Costa Maya (Mahahual), Mexico

What a pleasant surprise! After all the grumbling we heard when we were re-routed here from Roatan, Honduras we expected a port with nothing going on. Instead this port, in the southernmost portion of Mexico on the Caribbean Sea, (just north of the border with Belize) provided a fun morning of doing nothing and enjoying every minute.

 The town of Mahahual is the big blue dot in the middle of the peninsula.

Walking from the dock into the port area you find the usual array of tourist shops selling "quality junk" according to one honest shop keeper. In addition there is a large pool with swim up bars and a sandy area with lounge chairs. Needless to say, this is as far as some people managed to get!

We bought our $3 pp shuttle ticket to take the straw-covered jitney the 4+ miles into town. There were some intrepid souls walking it, but the road cuts through the mangroves and there's not much to see. Plus, it's a longer trek than it looks from the ship.

Once in town we walked to the right (south) along the Malecon as far as it went (to the Fisherman's Pier). The walkway is being continued but it is under construction at the moment. Turning around and heading back we stopped at the Hotel Carpe Diem and seized a couple of cold beers while we sat and looked out over the water.

According to the Italian manager the entire town was wiped out in 2007 by Hurricane Dean. There were no fatalities as the Army evacuated everyone, but there wasn't one building, one tree or one plant left after the 12 foot waves washed 4 kilometers inland! Given that everything here has been re-built in the last seven years and given the recent economic climate I think they have done an amazing job!

There are a few small hotels along the beach and the usual beach bars and restaurants, but the attitude is pretty low-key. We didn't feel overwhelmed or overly pressured as you do in many touristy beach communities.  The water is very shallow and didn't look particularly clean, but there were people swimming and snorkeling. You could also rent a jet ski or kayak or just lounge in the sun or under a tree or in a hammock over the water!

I wasn't wearing my swimsuit or I would have taken advantage of a $20 beach massage. 

The taxi ride back to the ship was $2 pp which is curious as they usually charge you more to get back than to get into town.

My parting shot is of the swing bar. I wonder if this is a test? When you fall off--you're done!

Leaving Houston on Emerald Princess

We finally pulled away from the Houston Cruise Terminal dock at 10am Monday, a full 18 hours after our scheduled departure on Sunday afternoon. Due to the fog the pilots weren't keen on piloting and the channel was finally closed completely. As we have been passing a steady stream of freighters, oil tankers and other large ships just inches (OK yards) off our balcony we can understand why. Apparently the channel is very shallow, so they dredge the middle but that dredged section is not very wide making them hesitant to allow two-way traffic with no visibility and a bunch of oil platforms dotting the landscape.

Speaking of Houston Harbor, we are actually lucky that we ended up where the ship was docked. I almost always book our own night-before accommodations and transportation to the ship, and as we had sailed into Galveston Harbor previously I researched hotels and taxis for this trip. In the end I got lazy and signed up for the ship's hotel and bus package which was just as well----because we are just now sailing past Galveston's cruise terminal which is quite a bit further down the channel than the new Houston Cruise terminal which we sailed from!

We do now have a new winner in the "longest time to deliver luggage" category. Beating Rome, the former champion by a good 10 minutes, Houston-Bush takes the honors with 70 minutes to get the bags to the carousel after landing. And the apparent cause---RAIN! Perhaps we should send them to Seattle for a little training.

On board we have settled into the ways of things. Fritz was off to the gym at the crack of dawn, while Karen risked life and limb at line-dancing. Positioned between the large contingent of ladies from Texas and the college girls I had the bouffant-haired lady on my right throwing in all kinds of fancy extra steps and waving her perfectly manicured talons in my face, while the two college girls on my left, who must be the only two 20-something's to have never line-danced before, had to hold up their hands to determine which one made the "L" so they knew which was left. Still, after about 20 cruise ship lessons I can now do the Electric Slide with minimal injury or embarrassment. That said, I could have used some of my compatriots--and you know who you are!

