Thursday, November 24, 2005

We almost got stuck in Palenque for an extra day. By the time we got to a travel agent this morning to work out a way to get to the border and/or across it, it was 8:00 a.m. We didn't know one agency from another, so we just went to the one next door. We thought we'd find out what our options were and then take it from there.

The travel agent informed us that he had a transportation-only package to Flores for $350 pesos, but that the bus leaves at 6:00 a.m. daily and we had already missed it. He said all the busses in town leave at 6:00 a.m. and that there was no longer any transportation to Yaxchilan, or Frontera Corozal, or anything else near the border. But he did have some tours to the waterfalls at Misol-Ha, and here are some pictures of tourists frolicking in the...

We thanked him and got out of there. All of the LP's information on border crossing from Palenque focused on going to Flores, but we don't want to go to Flores. At least, not right away. We want to go immediately to Antigua, or Xela, or somewhere where we can study Spanish for a couple of weeks. Because we really, really need it.

And we didn't want to backtrack 5.5 winding hours to San Cristobal and take the established route from there. So we didn't have the help of a travel agent or a guidebook, but there was a map in the LP showing the border towns. We'd just figure something out on our own. That was our first mistake.

In short order we found a company running collectivos to Fronteral Corozal and other points southeast every half hour for $60 pesos. There is a Migracion office there and then we can take a lancha across the border to Guatemala. We ate a smug breakfast and then picked up our bags and took them to the collectivo office.

The collectivo guy put us in a pre-paid cab with two other people besides the driver. This cab drove us to the edge of town and onto a rutted dirt road into a cornfield. After a brief moment of concern, we emerged into a small lot which held a couple of collectivos (vans). If we had been smug over breakfast, we were even more so as we settled back into our seats in the collectivo.

We wondered about the travel agent. Had he misrepresented things hoping we would buy a transportation package from him tomorrow, and maybe a tour today? Did he not know about the collectivos? Or did he just never imagine gringos riding in other than an air-conditioned tour bus? Whatever. We're so smart.

The collectivo took us down a winding road through verdant hills flowering with the occasional small village. The houses were made of wide wooden boards and were surrounded by trees. As we traveled along the roads, we disturbed foraging chickens and caused small children to pause in their games and watch our progress. It was great. We're smart, smart, smart.

We stopped at various points along the way to pick up and let of passengers. After about two hours, we stopped in front of an Army checkpoint in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. The driver informed us that we were at Frontera Corozal. And that we would have to take a taxi to Frontera Corozal. But...? We never did understand; we just allowed ourselves to be stuffed into another taxi with another couple of strangers. The ride took about half an hour and cost us $20 pesos each.

Finally we pulled to a stop in front of a concrete building labeled Migracion. It was surrounded by a green gate, which was locked. By the time we noticed this and mustered up enough Spanish to try to ask why, the taxi driver had pulled our bags out of the trunk and was almost back in his seat. "Si, Migracion," he said to us, and slammed his door and drove off.

After we'd walked back and forth in confusion and just before we began to make fools of ourselves by calling out, a kid on a bike came by and told us the Migracion officials were probably out to lunch. Lunch, of course. So we decided to have some lunch of our own and come back later.

The town was small, but they had a nice outdoor restaurant. As we were finishing up, we met a French backpacker named Julien who, in true backpacker style, said that since we were going to Guatemala, he would come with us. Except that he wanted to go to Bethel and on to Flores. It's $350 pesos for up to three persons on a lancha to Bethel and we had no interest in Flores. It's $20 pesos per person to La Technical, which is almost directly on the other side of the river. We assumed we could get a bus or something from there. So we had to disappoint Julien.

We had a brief moment of trouble at Migracion when we couldn't produce tourist cards, but when we explained that we had come through Tijuana, there was a collective "ahh," and the matter was dropped. So we got our exit stamps, bid adieu to Julien, and went down to the embarcadero, where a teenage boy ferried us across the river in a lancha.

The Mexican side of the river had a concrete ramp and steps. The Guatemalan side of the river was a muddy rock path meandering up the steep riverbank. This was our first clue that all might not be well. But we had made it to Guatemala, hadn't we? And so far we had only paid $100 pesos each. That's good, right?

HOURS IN A COMBI/COLLECTIVO: 3.5

HOURS IN A TAXI: 1

HOURS IN A LANCHA: .55

 

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En route across the Rio Usmacinta from Mexico to La Technica, Guatemala.

Welcome to Guatamala!