I had entered El Salvador with reasonably low expectations. Statistically the least visited country in a region teeming with tourists, i figured there must be a reason why people were staying away. While these are usually the kind of places i gravitate toward, reports from other travellers (a majority of which were “less than inspiring”) prepared me for the fact that i wouldn't exactly be impressed. But even still, i was highly disappointed. The Ruta de las Flores was rather disagreeable. And the capital, San Salvador, was a typically off-put-ish Central American capital. But i wasn't quite ready to throw in the towel and dismiss the country all together. On my way to the Honduran border i decided to give it one more shot, stopping in the town of Suchitoto. I'm glad i did. 
Suchitoto somehow stood out of the crowd. It hadn't been Barbie-fied like Antigua in Guatemala or hippie-fied like San Cristobal in Mexico. Suchitoto just felt “real”. Don't get me wrong, tourism here had it's impact, but it seemed more sustainable. Sure the cafes in the central square played Jack Johnson on there speakers, but it's was turned down. Sure the billboard menus were in English, but they served local food (and hamburgers of course) This is not a place where tourism has overwhelmed a small community, but has instead integrated itself into it. There were no tour buses or backpacker shuttles. In fact in the 2 ½ hours i sat there eating my lunch, i counted 4 cars passing through the centre. Whether your choice of wording would be to say laid-back or chilled or relaxed it wouldn't matter as Suchitoto is all those and more. The town is quaint. With cobblestoned street throughout, red clay tiled
roofs and mostly white walls the place was rather pleasing. Simple “holas” from children hanging out their windows, horses hitched outside shop doors or the chirping of 200 different species of birds (not all at the same time) were just a few of the small factor parts equating to a larger peaceful whole. The biggest downfall i might be able to pin on the place (and it´s a bit of a stretch) was the town was a little hilly. And being quite hot, i sweated more than might be considered socially acceptable. But heck, if that's the biggest problem for the place, it ain't doing too badly. Suchitoto will never make a list of the “10 best party places in Central America”. But that's not what the town is about. It is a clean (relative term), quiet bastion in a turbulent "El Salvadorean" sea of chaos.
While the town itself may not be overly exciting, there are plenty of things to do
to keep oneself occupied. Suchitoto overlooks Lago Suchtilan (not actually a lake but a reservoir). The top of what where once hill now accept their new job as islands. Kayaking, boating, swimming and other such water related frivolity are up for offer. Not to mention the above average bird watching. But if still water ain't your thing, there are 2 pretty waterfalls within walking distance of the town. Cascadas Los Tercios are waterfalls better known for what they're falling over as opposed to the falling itself. Though hard a torrent, the bizarre hexagonal stone spires are interesting. Salto el Cubo might be more voluminous, but i preferred the C.L.T. for it's uniqueness. Tours even run out to the nearby volcano where hikes will take you to some old guerrilla camps from El Salvador's brutal civil war. Suchitoto is well connected to San Salvador. Direct buses leave the captial's terminal de oriente for less than $1 for the 1 hour+ trip. And if heading to Honduras, it a simple connection in Aguilares for a border bound bus. Suchitoto most certainly saved a seemingly inescapable negative opinion of my time in El Salvador. It is unfortunately not enough for me to recommend a visit to the country, but it is unquestionably the number 1 suggestion i'd have for anyone already planning to go to El Salvador.
Heading down to the local travel agent and picking up a travel brochure for anywhere in Central America, you'd be hard pressed to see any mention of the capitals. Already on this trip passing through 
Early urban colonial development had no idea that San Salvador would become the capital of the most densely populated country in the Americas. The city is cursed with narrow streets leading to the inevitable horrible traffic. If this wasn't bad enough, sidewalks overflow with make-shift market stalls essentially forcing pedestrians into the streets to compete with the antiquated buses chugging there way along at a snails pace only to sprint in the event of open road. So what has happened is the downtown has been left to decay while plans of newer development happen in the suburbs. The churches, essentially the only "attractions" in the downtown area, have been stained from the constant bombardment of toxic exhaust belched by the congested traffic. My lungs actually burned after walking around for a while, and my eyes constantly watered. There are a few concrete plazas or unkept parks giving the homeless, prostitutes and junkies a place to take it easy for a while. Crime is common, almost expected. Locals will physically restrain you if you say you plan to walk somewhere at night.
