What Does The Cervix Feel Like During Your Period

2010-03-19 Puerto Barrios de Montréal

The lancha does finally put that 20 minutes along the coast to Puerto Barrios. We must rise to this commercial port has a multinational, in the '60s, produced by 80% of world production of bananas. She had therefore developed the infrastructure necessary for such export volume. Since then, the port has been greatly developed because of its privileged geographical position to share with the old continent and Africa. But the city remains murky and soulless. You do not stay in Puerto Barrios. It passes. The streets are dusty and somewhat engaging.

We put our bags in a quiet room'''' and have been buying our bus tickets at the bus station, opposite the market. We had seats 1 and 2: great, we'll be at the forefront in order to at least enjoy the scenery! In the streets around the market close, the apparent general disorganization was impressive. There was an air of cheerful''mess''(without any connotation of prostitution). Since there was nothing to do for tourists as we are, we returned to the room. Sylvia completed her book bought in Thailand (a true travel book!) While I was napping. A''quiet room''we said the keeper. It should be hard of hearing the gentleman. For in front of our room was a garage that retyping cars and hilly streets after, it was the trading port with its continual ballet of trucks carrying containers. There was also the guy who was repairing his car alarm and rang incessantly. Besides the roosters who competed vocal prowess. So much for the ears. For the rest of the body, there were ants and other chips to bed, who undertook to make me legs ... A real pet!

In the evening as the sun rolled to the horizon was hidden behind a mountain of containers of bananas, we returned near the market to eat. Traders bent shop. At least what they used to store, namely a plate, trestles and some plastic sheeting. We sat on a terrace to enjoy a lemonade. Looking at the life that was spread on the sidewalk. In contemplating these workers and workers who were returning home after a long day. But also to make a first assessment of the 2 weeks ending. Quietly. Inexorably. Around 21:00, we returned to our room along the container yard. The trucks had not yet ceased their ballet. Flashes their headlights traced in lourde poussière. Un vraie zone industrielle cette ville !

Le lendemain matin, nous avons rejoint la station de bus pour 7h00. Un superbe autobus à 2 étages se présenta. Au moins, notre retour commencerait dans le confort. En attendant le départ, nous avons pris un café en filmant la vie qui reprenait son cours. Après une courte nuit de répit.

Le trajet fut effectivement des plus confortables. Les 5 heures sont passées plutôt rapidement. La route était variée. Nous avons quitté la région dense et humide de la côte Est pour monter lentement sur l’altiplano, à plus de 1000 mètres d’altitude. Lentement, la végétation s’est éclaircie and the grass began to turn yellow and eventually disappear and give way to an arid land. Sometimes the road went in to make a lace collar and then back down into the valley below. I've always enjoyed watching the roads from all countries. The latter, in its transition from the wet to dry, not unlike the road from Cape Town (South Africa) to Windhoek (Namibia). We left edge of the Atlantic where there was a relatively lush vegetation, and then we walked along the fertile valley of Ceres (from which the juice of the same name) surrounded by snowy peaks. When we arrived early morning, we were on the edge of the Kalahari Desert, one of the driest in the world. A sort of''Road Trip''climate could say!

At Guatemala City, we immediately jumped into a taxi to the airport. Our flight took off in 3 hours but we wanted to avoid at all costs dense traffic jams at the end of the afternoon. After swallowing a sandwich at Subway''''we were taking off to Mexico where we were to spend the night. After

1:30 flight, we were in sight of the city''bowl''(because of its location surrounded by volcanoes). The view was absolutely fabulous. The sky was particularly clear. The snow-capped volcanoes stood in front of us. The sun sank over the horizon not without igniting the sky. Nature gave us this show as to make us forget that we were on our way home. In any case, it was much appreciated.

The passage of the Immigration and Customs completed, we were taking a taxi to our hotel. Since we had a night to spend in Mexico, he had to make a choice between an airport hotel, very convenient but expensive and soulless, and a hotel downtown, then tell us to get up earlier but we could perhaps see a little piece of this mysterious city. Me in charge of booking, I took a long time to decide. Having nosed on the Internet, I finally found a perfectly honorable compromise. I told Sylvia had found a''small''Posada (rooming house) apparently comfortable. I told him that we expect hot water, to end this trip. She had no idea where we were going. The taxi driver, I mentioned the address :''70, Avenida Juarez, Reforma.'' After 30 minutes to get downtown, we arrived at the door of our inn''.'' As a''''Posada, we would spend the night at the Hilton Reforma in Mexico City. Sylvie, who dreamed of washing their hair and take a good shower, confirmed to me that we should indeed have hot water!

The porter took our bags on her beautiful golden chariot. In the hall, a swarm of security guards equipped with headsets were assembled and appeared on''war footing,''as if something prepared. At the counter we were greeted with courtesy but with an eye ... just curious. Indeed, it is not every day that they must have''backpackers''disembarking. Moreover, we were up early, had done more than 5 hours by bus, taxi and 1 hour about 2 hours. I had not shaved for two weeks and we were dressed in more urban explorers! But the service was excellent. We got our bags in our room on the 20th floor. There was more space than the 2 rooms of the house and met the city view was spectacular.

After we changed, we went out to go and enjoy your surroundings. In front of the hotel, dozens of people came, all dressed in their finest clothes. The men in suits, women in evening dress. The average age is relatively young, we thought a prom (graduation party) a great school.

soon we had been out that we were surprised by the surroundings. A large park facing the hotel. Dozens of vendors of all kinds were selling all sorts of things from the thousands who were there. In the distance a band was playing music. We took to the right and walked along the avenue narrows into a very nice little street. Everywhere in the world, the world and yet the world (we were on Saturday night). The facades of old houses were covered with colorful ceramics, English style, very Moorish. We were right in the center of Old Mexico. Sumptuous churches. Old stones. Music groups. Terraces crowded. A vibrant atmosphere. That won us over to return a few days to visit this very charming town in such a short time.

After we stopped to eat, we made our way back. Density people''Sunday best''increased gradually as we approached the hotel. Some girls were well dressed he would not be surprising that they have caught pneumonia that night!

And when we finally got to our hotel, it was clear that something was happening. Hundreds of people were gathered in front of the doors. All the better dressed than the others. Many of them waved in the air a purple envelope appeared to be an invitation. In front of the glass doors, cabinets of''ice''retained the crowd. We now understand why security officers were planning full when we arrived! Certainly, the evening which was held at the hotel was to be THE night on the town that night. Without access to doors, I then lifted the card from my hotel room in the air and cried myself that we had a room here. The monster security guard who was several yards in front have a hearing cat, we took a look, saw the hotel card in the air and immediately extended his long arms into the crowd to keep people ahead of him. The eyes are Turned and as motorists who gareraient to let an ambulance, the crowd was split so that we can force our way. What customer service, does not it? I must confess that I could not help thinking that this is what many celebrities have to live every day: the crowd dense, impenetrable and a bodyguard who sees them and opens a gap for that they can''bypass''the whole world. We, we just wanted to go to bed!

After finding the joys of a hot shower (2 weeks in cold water was enough), we could spend a night in the luxury of a bed of Hilton without waking to the sound of the cock, without chips bed, without being too hot nor too cold. At 4:00, the alarm sounded. We had coffee in our room before we set off. The hotel taxi took only 15 minutes to lead us to the airport. The result was easier than usual. At 7:05, the bridge came loose from the fuselage of our A319s. Our next steps would be on Canadian soil, after 5 hours.

That concludes our little expedition in Guatemala. 2 weeks of viewing pleasure, pleasure of the heart. Of pleasures of life to the discovery of a rich culture and welcoming. We found a warm people in Guatemala and curious who does not hesitate to ask questions and welcome you into their country as soon as you can speak a few words of English. It is very comforting for us to see through the eyes of people we meet pleasure to welcome us without us take for''walking''ATM (ATM vendors). We enjoyed this trip as we all love our trips. We grew up. Again. And hope not to have left a negative impression too deep in this country still relatively preserved from mass tourism. It's up to each of us to ensure that the original is still the benefit of tourism more real, more human, more responsible.

look forward to reading your comments and see you soon for another adventure.

