2/18/2015 El Tunco, El Salvador

At 4 AM we bid a sleepy farewell to Antigua from the back seat of a tourist shuttle. We were squeezed out of our human can at the ticabus terminal in Guatemala City. Waiting on the bus Jill and I watched a young man playing with the radio and setting switches. I asked Jill if she thought that was our driver. She replied “I thought he would be much bigger like most bus drivers.” I said “I thought he would have a mustache.” Soon, a tall barrel-chested man with a mustache climbed into the drivers’ seat. Jill’s giggles were contagious. The bus took us through mountains and finally descended into the heat and humidity. The bus entered San Salvador and dumped us and a few others at a tiny stop. I had a few tidbits of information about how to get to El Tunco from our guidebook on the ride. (I’ve been checking out guidebooks on my phone from the library, it’s like magic) Our only problem was the ticabus stop was in San Benito, nowhere near where the guidebook said to catch a bus to El Tunco. I talked to a ticketing agent and was told to go to the terminal de Occidente. We were joined by Peter, another Minnesotan, and all caught a taxi to the bus station. Our taxi was a green ford escort with no taxi markings on it at all. I quickly assumed we were being kidnapped and prepared to subdue the driver and commandeer the car. We arrived at the bus station before I could save us all from an uncertain doom.
We wandered amidst the brightly colored chicken buses until we found the terminal. After some confusing Spanish explanations and the offer of a $40 taxi ride, despair gripped our trio. It seemed we were at the wrong station. Between the three of us we could not decipher that fuera meant outside. Knowing that word would have led us much more confidently to the bus stop directly outside the terminal gate. We made it to El Tunco on the $4 bus instead of the $40 for the cab. I can’t be too mad at the cabbie though, since he flagged down the bus for us in the end. Peter looked for a bed near the beach and Jill and I walked to find a recommendation from Gloria.
We quickly donned shorts and walked to the beach. Playa El Tunco is beautiful. Surfers glide on and tumble from in the waves while nearer shore, swimmers flail in the froth. The beach seems like a 1980’s surf movie. Blonde, tanned muscles in board shorts and bikinis contrast perfectly with the black sand. As we watched the sunset Jill proclaimed we watch the sunset every night we are here. I agreed with her and we went to find some fish tacos.