At Trivia today we joined Maggie & Charlie from the Twin Cities and Jerry from Pasadena and came one question short from winning! And, really, who could be expected to know Ozzy Osbournes real name anyway! As we each contributed to our almost-successful bid for glory we have decided that we will stick together as a team and we may yet win that coveted fridge magnet!

Because of our late departure we will not be able to get to Roatan, Honduras and so they have substituted Costa Maya, Mexico instead. There has been much grumbling about this fact and we are disappointed that we won't be able to use our snorkel equipment in Roatan's Half Moon Bay, but we will be happy to settle for sandy and sunny and warm.

Speaking of warm---it isn't! The current temperature is 48 degrees which is much warmer than it has been. We are glad we wore our warm jackets as it was bucketing in Houston and you could still see your breath while we sat at the dock. It might be time to warm ourselves up with an Irish coffee. There were some odd liquor rules in effect until we left port. Apparently they couldn't serve Martinis but they could give you a double shot of whiskey. At dinner there were two choices of wine--one red and one white--available by the glass only. Our lovely Ukranian waiter told us she could offer us a nice glass of milk if we wanted.  Let the party begin!!!

Coquimbo & La Serena, Chile

Sunday morning and we arrived in Chile to this scenic port view in Coquimbo.

Andrew has become the king of negotiators with taxi drivers and did an excellent job of interviewing and hiring Eduardo for our tour of the surrounding area. We started off with a drive south on freeway 5 (it's in much better shape than its name-sake in Seattle) to Herradura Bay. This is a fairly upscale area with a small yacht harbor, clay tennis courts, and some gorgeous estates. 

We visited a shop selling locally produced goods which was perched with a delightful view over the entire bay. 

From there we traveled north to La Serena where we took a stroll around the town square.

You might know that we arrived just as they were setting up for a local celebration involving fire fighters and all manner of fire equipment from many of the surrounding communities. As Mark had on his Stevens County fire district hat he had a brief conversation (with help from the handy language cheat sheet) with the locals. This resulted in the photo op complete with them posting the colors.

As it was Sunday there were a lot of people shopping in the markets, the church bells were tolling and the town had a really nice feel about it. This little guy was practicing his moves while waiting for his Mom to finish shopping. Andrew was suitably impressed that he was wearing the official Arsenal club jersey for a guy that has only been with the team for 2 months. That's pride for the local guy!

From there we went down to the lighthouse, where a race was just finishing up. Then along the coast, nipping into a beachfront bistro to sample the local beers, and we were dropped off back at the fish market just adjacent to the ship. All in all a great day!

Callao & Lima, Peru

Having been warned that Callao, the port area for Lima, Peru, was quite dangerous with muggings and other nastiness we opted to ride the ship's bus into town. Lima is a city of 10 Million people in a country of 31 Million people. While it was not a terribly long distance from the port it took about 45 minutes because the traffic is a cross between Rome at rush hour and Bankok.

Traffic control is handled by a female police force wearing snazzy white gun holsters, but according to our guide they never give tickets. Based on what we witnessed they never actually venture into the traffic either. As with other countries we have visited the traffic light system money could have been better spent on landscaping---as they are completely ignored! We experienced total gridlock at intersections where cars trying to turn left did so in front of buses, container trucks, tuk-tuks, you name it. What you ended up with was a game of inches. When someone moved the person with the most guts edged a few inches into the vacated space. And so it went on for 25 minutes at one intersection. Of course, this was accompanied by a horde of pedestrians, taxis going the wrong way, and horns honking! We were glad to be watching from a very comfy, state-of-the-art, bus!

Arriving in Lima we were just in time to watch the changing of the guards at the Government Palace. This impressive building faces the Plaza de Armas de Lima which is surrounded on the other 3 flanks by equally stunning edifices. 

