Last Stop in Livingston

We’re home two days now and still catching up on our rest.  I’m going to Casa Jackson to help with the babies this afternoon.  Therefore, I am compelled to finish writing about our journey before it becomes a vague and distant memory.

We had to take another eight hour bus trip to Rio Dulce and then catch a boat to Livingston.  I was promised a luxury bus with air, wifi and bathroom on board so I thought that won’t be so bad.  Of course, that was not what our bus looked like.  It was a full size bus with bathroom in the back.  And there was air conditioning.  However, the windshield was cracked, Bruce’s knees were hitting the wall in front because we were right behind the driver, and in chicken bus fashion, we stopped an indeterminate amount of times picking up non-paying people on the side of the road.  We did arrive safely though and in plenty of time to catch a boat to Livingston.

We went out on the lake and we saw the fort, Castillo de San Felipe de Lara.  I would have liked to have explored the fort but time did not allow it.

The boat ride to Livingston was the main reason we wanted to come to Livingston.  Bruce read in a sailing magazine 20 years ago how the canyons were ladened with foliage and flowers.  Unfortunately, no flowers but plenty of foliage.

We stopped at a hot spring on the way where we had a delicious pineapple smoothie.  The smell of rotten eggs, from the sulfur in the springs, radiated through the air.  Even with the smell, the hot water looked very inviting.  One young man who was on our shuttle went in with his shorts on.  He froze the rest of the boat trip and I was glad I didn’t venture in.

We arrived in Livingston and needed to find our hotel.  It was several streets away from the docks.  Bruce and I were exhausted by this time since we woke up at 3:30 a.m. to see the sunrise in Tikal and have been on the move since.  I believe that’s why we fell prey to a shyster named Ricardo.  Instead of telling him nicely to go away we followed him like lambs to the slaughter.  He brought us to our hotel, Hotel Gil Resort, which was just down the street from where we met him and then he waited for us so he could show us the town.  Our bathroom had a gizmo in the shower which I prayed didn’t cause electric shock therapy.  Overall, the hotel was homey and clean and the woman who ran it was sweet.  We took our time unpacking hoping Ricardo would leave, but no such luck.

Ricardo said he lived in New York City for 38 years so we had that in common.  He brought us to all these fringe neighborhoods and Bruce was seriously missing his gun.  He did have a knife on him and he was holding onto it.  Finally, I said I don’t want to walk anymore.  I had walked over six miles that day spent 10 hours traveling and needed to eat.  It was also getting dark.

He took us to a nice restaurant, Margoth Restaurant, where we had a great meal.   Bruce gave Ricardo 50 quetzals to buy him a Cuban cigar.  We thought that would be the last we saw of Ricardo.  He came back with a cigar that appeared to be rolled up rope.  Bruce tried smoking it later that night.  I was afraid he would be drugged.  No drugs just bad whatever it was.  Well we left the restaurant and headed back to our hotel when Ricardo put the squeeze on us.  He wanted 125 quetzals which is about $15 for walking around town with.  We ended up giving him $100 so he’d leave us alone.  Boy did we feel foolish!

On Saturday morning a boat picked us up at the dock at our hotel.  We were headed out to a Caribbean beach and to a place called Seven Altars which is a series of small waterfalls and pools.  We passed a statue in the water called the God of the Sea.

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Our first stop was Seven Altars which looked similar to Samuc Champey.  We spent about an hour hiking in the woods.  It was a cool cloudy day not conducive for swimming although I did work up a sweat on the hike.

Next we headed to Playa Blanca.  I was expecting the beautiful blue waters of the Caribbean but the water was a brownish color.  Again not conducive to swimming.  We relaxed on the beach for several hours, enjoyed lunch and a coconut drink and then headed back.  A storm was brewing and we hit 6 foot swells.  Quite a wild ride.

We ate dinner at a lovely little restaurant on the water.  The food did not compare to food at Margot Restaurant so we had to give kudos to Ricardo for recommending that restaurant.  After dinner we walked around town and came upon a communal washing area.  There are no sidewalks in Livingston and people drive crazy so we cut it short and headed back to our hotel.  Across the street was some type of hall and apparently a party was going on.  We were able to listen to the music of the Garifuna people who are descendants of West and Central Africa and Island Carib.

It was a beautiful, sunny morning and we sat out on our balcony looking out at the ocean.  We saw quite a few birds and a large Iguana in a nearby tree.  I sipped my coffee and took in the tranquility of the scene.

Our boat arrived a little late and almost filled to capacity.   By the time we picked all passengers up at several locations, I am sure we surpassed capacity.   We went very slow due to the boat being so low in the water.   I was glad I knew how to swim.

It was sunny today.  It would have been a great day for the beach.  Oh well.  But it was a nice day for the ride through the canyons.

On arrival in Rio Dulce we had a three hour wait for our bus.  Our backpacks were really heavy.  They aren’t really the best because they don’t distribute the weight.  There was a quaint little restaurant by the dock where we had delicious pancakes.

Our bus arrived at two and again this bus had broken seats and did not look in very good shape.  Bruce had to hold the seat in front of him with his walking stick so it wouldn’t fall in his lap.  Within 30 minutes we broke down.  I laughed.  Bruce wanted to shoot someone.  It was sweltering hot as we sat waiting for the bus to be repaired.  I said a prayer or two.   Within an hour we were back on the road.

We arrived in Guatemala City at around 10 p.m.  Our driver to Antigua was waiting there with a sign with my name on it.  Miracles do happen.  An hour later we were safely back in our little apartment in Antigua.  Life is good!

Published by lisanordlund1

In 2015, I retired and my goal was to do as much traveling as I possibly could. I started the blog for our first month long trip to Panama in October 2015. My sister Linda and her husband Stan joined Bruce and I on our first trip and we decided together on the name the four amigos. Since then, we don’t always travel with them, sometimes just Bruce and I, sometimes other people, whoever wants to join us on our crazy journeys. The name stuck and I grew an affinity to it. So here we are. I invite you to join thefouramigos blog on our next destination.

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