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On the road again – Day 20


Posted by | Evil Kristos | February 5, 2009 | No Comments

The evening in Livingston turned out rather interesting. As I probably mentioned I liked the place. It’s not exactly a little paradise but it certainly has something to it.

I went for dinner to a little place down at the beach. My friend Pedro hat recommended it. Pedro was the guy that had picked me up at the port and walked with me to the hotel.

He was an oldish Jamaican looking guy, pretty mellow and in a way entertaining. I didn’t mind him and it seemed to be his job to wait at the port picking people up and pretending to the hotels that he had brought them there. While we walked we talked a little and he gave me a flyer of this place.

I normally wouldn’t feel obliged to go there but when I walked around in the afternoon I saw the place and I liked it. Also I didn’t see any other restaurant that appealed to me so I gave it a go.

The lady who run the place was Mexican but apparently spent some time in India. She talked a lot and all I wanted was something to eat. While I was waiting two girls appeared that I had briefly talked to in the Finca Ixobel. We recognised each other and greeted us like old friends. It’s funny how you can make a connection in a very short time while travelling.

The girls had dragged a local and another guy with them and they joined me at my table. We had a few drinks and chatted. They told me that the local had followed them and invited them to a live session. It sounded rather weird but the girls were up for it and so I joined in.

The local was a young rastafari that obviously liked his Ganja. He was stoned as a crow and giggled the whole time. He led us the the outskirts of town to a small place that seemed to serve as small restaurant but mainly as their home. We sat down and waited for “the band”.

More and more people arrived and all except one looked liked our young friend; long dreads and stoned out of their heads. One of the girls looked at me and asked: Did you watch Hostel? I had to laugh because I was just thinking the same. This whole situation was extremely dodgy but it was too late to do anything about it.

At some stage the guys started playing and they were awful. Three of them played some sort of bongo and one on a turtle shell. The whole thing was simply bizarre. We made the best of it and when finally the opportunity presented itself we buggered off. The girls went home and I went back to my hotel as well.

I sat down on my terrace and enjoyed the view. Only minutes later hell broke loose. A storm with heavy rain approached rapidly. I had just made it in time. It was quite a sight but it was also bad news. I had planned to leave early the next morning.

When I woke up it was still raining. There was no chance I’d go anywhere in this weather. I turned around and fell asleep again. Hours later the rain suddenly stopped but it was much later than I had hoped to get out of town.

The way to Monterico is far and not exactly straight forward. I hadn’t really figured out how to get there. All I knew was I had to take a boat to Puerto Barrio and then a bus to Guatemala City. It all worked out quite alright but by the time I was in the capital it was 6 and I still had to find a working ATM.

I was stuck and that was the end to it. At least the weather was a little better. Since there was nothing I could do about it I might as well enjoy it. Easier said than done in Guatemala City. The place just stinks.

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