2025 San Salvador, El Salvador

Oh boy, how did we get here? To answer that question we need to rewind back to June. El had just reached the point at her new job where she could start using her vacation time that she had been accruing, but dangling like a carrot on a string, she could not use. She told me “I think I'd like to use my vacation time”, “Great!,” I said. “Where are we thinking of going?” “Not we...just me. I am thinking of going back to Italy to visit my family.” My first reaction, if I am being honest, was a shred of disappointment. She just went last year and one of the family members even came to visit us last year. I mean I go decades without seeing some of my family members, some of whom live in adjacent states, and here she is doing the same trip again twice in as many years. Of course, once she reminded me that some of the people who mean the most to her in the world are not getting any younger, my disappointment started shifting to what I could do instead. Was there anything I wanted to do by myself? Fact is, I have been to Italy to visit her family several times and of course, they are a wonderful collective, but it is a tough trip for me. I can't speak their language and constantly need an interpreter (though Google translate is coming along), but the fact is, I have done all of the tourist stuff I need to do in Rome and her trip is designed to sit around a dining room table, or sofa, actually visiting with family. What would I do? Sit next to her? Or go off and explore by myself? Might I just resign to making the best of a solo situation and “let” her go do her thing unhindered by my proverbial fifth wheel? So, I found myself faced with the question, if I could go anywhere in the world by myself, where would I go? Wales was a contender. Seeing if friends in other countries were available for a visit. Stay more local? Maybe head out to California to visit some friends. Who was touring? Maybe I could follow a band on tour for a few shows? The possibilities were not exactly endless, but the wheels were turning. Remember, I know my favorite thing is traveling with my best travel partner, so going off to explore New Zealand or Singapore on my own just seemed out of the question. With wheels turning, eyes open, and checking concert schedules in different cities, I was quietly taking advantage of my freedom to move and do something I was able to present to her without her saying “why didn’t you wait for me to go together?” At some point that month I got an email... Because of all of the concerts I see and all of the bands I am interested in, I get flooded with everything from announcements of new music releases that “may interest you” to announcements and ticket links for venues that I may never visit again- having seen Elton John in Cork, Ireland in 2014, I still get biweekly emails from Ticketmaster Ireland in case I am interested in seeing the bands playing anywhere from Galway to Dublin. I dare not unsubscribe...because you never know. A band I admit my interest has waned on over the years is Guns N’ Roses. In 1991 there was no more anticipated concert when they announced a SPAC date. Today though, I still listen to bootlegs of them sometimes- but only out of sheer variety. And when they played SPAC again last summer I couldn’t even be bothered to attend- not that there wasn’t a curiosity factor, but the ticket prices alone prevented me from attending. But, since I follow other bands that are similar enough the algorithm has placed them on my radar whether I like it or not. I open the emails, do a quick scan- you know, just in case it’s an announcement that they are playing a secret show in my back yard and providing me an exclusive code to be the first to get tickets. Alas, that was not the case. But, out of sheer curiosity I did want to see what they are up to. You see, Guns N’ Roses has reached an international level of fandom that allows them to play shows where most others can’t. You have acts like Paul McCartney, Rolling Stones, or Metallica that can sell out big shows in Lima, Peru or Beijing, China. Well, Guns N’ Roses is now on this level as an international touring act. So, when I open the email to see that they had announced their new tour, I was mildly curious where they are big enough to play these days. The tour starts in Latin America and includes a stadium in Medellin, Colombia. That’s cool, I think. But the tour starts in October at a stadium in San Salvador, El Salvador. Wow, I don’t think I have ever heard of a band playing El Salvador. And here they are playing in a stadium! El doesn’t care about Guns N’ Roses. We've never talked about going to El Salvador. If I skipped my last hometown