El Salvador and Honduras

Leaving Panajachel we had a beautiful drive from the Altiplano back down to sea level, where we were welcomed to a night at Casa A-Fin-ity, a sport fishing and paragliding destination. Word of mouth and generous fellow air lovers led us there. The Casa features a full-service bar and kitchen, a handful of double and single rooms, a disco, a movie screen and projector, a sweet pool and hot tub surrounded by palapas and hamacas, and even 2 heli pads out front for easy access volcano flying. Davis and Benjamin have developed multiple flying sites in the area with the help of visiting pilots. They hooked us up with lots of info and good vibes. We’re looking forward to checking out their sites and doing some flying with their crew on our way back North.

After our night of luxury at the Casa, we pointed it for the border—to El Salvador! We had another multi-hour wait at immigration and customs--thanks to a malfunctioning printer this time (ain’t technology awesome!?). When we finally got through, we pushed over to the Balsomar coast and arrived at the black sand beach of El Palmarcito just after sunset. Visiting this stretch of coastline North of the port town of La Libertad took us a ways off of the Pan-American, but it was well worth the detour. The terrain is rugged and the highway winds along the coastline through tunnels and over bridges. There are breezy clifftop restaurants and miradores, pretty beaches, great surf, and flying too! We went exploring with the van and found one of the launches that the local pilots have developed. The sea breeze wasn’t cooperating with much wind, but Becca still had a nice sled ride down to a secluded beach. She got to chat with the nice owners about paragliding and skydiving and fend off security guys with big guns while I figured out how to convince the guards at the private gate to let the chalk van through to retrieve her.

The following day, we ventured into San Salvador and met up with Julio Vega, a local pilot who has pioneered several flying sites in El Salvador. We met at a "Mister Donut" near the US embassy in the city. While we didn't try any donuts, the breakfast was surprisingly good. He guided us to nearby Lake Ilopango, which sits inside a volcanic crater and offers good ridge soaring on the right day. We had a fun flight scratching with vultures and landed down in the pristine LZ—a country club on the lakeshore featuring some of the nicest grass we’ve seen in a long time. The local club is small but passionate— some paramotor pilots joined in the fun too!  If you’re looking for flying adventure in El Salvador, Julio and his guiding servie—Akwaterra—can show you the way. From Ilopango, we headed a bit further SE, hoping to get closer to the Honduran border for an early start the following day.

 We found a great campsite by another crater lake just outside the little pueblo of Alegria. The town sits on the shoulder of a dormant volcano and features narrow winding streets, stunning views, and happy people (naturally). We drove up and up and up through coffee plantations, marveling at the view of the plains below and another bald, smoking volcano a few miles away. We drove right up to the shores of sulphurous Laguna de Alegria, played Chuckit with a very happy Rok as the sun was setting, and walked the mile or so back down to town on the cobblestone road past farm gates and coffee trees for dinner on the square. Pizza, fresh-baked bread, and some Central American-Italian fusion caprese salad. Our walk back up to the lake was quiet and just cool enough to relieve us from the stifling heat of the Salvadorian afternoon. We gazed at the bright stars and returned to the van, where we were discovered we were again the only campers in sight.

Since we were already a bit behind our projected arrival date in Costa Rica, we had decided to push through the narrow bit of Honduras the next day and try to make it through the Southeastern border with Nicaragua before sunset. We had also heard horror stories of the border crossings and a slew of corrupt police checkpoints asking for bribes along the well-travelled route between El Salvador and Nicaragua. After a few Central American borders, we have learned that random delays are the norm (as are mountains of photocopies, stamps, and very official-looking paperwork from not-so-official-looking people). We conjured up a big dose of good old fashioned patience, crossed our fingers, and practiced our happy calm gringo faces.

So we woke up at the crack of dawn, made some coffee, and hit the road. Well, almost. When we went to the entrance of the park, we discovered we were stuck inside—the big metal gate was chained shut with a hefty padlock. We weren’t sure if they were trying to secure the park or trying to hold us hostage, but the guy that was supposedly guarding the entrance shack all night was nowhere to be found (or an incredibly heavy sleeper). As I used my bank robber skills and attempted to pick the lock, Becca used her detective skills and found another exit where the locked loop of chain had been hung on a nail on the side post of the gate, rather than wrapped around it. We were free! We just had to drive around the lake to get the van to the other exit. Fortunately it only set us back about half an hour, because we used every bit of daylight we had to get through the two borders and 134km of Honduras.

We arrived at el Amatillo and got through immigration just in time to be foiled at customs by the lack of internet once again. We waited a few hours for the internet to come back and eventually got all the photocopies and permits taken care of (including Rok’s official permission to pass through the country for 24 hours), and waited again for the bank employees to get back from lunch so we could pay our customs fees, it was 1 PM and HOT. In the meantime we had bought a stack of the most delicious fresh tortillas of the trip, avocado, cheese, and fresh lime juice (our staple road snack) to get us around the Golfo de Fonseca.

Our quick trip through Honduras was fairly uneventful. The road was decent, there was less traffic than other places, and the multiple cops we encountered at 5 different stops were nothing but polite and brief. We feel very fortunate that we haven’t been asked for a single bribe on our entire journey and that everyone has been welcoming and friendly along the way. Turns out it’s hard for policemen to keep a straight face when they see a set of Mexican cow horns on a front bumper. They generally can’t help but crack a smile as they bend down to check that our license plates match our import permits. The chalk art seems to break the ice a bit too. Rok still isn’t buying it—he usually tries to bite their hands off if they reach in to grab a driver’s license or passport.

Although some of the roadside towns seemed more impoverished than their neighbors, we got an overall positive vibe from Honduras. We may be back to explore some of the gorgeous-looking sites to the North and West after a little more research and planning in a few months.

The Honduran/Nicaraguan border of Guasale was an absolute dream—no lines, no fuss, no broken internet, no bank fees and wandering around looking for misplaced offices. The customs officials were downright friendly and we cruised through with happy faces and our sights set on the Northern beach town of Jiquilillo. We felt so good we even picked up some hitchhikers just past the border who unfortunately turned out to be rather stoic and existential Germans who were trying to get back to their commune and seemed bored of life and us. We ditched them after an hour and headed for the coast. The landscape changed immediately—from hot dry scrubby hills to vast green fields dotted with dramatic volcanoes and cowboys herding cattle—yay. We arrived at Rancho Esperanza in the dark and discovered cool palapas, big organic veggie dinners served family-style around long wooden tables, beachfront hammocks, and lots of hip people chilling out. There’s also a sprawling lawn perfect for camping. We liked it so much we had to stay 2 nights. Stay tuned for more photos from Rancho Esperanza!