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You ever wonder what happened to that old school bus you rode to school back in, say 1983? Probably not, but I´d bet it´s here in Guatemala. The whooping diesel smoke, tiny, cramped seats and big metal handle your old bus driver (probably named ¨Marge¨) swang shut. It´s a little different here. Sitting is pretty much optional, the roof has been outfitted to take loads of goods or bikes on board. That yellow line that used to be near the front - the one you never dared cross - is definitely gone as the driver´s assistant stands halfway out the bottom step yelling at anyone a half block away the bus´s destination. ¨Antingua, Antigua, Antigua¨ he bellows on my current trip from Guatemala City (known in bus lingo only as ¨Guate¨) up and down the winding roads through the mountains. If a potential passenger even blinks at the driver, he darts the bus over to the shoulder - regardless of which lane he is in - to get the additional fare.

The supposed 1.25 hour trip turns into an extended journey of nearly 3.5 hours as we sit in endless traffic for no apparent reason. Don´t even think about drinking liquids on this sort of journey, for the driver ain´t gonna stop so you can pee. Every few miles, and especially in the really bad traffic, vendors jump on board selling their fare, like gum, ¨extra chewy¨ the man yells in his attempt at pronouncing the words in English. There´s also the occassional religious banter from a visitor to our bus. They hand out a sheet exclaiming their beliefs, give a short (but loud) sermon, then ask for donations. One guy who came on for this purpose, surpisingly, did quite well.

In Antigua now....
I scurry through the dirty bus depot (which is more like a rocky, dirty field) and cruise through the market. Antigua definitely has its share of tourism, with its numerous hotels, restaurants and travel agents. Still, it has a certain charm that reminds me of Spain. Big plazas, colonial remnants and half demolished churches are spread throughout the walkable city. Some of the partially destroyed churches remain in this state from the various earthquakes the city has experienced over the many centuries.

I managed to get a $15-night private room with my own bath in a great spot a few blocks from the city center. Tomorrow, I´ll probably cruise around the city, possibly take a trip up one of the surrounding volcanoes, or visit a coffee bean farm.

As for that old school bus, I´m sure I´ll be on one again soon when I venture further West to Lake Atitlan.

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