From there Mum & Dad went off to the department store and the guys and I wandered the steets ending up at a local restaurant for some refreshment.  We did stick to beer nuts after having difficulty with even the English language translation menu. one of the sandwich fillings was translated as "guinea pig" which someone on our bus said was correct! Yikes, not fluffy!

Quick lesson on how to stand out like a sore thumb in a foreign city:

Announce in your best Monty Python voice "and thanks go to the Minister of Silly Walks for putting on this special performance" while standing in front of the palace for the Changing of the Guards (thank you Andrew).

Wearing shorts (ok, so it was 70 degrees) when all of the local are in dark suits or long pants, jackets, and in some cases scarves and hats. (Everyone guilty--see top photo above)

Standing head and shoulders above the locals, who average about 5 feet talll, and having lighter-colored hair or facial hair. (All guilty)

Trying to pour a oz. beer into a 12 oz. glass then mopping it up with a tiny cocktail napkin. (Fritz)

Still, the locals seemed to tolerate the odd-balls with polite smiles and we throughly enjoyed our time in Lima (except for the traffic).

Here are a couple of additional shots of Lima.

 Gorgeous Architecture

Great street signs

 Lots of shoe shine stations, all busy!

One added attraction in Callao worth mentioning is the port construction that is taking place across from the ship. We are in port for two days and the men, particularly Roger & Fritz, have spent ages watching the process from the balcony, commenting on the way that they would have done it, and have decided that their expertise could be invaluable. We have offered to leave them here to supervise--stay tuned!

Manta, Ecuador

As Karen spent 3 days in bed with a killer sinus infection, Manta, Ecaudor is covered by guest blogger, Marco! (As have no good internet connection it had to be painstakingly re-typed from his PC to Ipad by Karen).

After two days at sea, spent watching Futbol and cricket on the TV, reading, Andrew (The Secret Voyage of Sir Francis Drake) Mark (The Worst Journey in the World-Antarctic 1910-1913), fast walking over 3 miles a day, playing numerous games of ping-pong and eating too much, the brothers Dalton disembarked on the dock at Manta, Ecuador on the morning of October 19. Armed with a rudimentary Spanish phrase sheet, reading glasses, camera, swim trunks and Yankee dollars our intrepid adventurers hired Jorge with his taxi to take them on a grand loop to the south and east of town. Jorge spoke very little English and we spoke less Spanish but we were eager to communicate!

Our first stop was at a fishing village called San Lorenzo about 20km down the coast. There were many people in the streets, wearing their Sunday clothes, coming or going to church we figured. Our objective was the lighthouse on a steep hill at the north end of the village. We rattled our way up a narrow road to a cell tower that was at the start of the lighthouse trail. This trail was mostly steps carved into loose dirt with a crosswise board for a riser, and on the steeper parts a railing made of rickety posts joined with rotten poly rope. To the north the hillside fell away vertically about 400 feet to a beach. From the lighthouse we had a panoramic view of the village and could see the Isla de la Plata off the coast in the distance.

As we travelled down the coastal highway the three of us engaged in conversation as best we could. Jorge, endeavoring to make our trip as informative as possible, would point out objects of interest and in Spanish sentences that contained only one English word explained what we were seeing. For my part I asked questions, in Spanish, that I concocted by combining words from various phrases on my sheet of Spanish phrases for the complete idiot. Andrew had a more freewheeling style and managed to have a five minute conversation with Jorge using only soccer team names and the word Si!

Our next stop was a small town called Puerto Cayo with a beautiful beach and fishing fleet of small boats. Just outside of town we entered Macalilla National Park which surprised us by being desert like with cacti and scruffy shrubs rather than jungle as we had expected. A few miles inside the park we turned off the highway at the entrance to the beach at Los Frailes. Employees at the gate took the names and ages of tourists and locals alike before sending us down the bumpy road to the beach. Jorge's taxi, which he owns and takes pride in, did not like this stretch and had a broken shock rattling around somewhere beneath my rear seat.

Los Frailes is a picturesque curving beach between two headlands that was perfect for swimming and body surfing and had decent showers.

