The balmy air hit me in a burst, and I just couldn't keep a smile off of my face. Even though we were at a gas station (surely not glamorous), it was a fairly isolated one, the trees grew right up to the edge opposite the road. "This is it," I thought, "I'm getting to where I want to be."
I walk towards the bathroom and have my first, and only, experience with public toilets that require payment. Only 1 quetzal, but still. I was trying to be thrifty on this trip. However, the bathroom attendant lady (administrative restroom professional?...) was very nice. I think so anyway, since she didn't speak English and my Spanish, strangely enough, still sucked. I then went the little restaurant there, walled in on two sides only and completely absorbing. The weather was cooperating that day, though, it might not have been as charming when the sun was beating down in extreme mid-day heat. I have no idea what I ate, but it was delicious. This was also my first, though definitely not last, with the corn tortilla/s. They were to be one of my constant companions on my entire trip, luckily enough.
After lunch, the bus ride passed in a blur. We got held up when crossing into Petén, and I'm still not even sure why. The guards were looking in the luggage holder for a while, but then it turned into us waiting for someone to bring something to fix something on the engine of the bus. I think. After this, I was only ready to get to Flores, my next stop. I was planning on the bus making it by mid-afternoon, but it was dark well before we were near Flores. By this time, I was getting tired and crampy, and a bit uptight about my next move. I was planning on playing it mostly by ear, I had a phone number to call in San Andrés (where I was going to volunteer and stay) but I felt it was too late. All I wanted was a safe, comfy bed. And, of course, since it was only my second night away, I was feeling homesick for my boys already in a very achy way.
As soon as the bus stopped, I was thinking only of wanting a taxi. Luckily, about a dozen guys were standing around offering their taxis for the road-weary. I grabbed my bag and the first taxi driver I saw. I hopped in his little white car. I was far from feeling adventurous now, so I gave him the name of a fairly touristy looking hotel that I had seen in my guidebook. "Si, si," he said, he knew the place. I don't remember this dudes name, but his friendliness and helpfulness were a godsend at that point. We find the hotel, and I find out it's ridiculously overpriced and so ridiculously bourgeois that I couldn't stomach it, no matter my state of mind. Nice taxi driver tells me he knows a place. I place my fate in his hands (luckily for me) and we head into Flores proper, an island on Lago Petén Itza connected to the mainland by a bridge. It was a lake I would come to know very well over the following weeks.
Here's a map of Santa Elena/Flores in Petén
My driver takes me to a small hotel on the shore (most of the town is on the shore...), someone he knows and probably gets money from for sending clueless travelers their way. I get a small room with a bed, t.v., A/C, and bathroom with a shower and hot water. Luxury, for sure, and only about $15, definitely my priciest stay of the trip, which I gladly paid. I locked the door behind me. I just didn't have it in me at this point to dredge up enough curiosity to do anything more. I could feel homesickness and sadness setting in; it's a pattern, I get crazy homesick/sad/depressed the first 3 nights I travel alone. So I knew I'd get over in a couple of nights and just let it come, but I tried (kinda unsuccessfully) not to let it drag me down. I take a hot shower with a very strange contraption indeed (pictures next time), put on some comfy clothes, tried to write in my journal (the short entry for that day talks of nothing but my despair that nite...), then turned on the air conditioner and tv, watched Pride and Prejudice and had a good cry, then went to sleep. Maybe my brain would start wrapping around this in sleep.
Next up: Welcome, Krysten! Here, shovel that dirt!
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