Marius and Sylvie

... To continue to get away with us:
Photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/MariusetSylvie
Videos: http://www.youtube.com/mariusetsylvie
Write to us directly: mariusetsylvie@gmail.com

Who Will Sell My Ballroom Costume

a Livingston

The 3 hour trip passed quickly. We off the bus in Rio Dulce, a town named River running through it. But it was the only one step on the road to final destination: Livingtson on the edge of the Caribbean Sea.

We reached the edge of the river to take the public lancha (departures less frequent but much less expensive than private lanchas!) And 13.30, we are slender. We were told that the raid an hour and a half to Livingston was worth it. The first thing that struck us was the high concentration of upscale homes in front of which were moored luxury yachts. All U.S. flag. In fact, this part of the river is a place of residence privileged of our neighbors to the south. Many of them are a foot to the ground in front of which they can moor their boats. Thus, in a few hours, they can join one of the dream destinations nearby: Belize, Honduras, coral reef, white sand beaches ... many names that make you dream and end are just a few hours of the Sea. The price of houses and lands not to be here only a fraction of what they cost in the most prestigious locations (eg Caribbean), this should enable their owners to invest in a boat that will give them the opportunity discover the region from the sea ..

Further, the river widened to become a vast lake. After having deposited a few people up and having skirted the islands invaded by birds (mainly and pelicans), the river has again narrowed to become dizzy walled gorges. Around us stretched the jungle. In the sky and water, hundreds of pelicans were busy sinning. The scene was truly magical. For a moment we thought we were going down the Nam Ou River in Laos!

Then the river widened to open sea, we sailed along the coast a few minutes and Livingston appeared. Forward port, clouds of seagulls had stormed the small fishing boats au mouillage. Des pélicans candides trônaient fièrement sur les pieux d'un ponton aujourd'hui disparu. Sur le quai, les traits des habitants nous annonçaient que nous venions de changer de culture. Ici, les origines viennent de la Caraïbe. Ces déportés de Saint-Vincent se nomment les Garifunas. La peau est noire et le reggae résonne fort. L'âme de Bob le bienveillant n'est jamais bien loin. Le rythme est différent lui aussi. Aucune route ne mène a Livingston. On y vient par l'eau. C'est tout. Dans les rues, quelques autos, mais surtout des motos. La vie semble aller au ralenti. Un petit goût de bout du monde.

Apres avoir été manger un morceau (pour ne pas être de mauvaise humeur!), we went to a room. This was the last 2 days of our trip. After that, it would return trip. The view over the sea, if possible, was then a deep wish. Few institutions have this opportunity. We therefore ask the question the only guesthouse directly overlooking the water. They remained of a place. The room normally worth 300 quetzales. We proposed the 200. We had a 150. Cold shower, of course, but overlooking the Sea

Late afternoon, relaxing time to contemplate the night fall, a synonym for departure for the fishing fleet. A myriad of small boats took to sea, in single file. With a beer and some chips, the kit was perfect to write a little.

The night we were eating at Mama Bugga'''', a restaurant overlooking the harbor and whose characteristic is to help local youngsters by teaching them work in restaurants, like the restaurant'' Friends''in Phnom Penh. On the menu tonight, mixed ceviche, grilled fish for me''and''concha for Sylvie. Concha''''? What's that? That question was posed by reading the menu. A sort of''seafood''told us our young waiter. So we ordered. Now it appears that the concha''''is a big shell that we sell in toues destinations tourist seaside Beautiful and large shell-shaped pink snail with a serrated edge. However, we did not know is that his flesh is relatively ... rubbery. If not very rubbery. But it was a culinary experience. And linguistics. For now, we are what a concha''''!

The next day, woke up early. The sea was oil and a big flight of pelicans circling in front of our room. We had lunch at the guesthouse. The view from their dining room is absolutely beautiful. Later, we set out to discover more Livingston. We wandered on a small street near the port. A strong smell in the air. On our right appeared a large area completely covered with concrete fish drying in the sun. Men were busy in filling large canvas bags. Farther to the left, the same scene. Everywhere, fish open and spread out to dry. Wings skate. Skipjack. Mackerel. And many other species as''flattened''prevents us from recognizing! The pontoons had become driers in the open air. Everywhere, men and returned the fish sorted according to their degree of drying. Impressive array. And impressive smell! The fish were caught during the winter and were put in barrels of brine (salt water). In spring, the springs to dry them and send them to a wholesaler in Guatemala City that would undertake to sell them worldwide. A true pride fish here. A puffy-eyed fish (he returned later and had slept little, certainly, but had had to take something to help him sleep!) Invited me to sit by his side to chat about everything and nothing . I took the opportunity to ask him to take his picture. But he asked me to give him a copy. We went to see what we could do ...

stomachs crying famine, we stopped in a comedor''''for''the''almuerzo. At the end of the meal, I went with the camera's memory card to print some photos and give them to players. So I went back to see the fisherman who had fallen asleep again puffy eyes in his hammock. So deeply that even another fisherman managed to pull him from his torpor. What a deep sleep, is not it? However, I handed the photos to other fishermen who were present. Those who returned the fish and returned them yet. Within seconds, they all ran, looking at the pictures with great astonishment and pride. Their eyes were sending emotions that could be translated in any way, such as bright the old gentleman in the red shirt and white cap who shook my hand hard thanking me for doing so. I asked myself the question how many of them have a photo of themselves at home. May be-one. Maybe none. Certainly tonight, 6 of them would have a picture of them to show their family and friends. It was the principal.

We crossed the village and went to walk further west along the beach''.'' You should know that despite all the romanticism and all the imagination that may apply to the Caribbean Sea, all along that the odds are not an earthly paradise of white sand lined with coconut trees. At Livingston, the coconut trees. But what is sand bench could use some work (there is one but 30 minutes of lancha!). Here it would be''more coconuts, toilet paper and plastic bottles.'' Indeed, Guatemala is very underdeveloped in terms of waste collection. Or not developed at all. And Livingston, as at the end of the world, obviously not immune to the rule. Therefore, the waste usually end up ... where they were produced. They are thrown into the street in front of the house. Behind the house, in the River. At the roadside. Suffice to say that all this is found quickly in the sea What n'offre donc guère de possibilités pour des baignades exotiques. Seule la maladie que vous pourriez attraper demeurera exotique!

Nous avons donc longé cette plage un peu triste pour nous enfoncer dans le quartier noir de Livingston. Plusieurs bars s'y succèdent. Des bars plutôt glauques ou on vient surtout pour se saouler. Tiens, 2 occidentaux nous dépassent accompagnés par un ''rasta''. Une visite guidée? Ici? Étrange...

Nous continuons a marcher et tout a coup, un bruit étrange attire notre attention. Sur notre gauche, une rue plutôt abrupte. Plus haut, des enfants ''manigancent'' quelque chose. Soudain, l'un d’entre eux semble s'élancer dans la pente and noise is heard again. What was our surprise we find that children who was gliding down the street perched on plastic crates for bottles of Coca-Cola and Pepsi. They sat on it and slid on the hot concrete of the street. We spent some time observing them and immortalize this great time on our memory cards.

We continued our journey on the beach. Here, the two were now leaning against Western on a boat and stared at us curiously. Seconds later, they returned. The''Rasta''called them. They came close. He showed them something they felt and exchanged un regard complaisant. Ils devaient être venus si loin dans ce trou perdu pour acheter des épices... des herbes de Provence peut-être... Triste réalité que ce tourisme de la dope. Rien de bon pour les touristes, mais surtout rien de bon pour ces locaux qui se cantonnent dans ce microcosme malsain. Ce n'est pas avec ce genre de comportements qu'on va rendre le tourisme utile. Voilà pourquoi il nous est difficile de montrer une quelconque pitié ou peine pour celles et ceux qui croupissent dans des geôles étrangères pour possession ou consommation de stupéfiants et qui crient au scandale quand leur gouvernement ne les aide pas a sortir de la. Sauf cas particuliers, il fallait y penser avant. Avant de s'en aller sur cette plage pour buy a few grams of resin.

