The Road to Tikal

The town of San Andrés in which I am currently staying is only about 70 kilometers away from Tikal, the most famous Mayan ruins in Guatemala. Eager to see this highlight I decided to take a road tip:

Arriving in Flores (the next biggest city and regional center) many hotels and travel agencies are heavily advertising a shuttle bus to Tikal leaving Flores every hour (round trip tickets cost 50 Quetzals or about 7 USD). Being the savvy traveler that I am (and always happy to avoid the tourists) I know that travel agencies like to take a hefty surcharge and the price of 50 Quetzals seemed disproportionally high in comparison with other bus fares anyway.

So I decide to walk to the local bus terminal to take the collectivo (a.k.a. chicken bus that stops on every corner). After making my way though the market and the maze of collectivos parked there (gong to every little village close by), I finally found a minibus going to Tikal leaving in just a few minutes. Perfect!

The first sign of good things to come was that the conductor (usually a boy yelling out the destination of the bus) could not tell me how much the ticket was. However he promised that the driver would be there in a minute to answer my question. 40 minutes later (at 2:30pm vs. the scheduled departure of 2pm) the driver was still nowhere to be seen. I realized that I had just missed the last travel agency shuttle bus and was told that there would also be no further collectivos until the next day. In other words, this minibus was my only way to Tikal that day. By this time that conductor had done a superb job of filling the 4 row minibus with about 20 people – all waiting patiently for the driver. Another 20 minutes later the hero of the hour patiently exits a nearby restaurant and approaches the bus. Before departing, of course the driver has to greet his colleagues in other minibuses nearby exchanging the daily news. By the time we finally leave it is almost 3pm.

The driver turns around to greet his passengers and it is impossible to miss that he only has 1 eye (well, the second one was practically shut, helplessly pointing toward the far left. “I have seen worse things,” I think to myself, just before the bus turns into a mechanic shop. I breathe a sigh of relief as the driver only reaches for the air pump to re-inflate the tires. Another 10 minutes later we are on the road again. But wait; before the trip could begin we have to stop by the gas station to fuel up. Another 10 minutes later we resume the trip but shortly thereafter the bus comes to a stop at the exact spot were the journey began: “I promised a friend that I would take him,” explains the driver calmly,” but I just cannot find him.” He gets off the bus and walks around the vicinity looking for his friend (with his 1 eye). 10 minutes later he returns (his friend is obviously slightly delayed since it is now 4pm versus the 2pm scheduled departure – coincidentally this was only supposed to be a 1 ½ hour trip, which means that the over-priced travel agency bus has already arrived in Tikal while I was still waiting for my one-eyed bus driver’s elusive friend 2 hours later in 35 degree centigrade (95 F) heat).

But at last the journey begins and we promptly arrive without any other notable complications. 1:45 hours later we finally reach Tikal (these collectivos have the habit of stopping every few kilometers to let passengers enter and exit the bus on demand, which slows down the trip somewhat).

After unloading our backpacks the one-eyed friend asks for payment of 30 Quetzals, which is more that half of the roundtrip for of 50 the travel agency was offering. After even the locals pay this bill I realize that my attempts to negotiate a discount are in vain. Moreover, I realize that my savvyness has just cost me over 2 hours and more money on top of that. But I like to look at it differently: without having taken the local transportation I would not have received this charming reminder of how things operate in Latin America. More importantly, I would not have experienced the amazing attitude and patience the people of this country exhibit. Not one time did I hear a moan or complaint for anybody; instead this 4 hour trip (without air conditioning) was marked by a relaxing cheerful atmosphere.

And so I walk away smiling as well, thankful for the experience and still in time to watch the sun set over the majestic ruins of Tikal.