What started out as a last-minute tiny/small change of plans went wierd…the idea was to load up in the Beige Bomb and head for the coastal town of Santa Lucia Cotzumalguapa, turn at the El Calvario Church and follow the dotted line northweird to the El Baul Museo…right. Based on the recommendation of a ‘normally’ reliable source for local road info, it was suggested that instead we take the ‘scenic route.’…Up/over the backside…er, the ‘other side’ of Acatenango via San Miguel Duenas, on the ‘good, paved road’ and then drop down into the Pacific towns of Quisache and Yepocapa…turning ‘right at the gas station.’….yeah, right…one thing about driving around in what may be the only one of two Mercury Cougars in this country, is that everyone stares…yep, that’s right, Pancho…4 old gringos just went by, in a cloud of dust.’
there was a ‘minor wrong way’ at the gas station but quickly solved thanks to some local women…a reverse and oops…we went’ left’ back there, not right and from that point, all was good: good, newly paved asphalt roads here and there, light traffic and at last, the El Baul Musuem, set in the midst of a large cane farm/finca…yep, it was surprisingly good…lotta stone heads, altars, zoomorphs, old steam engines and definitely warmer/humider..is that a word? did the museum, talked with the folks…’big time numbers for attendance this year..we were #33 for the year..
All was good til after we stopped for lunch…past Matzaball-tenango and the traffic jam from Hell,aka Guatemala…a wreck, forty miles/two lanes of frustrated truckers et al and four sweaty/dusty old farts…add in the dust from the mornings’ excursion up Acatenango and our complexions went from white to demi-Arabic…Retalhuleu by 7pm, 10 hours later from the 9:30 at the Park…the most xlnt Hotel Astor, a bottle of scotch from the El Torre mercado around the corner, a shower and me..’zee, the lights, zee went out.’
Not so for a couple of others…i swore not to write about unspeakable acts and I’m not. The fact is, that within 30 minutes of our arrival last night in Antigua, the ‘chisme’ factor had kicked in and most everyone knew about the ‘event in the night’…it wasn’t a pretty picture and apparently not the first time..more like at least the 2nd or 3rd time…let’s just say that a couple of things were learned: never ever share a room with ______ unless you have: A. _____, B______ and C_____.
I’m happy: the ‘behind the scenes’ tour at TakaLik Abaj was great, I found a variety of Campbell’s Soup in Reyo plus a bag of assorted fireworks and we got home safe, mostly sound and at record speeds…’and how many sets of brake pads do you go through every year, Tom?”…oh, about one…’bout every 5 or 6000 miles..or so..the avowed plan of finding the giant petroglyph/monolith last seen 40 years ago by the Perfesser will wait for another time/year/month…maybe January, now that we know NOT to take the ‘scenic route’…
Our Man in Antigua 
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