Then we came back in again through the black neighborhood. One woman refused to sell me an orange. A man accepted with a big smile and a polite little note. A good lesson about the fact that you should never build an experienced individual to generalize the behavior of a culture or society.

Before returning to our room, we stopped in a small bar street to buy a beer, just to take a drink in front of the Sea in Livingston last evening. Sylvie began chatting with the 3 children who did their homework. When they show pictures with the camera. A film them and show them the result. I finally had my beer on site. We took pictures of 3 children with parents. Then we went to develop photos in order to recover. Like the fishermen, it was very interesting to see the reactions of everyone by being immortalized on paper as well.

Then we were feasting on specialties of the place: Sylvia,''a''tapado, a kind of local fish soup flavored with coconut. Absolutely divine. For my part, it was a fried prawns with garlic and coriander. Not bad either!

The next morning we had time to relax a little. Our lancha not leave until 11:00. I went to get coffees and some pastries we have eaten with sea one last time. Before the next. But here, we would work ...

At 10:30, we put our bags on the back and have joined the small port. Tickets in hand, we had a few more minutes to enjoy this little corner of paradise lost. At 11:00, we were in the slender lancha and we slowly but surely to return to Montreal. Our first stop was Puerto Barrios, 30 minutes lancha, or we take a bus early the next morning.

Vauxhall Combo Ply Template

2010-03-17 10-03-16 2010-03-15

The minibus prit un peu plus d'une heure a couvir les 60 kilometres qui nous séparaient du site. Finalement, il nous déposa sur un grand stationnement en terre, poussiéreux a souhait. Tikal est le noyau de la biosphere Maya (c'est ainsi qu'ils se définissent). Le site offre donc aux visiteurs des dizaines de ruines datant de l'époque Maya. Un peu comme Tchitchen Itza au Mexique. A la différence que le taux de fréquentation est encore incomparable avec le site mexicain, et que la végétation a ici été conservée dans l'état ou le lieu était lors de sa découverte en 1848. On évolue donc en pleine foret tropicale sans jamais savoir ce sur quoi on va tomber. Le site est simple mais les restaurations sont beautifully crafted.

After taking our tickets, we are left with their hands in the plan that Annie and John had kindly let us (otherwise it's $ 5 for the map!). The first temple was modest. But already, one could imagine the work that was done to free the pyramid of the dense surrounding forest. Between two sites, we rertouvions quickly in the forest. Fauna and flora were impressive to discover. The observation of howler monkeys. The woodpecker doing sound blows of his beak on the tree trunks. Flights from toucans posing any pocket to show off their colorful beak. Hinds and their grace. In short, a permanent show!

Le 2e temple, au pied duquel se tenaient des fouilles, offrait un acces jusqu'a son sommet. Mais pas par les marches originales, encore encombrées par la nature. Mais par un immense escalier en bois aménagé a meme son flanc. Ainsi, nous pouvions monter de façon sécuritaire, mais surtout, sans endommager le temple lui-meme. Cela est une excellente idée car dans bien des sites tres fréquentés, on peut monter sur les temples par les acces originaux. Cependant, a la longue, les pieds des millions de touristes finissent par endommager irrémédiablement les surfaces, au point de devoir les changer, ce qui occasionne des couts extremement élevés si on veut reproduire a l'identique, mais également that distorts the very origins of the site since some parts are more than cut the creators.

Once arrived at the top of sixty meters, we get a splendid view to 180 degrees on the entire site of Tikal. In the distance stood out above the tops of the forest other temples. What a magical moment once more.

We have spent many hours discovering the site of Tikal, going from temple to temple. One of them offered few thrills. Indeed, to access a Sobna summit, he had to climb a huge wooden staircase as steep as a ladder. 2 tiny ramps allowed to stand. After having climbed all platforms, we finally arrived at the top of the temple. The view was equally breathtaking and frightening for someone who suffers from vertigo ... like me! The original staircase proved a stiff and formidable walls around were breathtaking. But from the top, the view was splendid on the greatest monuments, the famous''centrality''. This was moreover the last monument we visited during the day. She was 2-entourrée imposing temples and one of which is the symbol of Guatemala. The quality of the place was breathtaking. The accuracy of the restoration that has taken 30 years was remarkable. One might have expected to find ourselves in the middle a ball game was the time Maya. This allowed us to better appreciate our change of route. If things were not well aligned, we would not have come so far. It was not the end of the world. But we would have missed a nice place to visit and high historical significance in the Mayan culture.

Towards 15h00, while the sun was involved in its the atmosphere, we took a minibus to go to Flores. The day was relatively late. Reading for Sylvie and backup data (photos and videos) for me.

the evening, we paid''milking''. Backpackers, yes. But gourmets too sure. While we were dining on the romantic terrace restaurant la luna''''to sample local dishes. A kind of ragout of octopus and a fish for Sylvie Lake grilled for me. Simply délcieux. While Sylvie was finishing his vanilla ice cream accompanied by caramelized plantain bananas and honey, a huge storm broke. Enormous. A sort of tropical storm. Luckily, we were sheltered by a petut yard. Upon leaving, the boss gave us a little rum to keep us warmed up on our return ... in the rain. Finally, along the walls and passing under the balcony, we got almost''dry''. And with our room open to the four winds, needless to say how it was a great experience to sleep in the rain in our hambre Tarzan!

The next morning we took the bus to Rio Dulce, a 3-hour. We left our guesthouse and took a tuk-tuk to get to the bus station. At 10:00 am, our bus was leaving Flores.

Canon Ip1600 Greyscale

Tikal Flores De Chichi a

soon we had stepped outside that drivers s'égosiaient''Tikal, Tikal.'' The name of the Maya archaeological site that is a 1 hour drive from here and that attracts tourists to this remote region. We had anticipated series of the moment. And 6 am, after a night on the road, we were not ready to get into a hypothetical negotiation with a minibus driver. We kindly returned the proposals of our guests and a few moments after, they all leave the area while driving vehicles. The dust was settled and we were now alone, quiet!

We took our bags and began the''tower''of the island of Flores. The narrow streets with colorful houses were quiet. Very quiet. Person for us shouting''cheap guesthouse'',''the trip to Tikal''or even''american breakfast''... But speaking of breakfast, it was getting hungry. We we sit facing the lake and have swallowed the contents of small paper bags that the hostess had given us. Meanwhile, a little later, opened a restaurant. We then installed a terrace and it took our breakfast.

At 10:00, I felt the lack of sleep and was getting ... irritable! This is one of the great discoveries of our world tour. Sylvie and I are identical on this point: lack of sleep and hunger are two factors that put us inevitably bad hair. And at night the bus had not allowed me to fulfill my basic need for sleep. So we started looking for a room or we install. We found a place in the hostel the village. A place quite pleasant, with its courtyard full of greenery and Luis parrot. We took a room that seemed perched in a tree. He had to climb a steep stairway to get there. After managing to open the heavy wooden door, we discovered that''shack''Tarzan.'' Any wood, it did not include windows and was open to the outside. We had a direct view of the trees and Luis. On the ground, the massive plates were spaced a good centimeter, which allowed us to see people sitting on benches outside ... and vice versa. In short, there was a bit like being installed in the ceiling de la place. Finalement, nous étions dans le plafond de la place. Qu'a cela ne tienne. J'ai mis mes bouhons d'oreilles pour ne pas trop etre dans les conversations des autres et j'ai enfin pu terminer la nuit commencée dans l'autobus.