show due to steep ticket prices, I wonder how much a ticket to see them in a stadium in El Salvador is? Is El Salvador even safe to travel to? Obviously, I had questions. Well, a ticket costs $50. El Salvador, from preliminary research, is widely considered one of the safest Latin American countries. And, would El feel disappointed that I was going solo? Not for this! An hour later I had a ticket to see Axl & the boys in San Salvador. I mean, for $50, if everything fell apart, it wasn’t the end of the world. But, if it worked out, this could be fun! Within a week or two El checked in with me to see how I was making out with coming up with an alternate vacation plan. I told her that I did have some pokers in the fire, but nothing concrete yet. Then I started asking questions about her vacation to Italy in terms of dates, airports and other logistics. Would her traveling to San Salvador to see Guns N’ Roses (a band she has relatively little interest in) be more fun than the FOMO that El tends to experience more than other people? Was there a way that we could work it out to experience the best of all worlds? For fun, at this point, I was only referring to my destination as Mystery City. I think I didn't want her to have me say “hey I have decided I am going to San Salvador and have her express that she wished I waited for her to go. Nope, I took her known interest into consideration and I was running with my plan. Thinking it might even be fun for her to learn of my plan when she saw a selfie posted on Facebook as I anxiously awaited showtime at the stadium. But, through our discussions, we started crunching numbers and it turns out San Salvador is a bit closer than I thought and a bit cheaper to fly to as well- and more importantly, there were still tickets available for the concert. We worked it out and when all was said and purchased, we were scheduled to fly from New York to Mystery City for a long weekend. Going on Friday 10/3, doing “something” on 10/4, and flying from Mystery City to Miami on 10/6, where we would go our separate ways- her heading to Rome and me...well, I hadn’t decided yet. (There were no direct flights from San Salvador to Rome, so it would cost a small fortune. It was better to just go to Miami, as opposed to coming all the way back to NYC). I asked if she wanted to know what we were doing or should I keep Mystery City just that until we get to the terminal to take the flight? She thought about it and decided I could tell her for her birthday in late July. So a month of continued mystery...or so we thought. Just because she didn’t know where we were heading, I got busy researching the destination. We have 2½ days in a new city, I still need to find the places to eat, things to do, and a place to stay- among other things. The prices seem a little more reasonable than in many other places we travel to, so even though we do like the hostel options, I decided to splurge a little and go for a step up. I still can’t justify spending too much on a room that we will only sleep in. Though I did see that even the Hilton in San Salvador is much cheaper than I expected for a city center location. But, based on the research, I made the decision of this place. We do like local and street food, but we also like going out to nice restaurants too. This lead me to Hacienda Restaurant that required a reservation. There was availability and I grabbed it. When we travel, El is our tech person and if we only have one SIM card between us, it will be on her phone. So, when they asked for a confirmation Whatsapp number, I instinctively gave them hers. What I was not planning on was for El to announce moments later “well, it looks like our reservation in El Salvador is confirmed!” Damn. Where’s the fun in that? OK, how can I still make this a mystery to sleuth out? She knows the country, but she doesn't know there’s a concert. So, for her birthday I gave her 5 packs of 10 index cards. They were grouped as such, city/country, where will we stay, what will we do in general, what will we do more specifically, and where will we do it. There were all sorts of combinations from staying with a friend of mine from Peace Corps who lives in Santiago, El Salvador to visiting a wildlife refuge in the jungle to staying at the Hilton, to seeing Bruce Springsteen in a theater in San Salvador. She would make a guess every day and once a day, first thing in the morning, I would tell her how many of her guesses were correct, not which, just how many. Well, the game lasted 11 days before she got the 5 options correct that we were going to San Salvador, El Salvador, staying in a bed & breakfast, to see a concert by Guns N’ Roses in a stadium. 