a brutal civil war in the early '90s. They have proven themselves a hearty bunch. There is new development taking place. Massive modern malls, new hotels and shiny (heavily guarded) residential areas are popping up in the suburbs. And as one would expect, the countries best museums are spread around the capital. While this makes navigating the city as a tourist a pain, the locals march on. One bright note for travellers, the city's transport is fairly well organized. All intercity buses are corralled in two geographically oriented terminals making getting out of town all the easier.
is a 36 km stretch of road cutting through heart of El Salvadorean coffee country. Stretching between the towns of Sonsonate and Ahuachapan the scenery along the route is touted as the most beautiful in the country. That may be true. But it is frankly nothing to write home about. While the deep carved valleys and sudden drop-offs are pretty, they are pretty typical scenery in Central America. To make matters worse, the trees and underbrush have been allow to grow to the point that that obscure the view for the majority of the drive. Even from the elevated vantage point of the numerous buses that ply the route. The advertised "dramatic" scenery is anything but.
But it's not really the scenery that is the prime attraction of the area. It is instead a series of 3 little villages scattered along the way, each with it's own prescribed character.
Depending on which direction you're coming from, the town of Ataco is likely the first of these villages you'll come across. A little colonial village, it is advertised as Antigua before Antigua became famous. What a bunch of hooey! The town is quaint. Cobble-stone roads, central squares with pretty churches and a slow way of life are all on order. But that hardly compares it to Antigua. Not only does it lack any historical significance and fine architecture, but the looming volcanoes over Antigua are nowhere to be found here. What it does have going for it are some brightly painted mural on every available bit of wall in the village. There are a couple of hostels and a few restaurants, but a 5 minute stroll is more than enough to see everything up for offer, hardly warranting an overnight. What has become popular are the weekend food festivals. Local El Salvadoreans come up from the capital for the fresh air and cooler climate. But it overwhelms the poor little town and doesn't really ennoble the serenity of the place.
– no two ways around it”. 
built up of these towns, Panahachel. Pana, as it's commonly referred to as, is perfect. That is to say it's a perfect example of everything that is wrong with the tourism industry. Without any regulation, foresight or planning, restaurants, hotels and shops have literally been built on top of one another. The ramshackle construction method are not only incredibly ugly, but have proven to be dangerous. Tropical Storm Agatha unleashed a mini flood into the river running through town. Due to the idiotic building frenzy, a number of unsafe buildings (including hotels and restaurants) were washed into the lake as the river bank they precariouslybalanced on gave way. And even in the more organized area of Calle Santander, a backbacker ghetto has sprung from the dusty streets. The indigenous don't live here, merchants do. Needless to say, i'm not a fan of Panahachel. And while there are a few gems among the refuse, my advice is to get out of town as quickly as possible.
as well be on the other side of the world a world apart. Longer term, foreign “residents” of the Lake tend to call this town home. The mix of dreadlocked hippie poi twirlers and mid life crisis American men surprisingly goes together well. But on the far side of town (the town is only about 2 kms wide) local Mayan women proudly display their intricate Huipiles 
halfway up the main central street, then wander back to the boat. However, if they were to just step into any of the side alleyways, it's like being transported into another world. A mixed up array of doorways and alleyways and hidden shops that only a local could make sense of. But i was shocked at how few tourists stayed. The hotel i stayed at, which had 20 rooms, was empty. I was even there for one of the market days, and i saw only 1 other foreign couple. And don't get me started on the market. This is one of the main reasons i travel. Magnificently dressed Kaqchiquel and Tz'utujils women come fully decked out in Huipiles, Cortes and Kaperraj while chattering away in the local Mayan dialect. The place is a buzz with buying and selling and talking and laughing and life. Fruits, vegetables, clothing, chickens and just about everything else is bartered and bargained for as if this were the last market day on Earth. The beauty of the moment augmented by the natural beauty towering over the town.
