Flying in, you see nothing but green, velvety hills of emerald. I imagined they would feel like moss if I touched them. But naturally I couldn’t, because my arms aren’t long enough.
I didn’t expect to fall in love with El Salvador, but it was immediate enchantment. Like a spell. The airport in San Salvador doesn’t even turn the lights on during the day! Bliss. There’s enough natural light filtering in through the windows, so there really is no need. For anyone who understands my allergy of fluorescent lighting, you can imagine how I was instantly endeared to all things Salvadorian from this point on.
From the airport, we get an offer to take us to El Tunco for $25 in a personal taxi, but it’s been 3 years since Marie and I were in Central America, and we want the chicken buses. We’re hard core, man. It’s not a real authentic experience unless you’re on a sweaty, overcrowded bus for 0.25.
We first get dropped off at La Libertad, a heaving mix of loud music, people, food stands, colors and chaotic dirt roads. Central America in a nutshell, and I smile as if I’m home. I AM home. We weave through the people with our 30lb backpacks looking for the bus to El Tunco. “We are some crazy white girls,” Marie says, and I laugh. It’s been so long since I’ve done this, and it still feels right.
3 hours later we arrive in El Tunco, exhausted, sweaty and starving. Ok. Maybe in our 30’s we no longer need the authentic experience. Especially since the airport is only 40 km from El Tunco.
All I care about is the sea. This is true at any given point in my life. We gravitate towards the beach, and throw down our packs and order a massive amount of beer and shrimp with rice.
Full and happy, time to go get settled in our ocean front room for the week…