She thought this was going to be fun. Over the past three months I continued doing research, but also working on my own vacation plans. Some options were getting further away while others seemed more practical. As we got closer to the date, El and I were both doing our responsibilities for the trip. Me making tour reservations, reaching out to contacts in country that could assist us on different levels. El researching and purchasing SIM cards for the phones so we can have reliable internet there. She made our reservations for getting to JFK. Our flight leaves at 6:55am on Friday 10/3, so the question is always how are we getting there? Skipping the options of driving our car and parking at JFK for 10 days as well as a one way car rental, we went with our old standby, train from Albany to NYC, get a room somewhere and take the shuttle in the morning. That was her call with minimal input from me. Our train left Albany at 4:50 pm on Thursday to NYC. We got picked up as planned, our train was on time. We made it from NYC to JFK and took the shuttle to the hotel checking in around 8pm. Alarm set for 4:00am. We ate our warm Doubletree chocolate chip cookie and enjoyed the first moments of our vacation. 

Friday October 3

I don’t care what your routine is, a 4:00am alarm never gets easier. That shit is early. Our goal is to catch the shuttle from the hotel lobby to the airport at 4:30. It runs every 30 minutes on the top and bottom of the hour. We shower and don’t have much packing to do, save getting the toiletry kit and charging wires back into the bags. We get to the lobby at 4:27. Well, the elevator opens revealing a wall to wall sea of people! There had to be 100 people, all with luggage standing in what might have started as distinct lines, but have now morphed into something more reminiscent of nebulous milling about. Were all of these people waiting for the shuttle bus that only holds about 15 passengers?? With them all arriving before us, would we have to wait for the next three or four shuttles to get out of here? Should we cut our losses and order an Uber now? We made our way across the lobby to the exit doors. Once outside we realize that all of the humanity behind us are checking in and we are only in competition with the 12 other people on the sidewalk for a spot in the shuttle which should be coming directly. A bonus is that even though we got picked up last night at Federal Circle (where the hotel shuttles pick up from) when leaving, they will take you to the terminal instead of back to Federal Circle. We know we need Terminal 4 and the boarding starts at 5:55am. As we ride on the mostly silent bus, we start to ponder if/how the two day old government shutdown could affect the TSA staffing. Granted we are here pretty early, but even though TSA personnel are considered essential, it has been known that shutdowns do see more call out sick events from people who are required to continue working and not getting paid. Walking like we are on a mission, being already checked in, we head right to the security gate and find the TSA precheck line- which is usually short and moving along quickly. Except for a jerky agent who couldn't enunciate the English language to save his life- to be clear, he wasn’t foreign with an accent, he was an American with marbles in his mouth, so when he directed me to step “to the side” I did. Moments later, since I was now blocking El from stepping forward, he takes a terse tone to instruct, step “aside”, like how was he going to work with El with me standing there? Again I comply, not knowing what I am waiting for. He had returned all of my documents, I am just waiting for my next step. He, with a sigh of exasperation, looks at me as if to ask if I understand English to say step “inside! Inside! In-side!”. It is only at that moment that I understood what he was saying. Arguing wasn’t going to solve anything, but don’t get snippy with me because you can’t convey “step inside” properly! A slight snag at the screening machine where I get randomly selected for additional screening procedures. Even with that, as we walk to our gate a time check tells us 15 minutes ago we were waiting for the shuttle and here we are through security and walking to the gate. We wait for gate announcements. Plane takes off on time- though in what might be a first for me, all gate announcements are made in Spanish only leaving me to figure out when to try to board. I guess they don’t get all that many sole English speakers on this route? No issues. Though in another first, once on board, the drink cart makes its way up the aisle and I learn that they charge for everything- even what used to be a complimentary cup of coffee has turned into a $4 cup of Cafe Americano- though it still looks remarkably like a cup of airplane coffee. We have one more hour in the air before we have to figure out how to get from the airport to the hotel. It’s the calm before the storm.