En milieu d'apres-midi, nous avons été nous promener dans le village frere, Santa Elena, que seul le pont de cordon ombilical sépare. Dans cet endroit sans ame véritable, nous avons déambulé le long de la rue principale, bordée d'un réparateur de tuk-tuk, d'un vendeur d'informatique et d'autres commeces divers. Sur la droite, des dizaine de petits étals de fortune se suivaient. A cet instant, nous avons réalisé combien cet endoit pouvait ressembler to other villages, poor and lost elsewhere in the world. We then asked whether poverty and lack of anything could lead to human development and behavior has evolved in the same way, regardless of environment are (although with a similar climate). Indeed, in most villages''poor''and far in Africa, Asia, Central America or South America, is the concept of main street lined with shops, the market bustles in the morning or each is a small job that has long since disappeared in Western societies (shining FOOTWEAR, cut fruit vendor or newspaper auction, carrier, etc.).. We also note the tremendous ability of people to not throw anything and everything re ... Sometimes in applications far from the original, such as inner tubes that become elastic to attach the goods on the roof of the truck tires that will make an excellent week for a bit worn out shoes. Repair is also a national sport. What is broken here and we will not throw an object down here we'll fix it. There are TV repairers. With us, there Futureshop to buy another. So our thinking was that moment: poverty leads does the same behavior? The question must have already been processed. Just find the answers in order to clarify this point.

Back in Flores, we left the restaurant has reherche which would be our prey tonight. And the way that we have not crossed? Annie and John! They returned from Tikal and sought to withdraw money to pay their bus fare to Belize tomorrow morning. After a heartfelt hugs, we accompanied them until owers cases are completed. As a result, the setting sun on the horizon, we went to sit comfortably on a terrace overlooking the lake. And since it was''happy hour'', we took advantage des ''cuba libre'' a 10 Quetzales (environ 1,50$) pour nous rassasier le gosier. Le soleil est descendu et nous offrit un spectacle moyen (Jean, je t'enverrai la photo!). Cela ne nous découragea pas pour continuer la soirée au ''cuba libre'' qui, au fur et a mesure que la soirée avançait, se ''libérait'' de plus en plus du ''cuba'', le coca-cola remplaçant largement le rhum. Finalement, nous avons mangé au meme endroit et avons été finir notre soirée dans un autre bar tout proche.

Le lendemain matin, puisque nous avions prévu d'aller visiter le site de Tikal, nous avons du nous lever tot. A 7h00, nous étions au point de départ des minibus. Entre time to buy our tickets and leave, we had the time to embrace one last time Annie and John, who was waiting for them for their bus Belize. Our paths parted again ... to recrosses elsewhere, for sure. Finally, our transport arrived and it was time to go visit Tikal, a 1 hour drive from the.

Medical Complaint Example

2010-03-21 2010-03-13 Chichicastenango Flores

After waiting a few minutes, a huge horn was heard later in the village. Then the sound of a large diesel engine which has reached full speed. The school bus colors chattoyantes pointed the tip of his nose. In turn crowded with people and vehicles, he made his way. In the limit de l'accrochage. On nous fit de grand signes pour sauter dedans. Il était clair que le gros véhicule ne s'arreterait quasiment pas! Sylvie embarqua avec une meute de gens pendant que je lançais les sacs a dos au placier qui était perché sur la galerie. Le moteur grondait. L'embrayage était sur le point de faire décoller le mastodonte. Et aussitôt avais-je mis le pied sur la plateforme que le chauffeur élançait sa machine dans les petites rues encombrées. On ne rigole pas avec l'horaire des bus au Guatemala!

Apres avoir réussi a traverser la ville-marché, le chauffeur descendant de Fangio fit chauffer les pneus. 6 vitesses courtes passées avec double débrayage suivies de 6 longues. Le turbo hissed the Traviatta. The exhaust pipe has full spat. The landscape parade. I could not think of the song''reckless driver''of Sinatra. The white band that runs ... Mounted in the winding, a blow horn before turning blind knowledge has allowed those who would cross our path that we will not stop ... and they had better settle. In downhill, we turn to excluding from diving to the inside and take the rope to better stimulate the bus exit. I told you Fangio, is not it? Perhaps a more Alain Prost for the sharpness of its path!

At the appointed hour, we arrived in Guatemala City. The usher cried''Tikal Futura'', named after the huge mall that was presented to our right. It was the owner of the guesthouse told us to go down to take a taxi to the bus station. The bus braked suddenly. The usher was passed through the back door of the bus and was already on the roof in the process of detaching our backpacks. By the time we left, we were ready we started. And once they did they hit the ground as the bus set off again. Also saw that he had stopped. With a huge plume of black smoke and nauseating and more!

Before taking a cab, we returned to the Tikal Futura'''' something to eat. It is well known, all malls have a food court offering all sorts of things to eat. And like everywhere else in the world, we had a choice between McDonalds, Subway, Pizza Hut or a local fast food. In spite, nmous chose the latter. For an amount equivalent to one night in a guesthouse and 2 meals in comedores, we had barely enough to satiate our appetite. And definitely not our taste (is not it Annie?). All around, the middle class of the capital we staring eyes. Not to judge us. But surprised to see 2 aliens in backpack in this high place of consumption. Actually, we do not really feel in our place. Amazing when we know that we frequent the same places every week with us to do our shopping there.

After swallowing our beloved and dear food, we put our bags down on the back to take a taxi. In the escalator, a little girl looked at us and spoke to his mother who seemed Gene ... His daughter had just asked if we were competing in the reality show''The Amazing Race''or teams backpacks are racing around the world. In other words, it allowed us a good laugh!

The taxi driver we sailed for a price quite correct. We set out to cross the city has bad reputation by directing us to the zona''1'', which is the historic center of Guatemala City but also one of the''déicats''(do not worry Annette, we pay attention). Most streets were deserted (normal, we were on Sunday in a very Catholic country). A single artery seemed more animated. The taxi driver stopped before a huge metal gate guarded by an officer with a shotgun. Behind, 3 buses labeled DNA: we had arrived. We dropped our bags inside and bought our tickets. We were left with only 6 hours to wait, since we took a night bus to get to Flores, 8 hours drive from. We're

emerged from the bus station to dive into the unknown in this city stigmatized for its dangerousness. Without backpacks. Just a little money to eat something and buy something to cool us. About 10 blocks away, we skirted along the boulevard that led to the central square of Guatemala City. Desert. Neither more nor less than the streets of a French town after a Sunday afternoon ... On the sidewalk, we proposed to change money. Without animosity. Other people we would smile crossed by sending us a smile back decorated with a buenos dias''''most courteous. Finally, our journey passed without incident until the site. The

, Life had returned to his right. This huge space was surrounded by a church, the presidential palace, a small park and a building along the sidewalk covered by arches. There was an air of carnival. Street performers. Music was full speed. Street vendors. Stalls o eat and drink. Kiosks or have their picture taken in front of monuments or the most money possible kitsch. And the world. Many people. As if to Guatemala City, Sunday, people would break into two groups: one in the malls and the other on the main square! We spent nearly two hours at this location. As we stroll. By sitting and watching the air of madness that reigned there.

around 18:00, the place began to empty. Quickly. Almost as soon as the sun was setting. So we quietly made our way back to the bus station. But instead of going through the deserted boulevard we made was the go, we went through a pretty street that served as open air market. The 2 sides of this street market had moved from street vendors, mostly shoes, clothes and CD and DVD pirates. An industry which offered a rather lively animation. Of the 10 blocks from the return repeated the same scenes. All with the utmost respect.

