We left the campground as planned after a slow start following a route worked out by my able navigator. “Money” she said. This being El Salvador we can load up with greenbacks at any ATM but her plan was to not pay any transaction fees which sounds innocuous enough but it turns out the no fee ATM is plumb in the center of traffic hell, also known as the city of Sonsonate.
For some reason known only to Google Maps we just had to approach the bank through narrow congested streets on what appeared to be market day. Luckily this kind of driving doesn’t bother me but Layne keeps making noises about how relaxed I am so I suspect some people may set their hair on fire not hitting umbrellas and failing to kill pedestrians while not getting struck by oncoming Formula One drivers.
Its dirt roads that wear me out as they require concentration and I hate listening to my home bounce over washboard or lurch into potholes
Salvadorans it turns out are not patient drivers. They aren’t as bad as Guatemalans but you should have heard the orchestra for car horns and loud engine noises that lit up when we missed a light owing to an over enthusiastic windshield cleaner. We like to pay street people for their work but she wouldn’t stop even as the light went green. The horns sounded but I wasn’t going to kill her no matter what they wanted.
The bank was a tight squeeze and the security guard kicked me out but I found a spot to park around the corner. I sent Layne a WhatsApp message but before she got it the same security guard made sure she knew where I’d gone. These people really are incredibly patient with us.
Above we see a very popular 50cc Indian built car which doesn’t require all the bureaucracy of a full sized car to operate. You’ll often see them working as cabs and they stuff them full of people and possessions. Those and the ox cart below make my 45 mph average look like the speed of light on the highways.
If you feel like piece of fresh fruit on the freeway don’t despair. Someone will set up a stand and wait for you. What you do is light up your four way flashers and pull over (I fold my mirrors in for psychological reasons!) and buy what you need. Traffic will swerve around you no problem. Really.
You may not be used to pedestrians hauling stuff on the freeway but don’t be surprised. Everyone gets to use these roads. You’ll see cattle horses and goats snacking on the public verges enjoying the highway grass.
In Mexico, a prosperous country, local buses (“collectivos”) are small vans but down here where the standard of living is lower they make do with converted pick ups like this:
I hope the photo below shows the size of the container but I can tell you if you made your lunch out of this box you would be full. Roast pork, yucca (a starch) pickled onions and coleslaw and a lot of it for one dollar. That gives you an idea of the cost of living around here. It’s cheap for us of course but they are getting by.
We went looking for lunch in a town I can’t pronounce, all Indian syllables, Juayúa, but found only some fairly uninteresting pies.
Not an exciting lunch but we gave it a try. And I collected a few pictures walking the town. Rusty is on a leash for his own protection so I can keep him close and encourage him. He has a tendency to run back to the van if he sees street dogs. I have noticed the local dogs here are far less aggressive than in Mexico and he is finding his feet. But still I like him close on the narrow crowded sidewalks of course.
Someone found the air conditioned store.
Layne wanted fruit so we pulled over after we passed a fruit truck making a sale and as he pulled out to keep driving she flagged him down.
She sits in the back with the fruit and household items while he drives.
They do have more traditional fixed stores !
The dog below just looks like Rusty.