We land ahead of schedule, which ordinarily is a good thing, except our first stop today is the hotel which does not allow us to check in until 2:00pm and it’s only 9:30am! We are seated close to the front of the plane, so it only takes a few minutes to get off. Without heavy luggage we are able to scoot past all people who make bathrooms their first stop or people with small kids, or, let’s face it, anyone who is not walking like they are on a mission. We have seen how long and how fast immigration lines can get unmanageable. We zip around following signs until we find ourselves in the arrival hall, in the immigration line. This must be a joke, I think, as I realize the one time I am not in a rush we are the actual first people in line at the immigration! We get waved to one of the many open stations to present passports and answer questions about our stay. The agent is very sweet and asks if we are going to the concert! “Why yes”, we tell her, as she goes on to say how many people are here for the show and with a sly wink, she lowers her voice and tells us not to worry as the band and crew arrived yesterday! Stamping the passports she tells us to enjoy the show. We found some directions online of how to get from the airport to the city center. I figure that even if we do have to take a taxi, the closer we get to the center, the better. We follow directions out of the terminal and across the street to the parking lot where on the other side we see a bus stop and ask some standing around if this is where we get the bus 138 to the centro? We are assured yes, and told that you can pay in bills if you don’t have exact change. At this point, I might add, the national currency of El Salvador is the US Dollar!! Within minutes a bus 138 arrives and, as I always do upon entering, I ask the driver if this bus goes to the centro. “No! No!” **making an X sign with his arms**, “No centro”. I haven’t seen a guy this emphatic since my mumbling agent at the TSA Precheck this morning! I exit the bus wondering what I did wrong. It was clearly a 138, but why did it not work for me? I am back under the bus stop waiting for the next bus. Minutes later another 138 comes, but this time a young woman who has been glued to her phone the whole time and seemingly oblivious to anything not on the screen, jumps from her bench and approaches the passenger window before he’s even come to a stop and inquires, “are you going to centro?” Quickly turning to us, waving us in, nodding “bus to centro!” We climb aboard to an already full bus, knowing that waiting for a bus with empty seats is impractical, we grab the “oh shit bars” and loosen our leg stance for a bumpy ride. I hand the driver two one dollar bills and indicate I am paying for two. He hands me $.80 change. Yep, the ride lasts more than 1 hour and we paid $.60 each to take it! We hit some serious traffic once we were approaching downtown. It lasts about 30 minutes. At some point, the bus stops and literally everyone jumps out. Not realizing this is the end of the line as the driver gives us the Spanish version of “you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here". We duck into an alleyway, regrouping to check our maps and Uber pricing to figure out if it is better to walk the rest, take a taxi, or figure another bus route. I heard a taxi hawker nearby. It’s a guy in a safety vest asking passersby if they need a taxi. When he gets a taker, he walkie talkies to the drivers that he needs a car. We tell him where we are going and ask him how much. We have already checked the Uber app and know that we can get the ride for about $6. When he responds with $6, we have no reason to look elsewhere. He has us wait a few minutes and a like an airplane given clearance to land, a taxi rounds the corner and picks us up. A friendly enough driver, but there was no conversation. I tried to ask if he knew where our dinner reservation place for tonight was, but between driving in this crazy traffic city, him trying to drive and work the map app on his phone, I was more concerned about making it back alive than discussing a fare that most likely was not going to see. As we got closer to the hotel something seemed strange. We were clearly in way more residential of a neighborhood than I expected. There is a painting on the wall that says Hotel Oasis, but nothing else about the place says “we are open”. It is 11:53am. We find the door, but it is locked shut. I ring the bell, but get no response. Not interested in carrying our baggage out of this residential neighborhood in search of a watering hole to tide us over, we decide to Whatsapp them to see if there is any way we can just drop our bags until check in time, which is the standard 2:00pm. They respond in seconds saying they will be with us in a minute. The gate buzzes and we enter, meeting two employees who are clearly not here to receive guests. The main woman tells us that we may drop our bags but that we cannot check in until 2:00pm. She checks passports and tells us some of the rules of the house. Which is fine...until...well let’s rewind back to early July. I had bought my ticket and now needed to book a room. I did my usual due diligence and found a place that should work. Rated well