We stopped at the bus station before going to eat. Around 20:30, the streets had become dark and deserted. A 2 blocks away was a''''Pollo Campero, the local fast food chain serving chicken. We've been close. Returning to the bus, we recrossed the street still dark and still empty. But without really having the feeling of being there in danger. Again, everything was very well spent. 22:00

accurate, the bus rushed. We chose the company because DNA although the more expensive (we're talking about a few dollars more than other companies), it was deemed to be most comfortable. Our travel experiences bus d enuuit nous ont apprises que vous etes parfois mieux de payer ces quelques dollars de plus et d'avoir une petite nuit de sommeil que de vouloir économiser ''un gros 2 piasses'' et arriver le lendemain matin toutcourbaturé et sans avoir fermé l'oeil de la nuit...

Les rangées étaient de 3 confortables sieges tres inclinables et proposant aux passagers un maximum de dégagent pour les jambes. Tout juste avant le départ, une hotesse nous avait remis a chacun un petit sac en papier contenant une bouteille de jus d'orange et des biscuits. Belle attention. Apres avoir traversé la ville, nous avons pis la route principale en direction de Flors, dans la région du Peten, au nord du pays. Et c'est la que la route s'arreta pour moi. A 6h00, alors que le soleil se levait, nous ouvrions les yeux. Quelques minutes plus tard, notre chauffeur s'engageait sur un pont qui menait a un village formant une presqu'ile sur un lac. Une sorte de Mont Saint Michel gautémalteque. Il imobilisa l'autobus, se leva et nous lança ''Flores'': nous étions arrivés!

Linsday Dawn Planetsuzy

Vendredi matin, nous avons retrouvé Annie et Jean pour aller déjeuner sur les étals du marché. Avec les locaux. Au menu, lait de riz au chocolat aromatisé a la canelle et tortillas subtilement agrémentées de divers condiments.

Puis nous avons été faire une petite marche sur le bord du lac to digest. We have met the daily lives of villagers. The women washed their clothes. Men were cutting grass to dry before they were going to sell them at market. Beautiful pictures.

Around 11:00 am, our path is separated from that of Annie and John. They returned to Antigua where they had planned to fly to Flores and Tikal in the north. From our side, we Vions planned to cross to Santiago, a little further down the shore of Lake Atitlan.

At noon, we arrived just in time ... to see the ferry leave before our eyes. Okay, the next was leaving in an hour. We had coffee in a bar nearby. The skipper, apparently English confirmed to me the price of traversése: 10 Quetzales, and you pay on arrival in Santiago.

boarding time had finally arrived. We put our bags on the boat and took place. The assistant captain asked us to pay in advance, we obviously refused (when you can not even get to Chau have time!). The captain confirmed that we could trust and that we could pay ... a ticket we would even be given. But when I reached the 20 quetzales young man, he asked me 20 more. It was now 20 Quetzales per person. We refused to pay this price for tourists, citing familiar with the true price. Young was limited. He refused to hear our petition. Faced with this impasse, still frustrated at having to bow down to such a situation, we decide to change our plans and instead take the lancha to Panajachel. It's a shame. We will not see Santiago. But there was no question of surrender once again to this blackmail confusing and absolutely wrong, which means that the overload routine becomes the norm, and prices go from simple to double, triple, or even tenfold in some cases.

An hour later we were sailing towards Panajachel. The crossing was quick but left us time to enjoy one last time the magnificent view that offered us the lake surrounded by 3 volcanoes. We concluded the day by going for a drink overlooking the lake or place a beautiful sunset.

The next morning we were putting the blog days before went for a chicken bus''''(American school buses painted over a thousand colors and converted to local bus) to Chichicastenango. This village, the name that is dreaming, is the host of a bi weekly market on Thursdays and Sundays, which come to sell and buy all the communities of the region, including the Maya. These days, the crowd is large and the rather high proportion of tourists. However, our goal was to be there for the day before in order to assist the preparations and be gone in the early morning.

At 14:00 we had arrived and had found a small hotel to accommodate us. In the streets around the church, the stalls were not yet mounted. Only the daily Quad market was active. At the cemetery, we could lose ourselves in the dédalle graves and tombs richly colorful and sometimes decorated according to the job or the cause of death of the deceased. In the streets, a procession went up the small street leading to the church steps. The decor was a sober and captivating.

The night before renter, we were manger sur les étals des comedores du marché. Un vieil homme et un jeune finissaient de vider leur étal pour la nuit. S'ensuivit une séance photos avec les 2 femmes qui tenaient le comedor, le vieil homme et le jeune. De beaux souvenirs plein la tete et plein l'appareil!

Dimanche matin, nous nous sommes levés aux aurores. Pas temps que ça finalement. Juste a 6h30. C'était la le prix a payer pour pouvoir assister au montage du marché. Dehors, la brume avait envahi le petit village. Des ombres s'agitaient, transportant de longues perches de bois servant a confectionner les étals. Des porteurs, munis d'une corde et d'un support en cuir qu'ils appuyaient sur le front, apportaient a meme leur dos des fruits, vegetables, wooden crates, plastic buckets, bags of grain. Many products that would soon be for sale. On the steps of the church, dozens of vendors and vendors to the faithful offered flowers of all kinds. Steps forward were the stalls of candles and incense. Then we go behind the black plastic sheeting that house party over the local market and have been lunch. Once again, these are very surprised to Guatemala we see that we were throwing curious glances. The menu, like our neighbor (without really knowing what he ate!), We tasted tamales''.'' This dish is a meal very light and creamy rice that contains a piece of seasoned chicken. The whole is steamed in banana leaf. Simply delicious!

Then we went back we walk in the market. We have been to print the pictures we had taken the day before the old man and young salesman and the two women comedor. On site, we found that the old gentleman was agreeably surprised to see us. So you can imagine when he submitted his picture! He left that for the young. In front, in place of the comedor, a young aute selling clothes. He was the son of the lady cooking the evening! A also, we put the photos in order to transmit them to people. A very nice memory for us that this experience has put someone's photo. Especially since it would not be surprising that these individuals are being photographed for the first time!

The morning was well advanced and the market became more a zoo with tourists had taken possession with a barely concealed indifference. The time had therefore come to put us on the way to go. We retrieve our bags were at the guesthouse and have joined the crossing or passing the bus connecting the village of Quiché in Guatemala City.

50th Birthday Invitation Funny Wording

2010 -03-11 Un café por favor!

Thursday morning, we were taking a hearty breakfast on a terrace not far from our guesthouse. Around 11:00, we closed our bags and took the direction of the lake to hang a boat to San Juan. It was on the dock of this little village we had agreed to meet Annie and John 14:00. A

Panajachel, boats leave from two distinct locations depending on the destination you want to achieve. Obviously, we did not run into the right platforms. But after we have bonded over 20 minutes,''a generous gentleman working for the company batteaux''(read tout) we proposed to take us there. Just by cowardice, we sold. He then led us to the boat which was leaving shortly after. He asked us to pay the crossing: 50 Quetzales. Something did not feel''good''(ie an image), but we could not put my finger on it. Was it the whisper of the reel when we asked to pay ... the knowing smile he threw the master ... his shifty eyes hen we paid ...? We would see well. The

lancha (the motor boat) and ran quietly skirted the shore of the lake. Chop kept him from going faster at the risk of watering everyone on board. This ship made a stopover in all villages. We had landed in the penultimate stop. And every time someone came down the boat, I watched how she paid: 10 Quetzales! We were therefore made by novice ride as our reel. But hey, that's the price of the shuttle faster (and direct) to cross the lake. So I had to pound on my orgueuil have to be done for us and comfort me by telling me that was the price we would have paid Touet way to direct a boat ...