We were feeling a bit parched after our swim so we had Jorge stop by a tiny roadside shop as we went through Puerto Cayo heading east and purchased a couple of 20oz Pilseners for the next leg of our jaunt. No open container laws we supposed. We followed a bus with a giant picture of Jesus on the back of it out of town and headed up a mountain pass where the vegetation changed to deciduous forest. Jorge was happy to stop at any time for us to take photos and had no qualms about stopping on blind corners next to the guard rails where there was no verge. On one of my photo opportunities the nylon belt in my shorts broke as I vaulted the guard rail, so for the rest of the trip I had to hold my shorts with one hand while trying to act nonchalant and not stand out too much. On the eastern side of this pass some interesting Baobab like trees started to appear, which Jorge called Saybo or cotton tree due to their fluffy seed clusters. There were not many of them so I had Jorge stop when I saw one close to the road and hopped out to take a photo or two. I had to fight my way through thorny brush, one-handed, to take photos of this rare tree. The joke was on me because a few miles down the road they became the dominant tree and we took masses of pictures of better specimens as we drove by them.

Our next stop was in Jijihapa, pronounced keekeehappa, the corn capital of Ecuador where Jorge insisted that we have a photo taken at the giant corn cob that looms over an intersection on the highway.

A few miles down the road we drove through a village that specializes in selling coconut milk from the roadside stands with the most enterprising and bravest sellers set up on the speed bump in the middle of the road. Speed bumps abound in Ecuador but seem to do little to slow down the maniac drivers. 

Our final stop before returning to the ship was in Montecristi which is known for the manufacture of Panama hats and historically for Inca pottery which is promoted by a ten foot tall statue of a buxom naked Inca potter!

Salaverry & Trujillo, Peru

Talk about the difference between night and day and that's what these two places bring to mind. Salaverry is the port town where we arrived at 6:00am. Well, it was supposed to be 6:00am, but rumor has it that our pilot wasn't on time to meet us to bring us into the harbor. So, we awakened to the ship rolling heavily from side to side as the ship waited in the swell. The stabilizers couldn't be used as they might have hit bottom. Apparently tray after tray of glassware went crashing to the floor in the Lido and I stopped just short of going head first into the cabin door as I got up to visit the bathroom. 

Once into the harbor the scene that greeted up was otherworldly. Everything was gray as if it were being filmed in black and white. Having just finished a Clive Cussler novel my mind went into overdrive that this was a "ghost city" which had been abandoned.

Driving through Salaverry on a shuttle bus on our way to Trujillo, about 30 minutes away, the impression wasn't really lifted. There were very few signs of life, just a few guys meticulously sweeping the sidewalks spotless. On one side of the street were brick houses, with or without roofs, which could easily have been considered abandoned. On the other side of the street were shanties, or tar paper shacks that we thought couldn't possibly house people. Except, occasionally there was laundry flapping from a clothesline, so we couldn't be sure.

As the entire place appears to rest on hills of gray sand or clay, or is covered with gray sand, you can surmise that concrete and bricks are likely to be plentiful--and that is evident by the never-ending walls. Apart from the shanties every structure had some sort of wall surrounding it. Many with what looked like corner gun turrets. Some of the walls were 16 or 18 feet tall. 

After passing through a small area of farm land we came to the suburbs and then the city of Trujillo. It is the 3rd largest city in Peru and is as quaint a colonial city as you would ever want to see. Beautiful buildings surround the main square, sporting vibrant colors and elaborately carved Andalusian-style balconies, or intricately detailed metal work. 

The church, Basilica Menor, on the square is beautiful inside and out.

But, my favorite part of town was the pedestrian walkway line with shops, including this wonderful travel agency 

which offered me the use of their wifi when I inquired where I might find an Internet cafe. (Everyone and their brother had been directed to McDonalds whose network was taxed beyond its capacity and wasn't functioning--at least for me).