with location, cleanliness, and security. I book the room through Hostelworld, which ordinarily collects their fee up front and then you pay the rest upon check in. But, in a first, after I book and pay my fee, I get an email from the hotel telling me that I need to provide them with my CVV code within 24 hours or risk losing my reservation. Additionally, they list their hotel regulations and policies. I read through and see something concerning. They seem very emphatic that their reception desk is only open from 2:00pm to 10:00pm. So, I am OK, should that mean we must check in before 10:00pm. However, if this is their way of telling me that you need to be in before the 10:00 curfew or face being locked out for the night, this could be an issue. So, I messaged the hotel and explained that the only reason I was coming to the country was for the concert and if I can’t get into the hotel after hours, I would have to book elsewhere. They responded, confirming that the policy is indeed that guests need to be in before 10:00pm, but in this case they would make an exception and to continue booking. I did. Well, thankfully I kept that email exchange! As we stood there prechecking in, El and the reception woman/owner are speaking and she is not happy with this news that we are planning to be in after 10:00pm tomorrow. She says they have turned down several prospective guests who were coming for Guns N’ Roses for this exact reason. She challenges me when I say we were told an exception would be made. I provide her with the email exchange and she stands down and gives El a phone number to text to let us in after hours. We drop our bags and leave to find a place to grab a bite and a beer and explore the neighborhood a little. As we walk to the closest food, I cannot help but wonder who the fuck rated this hotel positively for location?? This is already in a most inconvenient spot. We have the choice of a Mexican restaurant and a pizza place. El chooses Los Fajitas and we go in. I order a plate with chicken, cheese, and beans that comes with 4 tortillas to make tacos yourself. The taste is fine if a little more filling than I was hoping, being that we have dinner reservations tonight. After 2:00, we head back to the room to check in and grab a nap before dinner. Our reservation is at 7:00, but with the 10:00pm curfew, we schedule a taxi for 6:00pm to see if we can get seated before 7:00 to give us time to make it back without an issue. When I learned we were coming to El Salvador I reached out to the only people I know with a connection to this country. In addition to the recommendations, it turns out they are also related to a taxi driver, who we got contact info for. Being that our hotel is in an area that is so reliant on car transportation (i.e. we can’t really walk back from almost any place we might be). We arranged for Mario to pick us up at 6:00. From what we have seen, the traffic here is unreal, rivaling Bangkok for the worst we have experienced. It takes us 48 minutes to drive the 6km to the Hacienda Real Restaurant that everyone we mentioned it to says it is a good place if expensive. We show 10min early for our reservation and are seated immediately. Still more full from lunch than I would like to be, we decided to order to split. A glass of wine each, we share a Caesar salad, a ceviche mixto, and an order of the house recommended beef steak dish. The salad wasn’t more than some romaine with bottled caesar dressing and a few chips of shaved parm and some croutons out of a bag. Fine, but hardly what I was expecting at one of the highest rated places in town. A look around the large, and loud room, I spy several birthday balloon bouquets and at least 5 times during our two hours there, we heard the staff rally for the Happy Birthday sing and clap along. Hmm, five birthdays in one evening? I am starting to put it together. Next out is the ceviche mixto. Basically you can order ceviche fish, or ceviche shrimp and calamari, or the mixto is fish, shrimp, and calamari. It is delivered and given a fresh lime squeeze before the waiter leaves us to eat. The taste is generally good, but the squid has a bit of an unpleasant fishy taste. Not too bad, but El won't eat that part. It’s easy enough for her to avoid. Next out is the beef. It is a cut that we are not familiar with and was recommended by the waiter as the house specialty. The kitchen recommends a medium grill, but we opt for a little on the medium rare side- and we are glad we did! The cut, while not pounded like a scalopine, is very thin, like a very thin steak (I say ¼ inch, El thinks ½ inch- either way it was thin) and I would guess extremely difficult to regulate internal temp given even a small amount of non-uniformity. The meat arrives as two six ounce portions (easy to split) and as we cut in, it is not medium rare at all. It seems like it has been grilled in some sort of broiler and finished in a saute pan with butter and/or oil. The taste of the grilling fuel is high and the unctuousness of the meat even higher. It’s just dripping with oil and makes for a surprising house recommendation. As we make our way through the dinner it looks like this place is considered a splurge kind of place that you would go