volcanically active for over 100,000 years. But it's was some fateful date around 85,000 years ago that the mighty Los Chocoyos blew it's top, literally. Ash and debris were scattered as far as Panama or Florida. The massive expulsion of magma caused a kind of sink hole that collapsed into a roughly circular cauldron. This dent in the Earth soon filled with water creating was is now Lake Atitlán. As the years passed (and we're talking 10,000s of years) a few smaller (but not small) volcanoes popped up around the lake. Ranging in size from 3020 metres to 3537 metres above sea level, they certainly aren't tiny. The lake, 8km X 18km, covers 128 km2 and is up to 300 metres deep. But it's not the history nor the impressive figures that sets this place apart. 
hotels and restaurant are literally building overtop each other for that ever increasingly elusive lake view. The place is downright ugly. The backpacker ghetto street of Santander has less charm than Kao San Road in Bangkok (BTW i hated Kao San Road). It has gotten to the point that it's down right dangerous. A recent tropical storm saw a dramatic flash flood in the river through town. The subsequent erosion washed newly built homes and hotels into the river (and therefore into the lake). Speaking with locals, one of the number one topics is how unbelievably dirty the lake has become. In fact it's so bad in parts, you need to wade through the garbage for several metres before getting to “clean” water. However, even with the absolutely lack of concern of the negative impacts of development, Lake Atitlán will impress even the most jaded of travellers. It impressed me.
volcanic mudslide. Choice number 3 did pretty well for a while. La Muy Noble y Muy Leal Ciudad de Santiago de los Caballeros de Goathemala (now known as Antigua) was founded in March of 1543. This was THE city in Central America for the better part of 300+ years. And as such, the city benefitted greatly from the flood on money which tended to accompany politicians and clergy (just like today). The city grew quickly and magnificently. Churches, universities and local newspapers were but a couple of little things setting the city apart from others as a major cultural and political hub. But the party was guaranteed to end at some point. Seeing as the town is wedged between 3 volcanoes (all 3,800m+) and all are active to some degree or another, it was only a matter of time until a big quake would send them running. And in 1773, that's exactly what happened. With the city all but destroyed, Antigua was ordered abandoned and the capital was moved to Guatemala City.
Here, the streets aren't jammed with toxin spewing vehicles. Here, people speak English. The city is clean, quiet and pretty (all relative terms). But for the majority of travellers, the city is kind of the opposite of any original priorities to visit Central America. Sure, you are more likely to find McDonald's instead of local food. Sure, you might have to search for a Spanish menu. Sure, there are more foreigners in the city than Guatemalans. But that's the city's “thing”. Obviously the business in town in Spanish. Everywhere you turn there's a Spanish school. And not just one, signs in town are quick to show you the trend in town. Not only are there internet cafes, but they're internet cafes/Spanish schools. Restaurant... and Spanish school. Hotel... and Spanish school. Although i don't really understand why someone would go to the trouble of going all the way to Guatemala to study Spanish in a town where English is the dominate language.
up cheap Chinese imports or pirated DVDs. And transport isn't so great either. Sure if you're heading to Guatemala City, there's a "chicken bus" every 30 seconds or so. But if heading to, say, Lake Atitlan, there might be as many as 3 or 4 transfers to get there. Many backpacker opt for the shuttle services offered at one of many travel agencies around. They might be a little more expensive, but you have to pay for convenience. And as for accommodation, you can't walk more than 10 meters without bumping into a hostel, hotel or guesthouse.
no.. no.. but guarding national treasures like a knock-off Mary-Kay cosmetics store. People live behind giant metal gated doors. And that's if you can get by the armed community guard. All windows are barred. And every car uses 3 different security features to try to make it un-steal-able. And no one drives with their car doors unlocked. The phone-lines blaze with the fear of girls calling their father because they think they're being followed. And people will think you are literally insane if you talk about walking somewhere alone at night. And life insurance companies will not issue policies to bus drivers as they are assured a pre-mature death. Ok. I made that last one up, but the people of Guatemala city just seem scared. Scared of being kidnapped or carjacked or rape and murder or even murdered and raped.