Meanwhile, the captain was very friendly and we talked half an hour together. Everything and nothing. Beautiful houses lining the coast. Boats. Canada. He also asked me if we had booked a hotel in San Juan. No, well ... éviemment Certainly we would find there. He then explained that there had only 3 hotels rather exorbitant rates. On learning this, while trying to land were in San Juan, I slipped a word to Sylvie who proposed that we continue to San Pedro last stop in a few minutes of that we dropped our bags and we return tuk-tuk to find Annie and John. This change of heart seemed to bother the captain and his matelos who discussed in their local language ... as to ensure that we do not understand what they were saying ...

few minutes later we pulled up in San Pedro. La Lancha was soon emptied of its passengers. For us, it was longer, the time We equip our backpacks. And when we left the dock, the captain approached us and asked us to pay 10 Quetzales for additional re-routed along the way ... Both say he quickly learned my bitterness has rolled myself a first time for not paying a second. And we left without asking our rest!

Another reel has s'aggripa us to offer a bed. After asking other backpackers''normal''price of a room (60 quetzales), Sylvie has managed to negotiate a. .. 50 quetzales! We dropped our bags there and took a walk the narrow road that leads to San Juan. At the entrance

this small village, we took the direction of the wharf. Along the small dirt road, we called out a strong odor. A smell of fermentation very similar to that produced by the skin of grapes when it was pressed. On our right, on land, a strange pile of peels''''between red and brown were lying in the sun. There was no doubt: the smell was coming from the well!

few meters down, a man was busy filling bags with pink seed blachatres. But what could he do? Clear before our curiosity, we proposed to go to see a closer. We spent the little metal door and we approchés: c'était du café! En fait, apres avoir passé les graines du caféier dans une presse qui sépare l'écorce (qui seche alors au soleil en fermentant!) du grain, ces derniers sont étendus sur de grandes aires de séchage en béton. Apres avoir passé 4 a 5 jours sous les rayons du soleil, les grains sont ramassés et mis en sacs pour etre expédiés (ceux-ci en Californie) ou une autre étape séparera la coquille du grain avant que celui-ci ne soit torréfié prélablement a sa mouture. Tout un procesus qu'on connait peu et qui nous permet de savourer un excellent café tous les matins!

Nous avons alors demandé si nous pouvions prendre quelques images. Devant l'approbation rapide du monsieur, Sylvie se proposa de l'aider. Pendant que je faisais des photos, elle était pieds nus au milieu du tas de café a remplir les sacs. Nous avons aidé le vieil homme a remplir tous ses sacs, puis a les fermer et enfin a les transporter dans son abris. Un expérience unique!

14h00 venait de sonner. Nous avons alors rejoint le quai qui se trouvait quelques dizaines de metres plus bas. Mais pas d'Annie et Jean. Pendant que nous attendions, des chauffeurs de tuk-tuk entamerent la conversation. Votre nom. De quel pays vous venez. Combien de temps vous restez. Etc. Nous leur avons alors expliqué que nous attendions des amis qui devaient arriver en lancha... A 14h30, toujours personne en vue. Nous avons so we decided to walk toward the center of the village of San Juan. Life will give us much in the same way.

We climbed slowly (and painfully) a small street of San Juan when a tuk-tuk honked loudly moving toward us. We have returned and overview of each board waving arms: it was Annie and John! The tuk-tuk with whom we spoke had a marked lowering of the lancha and offered to go to our reherche. Hat the artist!

Blueooth Microsoft 5000 Pin

2010-03-10 2010-03-09

Panajachel. What name is unique and yet so difficult to remember. ... Panajachel

Upon awakening, we had to solve the problem of data backup (also because it's part of the trip!). Our first step was therefore to a restaurant with an Internet connection. After some research, the verdict: we had to reformat the hard disk. OK, it's nice, but what do I do that are over 100GB of whose 15,000 original photos of our trip around the world? After coffee, we had to find a place that would make a copy of the hard drive, format it and then transfer it back to the data previously saved. Do you think that many of the world can offer this service in Panajachel, Guatemala? We finally found a place that could do. Suffice to say that until I get the hard drive and I can verify that they have lost nothing, I will not be quiet ...

Then walking down the main street, we found that with two Quebec Sylvie had exchanged a few words at our assencion the volcano Pacaya. They were named Annie and John and came from Rimouski, Lower River (on the road to the Gaspé for those who know). We talked a while in the middle of the road and we decided to go eat together. After they had deposited their backpack in our room (they had to liberate them), we have taken every 4 direction market to go to''test''comedores. We sat in a small restaurant (restaurant is perhaps the wrong word) and it enfummés by the BBQ as we feasted on local dishes.

In after-noon, while the chaeur peaked, Annie and Jean went prenre a boat to the hotel they had booked a little further along the lake. As for us, we returned to our guesthouse to rest.

Late after noon, we settled comfortably on the small terrace of a restaurant and everyone have gone about our occupations: Sylvie has devoured a book while I was loading to tell you Our travel and bring it online. Night had long since fallen when we finally ordered some food. Around 21:30, we went for the hard disk that was formatted. Everything seemed in order, which allowed me to update myself in the transfer of data. Phew! We went out and it should therefore be able to show videos to our return ...

Things To Write On Casts

Annie et Jean De Antigua Pacaya a Panajachel

Tuesday morning, we woke up by a small return in the past. Indeed, a year ago to the day, we took our breakfast was Luang, Laos, just before going to board a flight for Bangkok. How We Remember? Do you remember not the place you've celebrated your birthday last year? Today, March 9 is the birthday of Sylvia. On the phone, my mother asked me if one day we would have the chance to celebrate Birthday Sylvie elsewhere abroad: Riviera Maya (Mexico) Lake Placid (USA), Luang Prabang (Laos) and Antigua today (Guatemala) ... I'm sorry, but it makes my life much to find him a gift!

Today, we fear that our clock is not as painful as that which had followed our return from Mount Taishan in China (the followers of the blog will remember ...). After having climbed and descended the 6,000 steps, we had the right to a day of idleness''''forced our legs can not support us Laor more! But today, almost nothing. A little stiff in the shins, admittedly, but nothing alarming that would have prevented us from running ...

We went to lunch at a nice place near our hostel. A restaurant that made its own pastries. Nothing like a good local lunch on start day. Below, as we were seated, the police blocked the street. S'élva then the sound of a festive crowd. But what was happening again? Coming out to see what was happening, we saw hundreds of young people riding their bikes and dressed in their school uniform. They would participate in a kind of carnival sport. A pickup truck topped by huge speakers before them. It goes without saying that music was playing loudly to the delight of students who enjoyed their moment of fame. We got out the camera and had a right of larger scenes of jubilation.

After this sequence''emotion''(I know it is cliche, but thank you Nicolas!), We tried to plan our next few days. Finally, we would leave for Panajachel (pronounced Panarachel), on the shores of Lake Atitlan volcanoes that surround three beautiful aparente. A''must''for any trip to Guatemala. We nous sommes donc mis en quete d'une agence qui nous proposerait un prix acceptable pour nous y rendre. La premiere nous demandait 12$. La seconde 10$. Finalement, nous avons eu nos billets pour 5$! Un petit truc de voyage. Si vous trainez dans un quartier ou la moyenne de dépense par touriste est élevé, le prix que vous allez payer pour un bien ou service sera proportionnellement haut. Pour trouver les meilleurs prix, rendez-vous dans le secteur ou restent les plus modestes des voyageurs: les backpackers! La, vous etes certains de trouver les prix les plus justes ppour ce meme bien ou service. Pour preuve, nous avons économisé 60% en 2 coins de rues...

A 13h00, un minibus sarretait devant notre auberge. Évidemment, we were not the first. But almost the last. What we have right to Vallue jump seat. He that is not padded. And is located directly on the damper rear of the minibus. Suffice to say that the next 3 hours would be ... how to say ... uncomfortable! But never mind. For $ 5, you will not complain!

By mid-after noon, after the long and steep descent to Panajachel, we finally landed in this tourist mecca. A mixture of Palavas-les-waves and Disney Land, with its main street lined with stalls selling handicrafts of all sleep''handmade''and his bunch of bars and restaurants (138 to be exact).

Nous avons posé nos sacs dans une guesthouse tout a fait charmante: une petite ruelle conduisait a un superbe petit écrin de verdure, garni de plantes tropicales dont des orhidées, et au milieu duquel butinaient des colibris.