with your family to celebrate a birthday or other special event. It certainly is pricier than what we expected in this country, though not out of line from what we are used to at home. The TVs in each corner of the room playing (US) sporting events made this feel more like an evening at Outback Steakhouse- though I actually don’t mind Outback. I will say the chimichurri sauce served with the steak was excellent, as was our waiter. All in all, not what I was expecting, but in retrospect exactly what we needed as a fancy place would have been difficult to get through on a full stomach. At least I didn’t feel bad about not finishing all we were served. Since we are celebrating our “anniversary” (IYKYK) we are served a complimentary flan dessert that was the perfect ending to the meal. It is almost 9:00pm as we wrap up and we have already arranged with Mario to pick us up at 9:00. We exit the restaurant to a torrential downpour, just a deluge of a thunderstorm. The roads are much clearer now than they were earlier and even though we drive much slower with the hazards on, the route is congested. We are back at the room before curfew and arrange for Mario to pick us up in the morning. We retire, discussing our day and thinking about tomorrow. It dawns on us that our flight leaves Monday at 7:55am, which means we need to be at the airport closer to 5am, which is at least 30 min away. So, at some point we have to tell reception that we are going to be checking out before they open on Monday. Maybe I will wait until after we get back from Guns N’ Roses to spring that on them! We can’t drink the water here and have our bottled water for teeth brushing and drinking. Also, I am always grossed out by locations (around the world) where you can’t flush toilet paper and instead have to deposit used tissue in wastepaper baskets. Ah, the things we Americans take for granted!

Saturday October 4 

We have learned that the concert, while still on, has been moved from the larger, farther away stadium, to the smaller, much closer stadium, which makes me happy. After our shower, we head downstairs to the breakfast area and journal while waiting for breakfast to start. Breakfast is included and there is no choice. Coffee is served with non dairy creamer, and a plate with a half banana, a slice of papaya, a small bowl of cinnamon oatmeal, and two pupusas with refried beans folded inside.

The pupusa is the national dish of El Salvador and are similar to a cross between tamales and corn pancakes with filling dropped in while you wait (at a food truck for example). The taste is fine, but as long as they don’t burn it, much of the dish’s appeal has to do with the quality of the mixed in ingredients- in this case the refried beans are fine. Mario is on time- and on the way out the door, we wave to the owner who is working there, though I was keen to wait, El takes advantage of telling him that we have to leave early on Monday and is there anything we would need to know if the staff had not arrived to unlock the gate? He explains the steps and says this is not a problem- way easier to let yourself out early than to get yourself in after hours. This morning we have a walking tour- which also turns into a minor disaster. At some point yesterday while reviewing our trip notes, El sees that even though I have written down the time to meet the tour and the company offering the walk I have not listed the meeting location. She messages with the company rep to get the information, but is told that the morning tour is in Spanish with English tours running in the afternoon. While El is having her back and forth with the rep, I get online and see through the website that in fact, English tours at 9:30am are still listed as available!? The rep is not having it and tells El that if we want to come to the Spanish tour, we can meet by the library. Figuring that El can translate important stuff, or I can try out my Google translate we agree to meet the group instead of doing it ourselves. Mario drops us off at the library and tells us he will pick us up here later. We walk around and grab a latte while we are waiting for the group to convene. We were told to meet the group “in front of the library”, however that is not as easy to figure out as one might think. Eventually El texts the people from yesterday who assure us that the leader is at the steps to the library and we do find her. It is odd that every other tour group usually has a flag or a sign or an umbrella, whereas this guide has a logo on her shirt as the only indication she is who we are supposed to meet. This first stop is Iglesia El Rosario. The guidebook says this was built in the “brutalist” style of architecture in 1971 and at first glance I can see why. In fact my first reaction was that this couldn’t be a working church as it appeared to be partially torn down. But, as I stood next to the guide with my translate doing a remarkable job I learn that it was designed to be much more impressive on the inside than outside. She is anxious to get us inside and we follow her lead. It cost $2 to enter and the ticket is good for the whole day in case anyone wants to return later in the day when the sun is shining more directly through the windows.