And unfortunately, I was unable to find a suitable social situation to pop the old “Have you ever been raped?” question. But from my brief experience in Guatemala City, I'd say the bark is worse than the bite. But even still, the city certainly wouldn't win any beauty contests. And there aren't really any “tourist” attractions in the city. A couple museums could be visited to pass the time which aren't bad, but hardly worth making a special trip for. For all of these reasons, the vast majority of traveller spend any time in the city. And most of them will connect straight out of the city to nearby Antigua. Although only 45 minutes away, Antigua is the complete opposite of Guatemala City. It's safe and pretty.
serves as the functional centre. It is here that banks, bus stations, airports and supermarkets can be found. Next to that is the poorer cousin of San Benito. But it is the island town of Flores that most travellers end up calling home for a few days. Flores occupies a tiny island floating in Lago de Petén Itzá, a few hundred metres of the mainland coast. Luckily (or unfortunately) the island is adjoined by an umbilical causeway, so there is no need to get your feet wet. None of the towns have any attractions to speak of. It is instead the pastel coloured buildings lining a labyrinth of cobbled streets that bring the hordes to Flores. Frankly, it's not as pretty as Antigua nor as beautifully set as the towns around Lake Atitlan in Guatemala's southern regions. But it does the job in a pinch.
go for a simple swim to escape the heat. Alternatively, you could hop a Collectivo ferry heading to one of the other villages around the lake like San Andrés or San José or even to the funky little Santa Barbara museum on an equally little island nearby. But the best trip is probably across to San Miguel to hike up to El Mirador (the lookout) for view over the whole scene. But in general there nothing to do in town except end up at one of the bars swapping “I was sooo drunk...” stories with the backpackers. Flores is a base not so much a destination.
Flores in and of itself can't really be considered a highlight of the country. In fact, many “alternative” travellers choose to use the lakeside village of El Ramate as their base. But Flores is a cute little town, with most amenities to satisfy the needs of most travellers. Besides with a name of “Flowers”, why would you go anywhere else?
the ruins of Tikal offer up such an experience. Dating back as far as 2,400 years ago, and reaching it's peak around 400 to 900 AD, Tikal was certainly a power to be reckoned with in it's time, rivalling even the mighty 
region. It's not even the individual monuments, some towering over 44m. It is instead the truly symbiotic setting with it's densely overgrown jungle surroundings. Howler and spider monkeys leap through the tree tops as more bird varieties than you could ever hope to count sing their songs of the forest. Without question the site needs to be visited as early as possible in the day (the gates open at 6am). And i CAN NOT stress enough the vital importance to head directly to Temple IV at the back of the complex. With stair leading up the side the view from the top has become one of my favourite memories. And for someone who travels as much as i do, that's saying something. But as the day progress, there are fewer birds, the mist rises from the foliage and the endless droning of backpackers bragging about how drunk they got last night and how drunk they plan on getting tonight drowns out the nature. 
Seeing as the A.T.M. is a heavily protected national park (read money grab)
the only way to visit is on a guided tour. The day starts off innocently enough. You load up in a decrepit mini-van with a bunch of tourist heading back to the centre of the country. Luckily my tour was only my and 3 hottie teachers from the states. But typically they are larger (the cap seems to be 8). After about 45 minutes the van turns off the main highway to something that could be loosely referred to as a "road". After pitching and rolling, after fording a few streams and after getting smacked by the odd vengeful plants it comes time to leave the vehicle and head out on foot. The path is well maintained. Good thing because if not the 45 minute walk might turn into a "i had to eat my left foot to survive" sort of adventure. There are a couple rivers to traverse, starting a day a constant wetness.
decade ago, the 3 mile cave system was an incredible find. While the 200+ ceramic vessels might not be much cause for elation, it's the cave 14 other inhabitants that are the big draw. The opening of the cave involves a bit of a sink-or-swim commitment to the exploration as a 14 foot pool waits to weed out the weak. And things don't get much easier. Most of the trek is spent in knee-waist deep water. No natural light permeates into the abyss, so the head lamp attached to your hard hat is the only source of light. Many of the passages are extremely narrow, so claustrophobes or "plus-sized" tourists should not endeavour to undertake the trip. But eventually, a little over a mile into the system, the guide leads you above the water and instructs you to remove your shoes.
came to pay homage to their deity. Shards of pottery litter the ground (hence the no shoe thing). It is here you first come in contact with the caves ghostly inhabitants. 14 individuals, some young, some old, some men, some women, have this cavern as their final resting place. Victims (some say volunteers) of ritualistic sacrifice in order to appease the God of Rain, Chaac. While a few are merely scattered bones or fragments there of, there is at least one fully intact skeleton. After ohhing and ahhhing for a bit, it's time to head back the same way you came in.