Puis nous sommes allés nous promener le long du lac. L'épais et bas plafond nuageux nous empechait d'avoir une vue d'ensemble. Mais il paraît que par temps dégagé, la vue est superbe sur les 3 volcans qui entourent le lac. Nous avons recroisé un gars qui avait le trajet avec nous depuis Antigua: Gal, un israélien venu passer quelques semaines en Amérique centrale. Nous avons pris un verre ensemble en contemplant le soleil qqui délinait tranquillement de l'autre coté Lake. Our paths separated at the time that Sylvie and I put in search the market to find a''comedor 'small restaurant popular with locals and where you eat nothing for three times (about 15 quetzales, or $ 2 for a dish with a drink). After having climbed the dark road leading to the market, we arrived just in time for closing the gates! So we had to content ourselves with tacos we ate on the way home.

In the House, before going to bed, I had to empty the memory card from the camera and the camera. But a nasty surprise: the portable hard drive refused to copy the data, saying qu'il était plein... alors qu'il restait amplement de place. Ce petit détail technique risuait d'avoir de facheuses conséquences, car il devenait difficile de penser faire un quelconque montage vidéo sans pouvoir sauvegarder les bandes au fur et a mesure... Des le lendemain matin, il nous fallait régler ce probleme, faute de quoi nous aurions apporté la caméra vidéo... pour rien.

Voilà qui concluait bien modestement une journée de 32e anniversaire!

Template For Franchise Agreement

2010-03-08 2010-03-07


Le lundi matin, le réveil fut a nouveau tranquille. Cette fois-ci, pas question d'attendre 1 heure et demie pour un petit déjeuner. Nous sommes allés prendre un café sur the terrace of the hostel. Then we were wandering again through the charming streets of Antigua. From the pristine white churches. Porches sheltering magnificent courtyards. Ruins dating back several centuries. Street vendors of fruit (mangos are our guilty pleasure!). Dogs who sleep in the sun. People loitering under a tree. Latin life in all its splendor. At midday, we booked our business day (please keep the surprise for later!) And then we returned to the rental market to take''the''almuerzo (lunch mid-day tasks Latinos ). A plate with rice, potato, sweet potato and meat, all served with a drink (Pepsi) for 16 Quetzales (Guatemalan currency), which represents less than 2.50 dollars (about 1.60 euros). Nothing to do with the lesser base is 40 Quetzales in town ...

At 14:00, we stood still pick up a minibus in front of the hostel. After making the round of the slag to fill its 14 seats, we headed to Guatemala City,''''. Then we went around the city, and after 1:30 has up and down the steep roads of the country, we arrived in San Francisco. Not in California ... but at the foot of the volcano Pacaya! Upon arrival, children offered to tourists chew sticks and marshmallows (!). Then guide us and that is supported by foot we climbed the 4 km between us money from a rather unique geological event: the lava! Throughout the ascent, men on horseback to offer tourists a ride back to nag them throwing''''Taxi,''''tuk-tuk (named after the famous three-wheeled taxis from Bangkok) . But we have resisted the call of idleness and continued bravely (and dusty!) The ascent on foot. Suddenly, a sharp and powerful pierced the forest. El''volcano''said our guide. Yeah, come on ... as if the volcano was making noise ... Then a thinning afforded us in the forest. In the distance, the summit of the volcano Pacaya. Suddenly, while we watched in wonder as children, a thick plume of smoke escaped Cone perfect dizimes few seconds after a clunk sound and powerful. The same as the one we heard in the forest. Now it is all the rumbling volcano. The action is repeated at intervals of approx 15 seconds. In the biggest roar you could see the lava flowing from the summit. Awesome!

After 1 hour a ride in a rather dry undergrowth, we came to the edge of the forest. To be welcoming us in this desert setting, a lava flow that had a jour été plus vaillante que les autres. En face de nous se trouvait désormais le pied du cone du volcan sur lequel on pouvait voir une cordée de touristes qui cheminait. Nous sommes passés des pas étouffés dans le sable au bruit cristallin de la lave. De la poussiere du sous-bois a la sécheresse du volcan. Et apres 30 dernieres minutes a jouer les équilibristes sur les coulées de lave figées, le spectacle pour lequel nous étions venus: de la lave en fusion. Sous nos pied, la chaleur était devenue a peine supportable. Au travers de la lave fraichement figée apparaissait la rougeur brillane du magma. Et en avant de nous, une coulée laissait éhapper de la roche en fusion. La. A quelques metres de nous. Les gens défilaient pour se faire prendre en photo. Et ceux qui avaient acheté des marshmallows les faisaient griller au bout de leur baton. Quelle scene mémorable que de voir la nature déverser de façon docile tout juste en avant de nous ce magma si cruel dans bien des régions du monde. En arriere de nous jaillissait du cone de larges voluptes de lave. Le soleil déclinait en arriere de la chaine de volcans et a chaque seconde qui passait la lave devenait plus visible. Plus rouge. Plus impressionnante. A un instant, j'ai cru effleurer du doigt ce qui pouvait tant fasciner des volcanologues comme Aroun Tazief. En tout cas, ce sera la un souvenir impérissable. Alors que nous redescendions, la nuit s'installait tranquillement. La descente sur la coulée de lave devenait plus périlleuse. En bruit de fond, des explosions toujours plus puissantes du Pacaya. A chaque fois, les marcheurs s'arretaient et s'extasiaient devant cet événement naturel constitutif de la Terre. Je ne commencerais pas a m'étaller dans les superlatifs car je risquerais d'en remplir la page, mais les éruptions dans la nuit étaient absolument magiques. Une belle façon de se faire rappeler que nous ne sommes pas grand chose!
La descente se fit a la lueur des lampes frontales et dans une poussiere étouffante. Dans le minibus du retour, les esprits étaient plutot tranquilles. Certains dormaient. D'autres devaient attendre que la partie de leur esrit left on the Vocan back down. When we finally arrived in Antigua, it was past 21:00. The streets were deserted. The calm that prevailed contrasted with the jubilation of the day. As if we had removed the cap from the bathtub and it was emptied of all its tourists. We fled years one of the few restaurants open and we filled our stomachs a bit hungry after our adventure. It goes without saying that the call of the bed was hard because if the stomach cried famine, the muscles were not left asking for a little rest!

Can Yaz Be Used As Emergency Contraceptive

Procession dans les rues d'2010-03-06


Sunday morning, waking rather slow. A bit like a night after a little too watered. But no water! On waking, we went on the roof of the inn offers travelers a wonderful terrace or dine with a magical view of the surrounding volcanoes. An error in the kitchen we earned our breakfast waiting for over an hour. Just enough to take a stinging sunburn: Sylvie on the face, arms for me. Question of complementarity! Finally, after cheerfully swallowed our eggs accompanied by frijoles''''(mashed black beans), it was already near noon.

Having transferred our business in a double room which had been released, we started pour déambuler dans les petites rues d'Antigua. Il y avait la un mode fou. Nombre d'occidentaux, certes, mais surtout beaucoup de locaux venus de la ville de Guatemala (a moins d'une heure de route) pour échapper a la pollution et se rafraichir dans l'air vivifiant des hauteurs (Antigua est a 1500 metres d'altitude). En début d'apres-midi, nous sommes allés nous promener dans le coin du marché. Fait étonnant, on trouve 2 marchés cote a cote. Un premier s'appelle le marché de l'artisanat. Derriere un haut mur de béton, on y trouve des allées très propres, de la musique, des échoppes bien rangées et remplies d'articles aux origines artisanales ''douteuses'' (excusez la méfiance but Asia has vaccinated sr rather the notion of craft ... the chain has done in countries of low price!). In short, a nice little colorful market specially designed for Western tourists nice. On the other side of the street, a few more stalls and a huge messy''shed''covered plates. Some small dark entrances allow access in this cave so discreet (and can be so scary) for newcomers. It was the local market. Hundreds of stalls of clothes, cosmetics, fruit and vegetables, dried food and other goods of all kinds. And of course, the look of vendors has allowed us to see how they were surprised to see Westerners walking the ... Within seconds, we had just passed the tourist Antigua Antigua locally. We had been to regain our travel brands. What happiness!