Once inside we are struck by the semicircle shape of the basilica. It looks more like a building that was repurposed as a church rather than one that was designed and constructed as we see it. One of the key features you are struck by are the slivers of brilliantly colored stained glass that are set inside the concrete building blocks. Each “step” has different shades of a similar color that transitions to the next color on the way up or down. This gives the appearance of a rainbow and is locally dubbed the “stairway to heaven”. However, the reflection of the windows on parts of the interior (i.e. the floor) are where the likeness of the rainbow really shines. While we are visiting, the local choir is rehearsing for a performance the next day. Without an audience proper, you can imagine the sound in the basilica goes from quiet to singing and back to quiet (absent applause). However, our guide has tour related information she wants us to know, so she directs us all to sit in the pews, while she raises her voice to overpower the volume of the choir. It was a bit uncomfortable even though the choir or other visitors did not raise objection. Why she couldn’t have given us the information at the door before letting us in to explore, I am not sure- or even to take us to a less conspicuous part of the church might have been more appropriate. At some point she does move the group to a far corner of the room to explain about a plaque on the floor dedicated to a group that took refuge inside the church during an altercation in 1979 where some of the refugees had been wounded and received care, but not the level they required and died inside the church. At some point the floor of the church was dug up and the dead were interred on site. 

We only spend about 30 minutes here before moving on with the tour. As we exit is when she lets us know that the sunrays first thing in the morning or in the afternoon are when the most spectacular results can be seen. We make a mental note, but don’t expect we will be in the area later today. As the tour winds through the central plaza there are some brief stops to point out buildings of significance. As with many older cities, most of the buildings within spitting distance are relatively new, having replaced previous incarnations that were destroyed by earthquakes or fires. Since most of the tour takes place in or around the central plaza- I am noticing an extraordinary amount of police and military presence. This made me feel safe, though some people I explained this to upon my return thought this would make them feel less safe- as in what is going on that they need so many peacekeepers? I didn’t feel that way at all, more like, people are less likely to cause problems with this many police nearby. We didn’t see any issues during our entire trip and never felt unsafe. Next we go into the cathedral, which is quite a let down after the beautiful Rosario we just saw. I am starting to see a lot of Guns N’ Roses t-shirts. In fact one of the guys on the tour is from Nicaragua and came to town for this concert. We go into the cathedral, but the most important thing about this place is the amount of space dedicated to a locally beloved archbishop, Oscar Romero. He was assassinated in 1980 and laid to rest in a crypt in the cathedral. There are a lot of memorials, photos, and newspaper clippings featuring his life, death, and aftermath. At this point the group has been on their feet for a while and are invited to sit and listen to the guide. The internet inside the crypt is spotty, so my translate is not working great. I take the opportunity to sit and work on my journal. I see a lot of signs that state “no photos”, but I see very few people respecting this directive- though for me, there is not much photoworthy, to my eye, down here, so we just move on. As we leave, El tells me that much of the last segment was the guide telling her personal experience during the political unrest that have dominated her country for most of her life. She admitted that she was not yet born when Romero was assassinated, but that she has family members who either fled to the United States or stayed to fight. She also spent some time to give a personal perspective on how she feels very safe living in this city today. Next, we make a quick stop at the next plaza where the National Theater is located. Of course, a victim of several fires and earthquakes, today's theater incarnation is said to be fireproof and earthquake proof. Down the block we are taken to a cafe for a snack and a drink. The confusion level seems very high and I will be sort of surprised if I get exactly what I am expecting. Such is the life