Sunlight becoming aggressive (when you've already taken a sunburn, you become tolerant moisn!), We went for a rest break at the hostel. While we returned to our headquarters, a man stopped us to ask ourselves about the place from where we came from. He explained then has 18.00 a''parade''would take place in the streets of the city. ''People are descended from a village to scroll before returning to their villages.'' Not all this very clear. But interesting enough that we would see that.

around 17:30, when the sun began to sink back into the volcanoes, we handed out the nose. Just behind the inn, the street was closed and the world was gathering. It must be the famous parade ... And to our surprise he was in fact a procession. Like others I have seen on television and that impressed me so much. In mind, people dressed in purple robes pours incense. Many of incense. Subsequently, men dressed as Romans were followed by cross-bearers. On the ground, women had huge carpet of flowers le cortege foulerait lors de son passage. Alors venaient les pieces maitresses de la procession. Un immense char a l'éfigie du ''saint rédempteur'' était porté par des dizaines d'hommes. D'autres hommes, en avant et en arriere, assuraient la ''conduite'' du char, le faisant avancer et reculer lorsque des virages devaient etre négociés dans les étroites ruelles pavées d'Antigua. Le char devait mesurer 2m50 de large, 4 metres de haut par plus de 12 metres de long. Précédant le char, des ''ouvreurs'' étaient munis de longues perches en bois terminées par des sortes de ''mains'' qui leur servaient a relever les fils électriques au passage du char. Une fanfare suivait en jouant en alternating tunes recueuillement then festive pace which holders progressed. Seen from behind, the mammoth tank swung from right to left, from right to left, slowly, quietly, endlessly. Few tens of meters in back of the holy redeemer''advanced''another car, the more modest (but still impressive), the glory of 'Mary.'' However, it was worn by women. Not clones of rugby. But all that women are more''normal''. Simply believing women who participated in the procession. Actually, I do not know what is the weight of the tank. But the image of dozens of carriers will be advanced without a word to me a great moment of this trip. Ah yes, I almost forgot one detail. These believers had left their village at noon which is more than 4 kilometers from Antigua. With their tanks on the shoulders. And after having walked all night in the city, they returned to their villages. With their tanks on the shoulders. And this is repeated during the 4 Sundays before the climax of the Easter holidays, which are also important here that the Indian Diwali, June 24 from Quebec or the final world cup 1998 french.

Later that evening, we have crossed a 2 times the passage of the procession. The night adds to the magic. Powerful projectors powered by des groupes électrogenes éclairaient les chars qui avancaient lentement dans les rues de la ville. Quel spectacle saisissant!

En fin de soirée, c'est devant ''la iglesia de la Merced'' que nous avons mangé. Il y régnait la une atmosphere de kermesse. Des centaines de personnes y étaient réunies pour se régaler de mille et un suculents mets offerts par les vendeurs ambulants. Manger local avec les locaux: la meilleure facon de manger de bons plats d'ici et de ne pas tomber malade!

Finalement, c'est avec des images, des sons et des couleur plein la tete que nous avons sagement regagné notre chambre pour aller nous remettre de toutes ces émotions.

Midland Alan 42multi Cb Mods

Antigua Antigua

We told you to monitor the blog. It was obvious we could not remain sedentary for too long. So here. Done. We have our backpacks emerged from the shed and have quietly made their way to the airport. Flight destination: Ciudad de Guatemala. I'm back for two weeks of travel.

Saturday morning, after a short night's sleep, Jean-Marie has kindly accompanied us to the airport (the flight was a 7:00, it goes without saying that the clock was rather early morning!).

The sun rose in the rear of Mount Royal. The sky was perfectly clear. And 7:05, the wheels of our plane left the tarmac in Montreal. 5 hours later, we begin our descent to Mexico City where we had a match for Guatemala. That's when I remembered a polemical which took place in 1986. More recently, at the dawn of the Olympic games in Beijing in 2008, an endless debate erupted reativement level of pollution that hovered over the Games host city. Many journalists were so unimaginative égosillé pen on the risk that contaminated air could have on the health of athletes, the impact this could have on test results, or even on the questionable moral entrust the Olympics has a country so little concern for the environment. This controversy endlessly reminded me of that which took place in 1986 when holding the World Cup football (or soccer) in Mexico. There was talk everywhere of pollution incomaprable this megalopolis which now has more than 22 million people. So we had begun our descent dpuis few minutes we could see the snowy peaks that surround the city. A magnificent spectacle. Indeed, Mexico is located sort of in a basin surrounded by mountains. But as we neared the ground, a strange phenomenon has offered us. Was suddenly below us a sort of cushion cloudy orange-brown. The aircraft continued its descent and the sun, yet so few bright minutes auparavant, disparut lentement dans l'épaisse couche opaque. Nous venions de prendre contact avc le perpétuel nuage de pollution qui surplombe cette ville. Tout simlement pathétique!

Apres pres de 2 heures d'attente, nous embarquions dans notre vol suivant qui nous menerait jusqu'à destination. Rapidement, nous survolions le Guatemala. Vu d'en haut, nous avons pu avoir un bon apercu des heures de routes qui nous attendaient: escarpées a souhait... et apparemment poussiéreuses! Lors de la descente, l'avion décrivit une longue courbe sur sa droite qui nous permit d'admirer les montagnes et les volcans environants. Puis l'avion posa enfin ses roues sur la piste de Ciudad Guatemala qui se trouve a 1500 metres altitude.

On our arrival usual round: immigration, baggage and customs. For our first destination, we anticipated that we do not stop in Guatemala City but immediately reach Antigua, about 50 miles away. Guatemala City seems to offer no special attractions and has an unenviable reputation for its inscurité.

In our travel guide, it was reported that a scheduled shuttle airport in Antigua. But after asking some locals, it seemed less clear:''The shuttle? It starts from the bottom ... but there has not yet ... it should be full and had to leave ... just has to wait another is coming!''. It's nice all this but it is already 4:00 p.m. ET we would not sleep here! Finally, Sylvie has asked people who boarded a minibus they were going or Antigua. These were people who came to volunteer and organizer whose they had reserved this vehicle. But we were invited to take up with them. That was enough time for that we settled. Indeed, we quickly remembered our first motto learned during our round the world: take it when it goes! The opportunity came and we took it ... An hour later, after having borrowed the mythical''Pan''(like hey, is this a sign ...?), we arrived in Antigua. This city classified by UNESCO is very popular with tourists. Guatemalan and foreign. Especially on Saturday. And we had Saturday! The minibus dropped us at an inn. We only had to find a room ...

The minibus we had laid before the inn''el gato negro''(black cat). The latter to bring bad luck, we are told that the place was full! We pointed''Kafka''a little farther down the street. In passing, we asked another inn on our way. Also complete. Certainly like most hostels in the city! But we do not sleep in the street c'était certain... Finalement, c'est au ''Kafka'' que nous avons trouvé 2 lits dans en dortoir. Sans négocier, nous y avons posé nos sacs. Retour un peu rapide dans le quotidien du backpacking, mais c'est tres bien comme ca. Au moins, nous avions un lit d'assuré pour la nuit!

Une fois installés, nous sommes allés prendre la température de cette petite ville au charme fou: rues pavées, murs colorés et entourée de volcans. Dans la rue se croisaient occidentaux et locaux venus passer la fin de semaine dans ce décor enchanteur. Pour nous, la soirée fut courte. Un peu de poulet au menu et en guise de dessert, une bonne nuit de sommeil.