of travel in a foreign country. And the dominoes start to fall….she asks what I want to drink and takes the order for a Coca-Cola. We are informed that they don’t have Coke, only Pepsi. I go without, sticking with my water. She asks what we want to eat, I choose a tamale. She returns to tell me they don't have tamales now. So I chose pupusa with chicken. There are about 20 varieties on the menu and I could pick any of them. I chose chicken. After about 20 minutes, they deliver all of the food to the table. Everyone gets their food passed down from the head of the table. Though as they get to the last units on the plate, it is obvious that we have less food than people and this is the moment they tell me that they have no chicken today. Third strike, maybe this just ain’t my day. I let everyone else enjoy their lunch and leave instead of letting my sour pus detract from their enjoyment. I go across the street and get an ice cream at a shop and eat it while waiting for El to finish up. This was the last stop for the tour and as we are left on our own, we walk back to the National Library. The guide told us that there is a nice overlook terrace on the 6th floor of the library so we go up and while it is a terrace overlooking the plaza, I can't say there is much of a view other than a cathedral partially obscured by trees in the plaza.

We don’t stay long and head out as fast as we arrived. Even though my tour was a bust, El seemed to like it. One interesting thing we learned about is that BitCoin is an actual official currency in El Salvador. There are actual BitCoin ATM Machines, though I am not sure what they do (do they dispense dollars for BitCoin? Do you put in dollars to increase your BitCoin? Or is it just a way to move funds between accounts?) I don’t own any BitCoin, so I don’t care much, but the guide did say that a lot of people can even pay street food vendors using BitCoin. She says she uses it for almost everything. She had mentioned a bar on our walk called La Dalia. A billiard hall and cocktail bar down the block from the library. It is about 1:30 and we are going to meet Mario around 3:00, so we will go there and relax, talk about tomorrow and other options in this area. I order a Hawaiian pizza since I don’t plan to eat at the concert. I order a paloma which is quite refreshing. At this hour there are more people here than I expected and we see some are here for some beers before heading to the concert tonight. There are also several playing pool on one of six tables. El and I set up at a table and I journal and we look up some options to do around here before meeting Mario. The only thing that sticks out is the central market- though weirdly when trying to figure out if it is still open, Google results tell me it closes today at 3:00, another result says 4:00, with a third telling us 5:00 is today’s cutoff. El just ate lunch at the pupusa place. The pizza is actually quite decent and personal size. I eat most of it myself with my drink. It’s a little past 2:00 as we get ready to head towards the market. As the waitress brings our check, we are presented with a complimentary shot of liquor. I ask her to take my phone and after setting up an email to send to myself, she writes (in Spanish, of course), “It's tamarind firewater, it's a local liquor, I hope you like it, it's a courtesy from Club La Dalia to you.” We take the shots and say our goodbyes and head over to the Central Market. As we approach, it is called the “central market” which does not make it compact, only situated in the center of the city. This one is actually sprawling for a couple of blocks- which leads me to believe that certain parts could have different closing times. We head for the covered portion, which is usually the food market where you can get fresh food or get prepared foods to sit and eat. I am struck by how much non-food I see. Lots of fabric, knitting supplies, and kids clothing. Eventually we find the food area. Most of the fresh food vendors are packed up for the day (we aren’t on the market for any of that anyway), but the prepared food spots are open. There is a stench in this market though (think sewer+dump), that I do not want to smell while I am eating. If I was hungry before we got here, I wouldn’t be now! We high tail it through the market and find an exit to the street where we are met by several vendors lined along the street selling everything from kitchen supplies to Crocs. As we dawdle along, El gets a message from Mario that he is already at the meeting spot and we pick up the pace to get to him. As planned, we take the taxi back to the hotel, but since the doors at the concert open so early, we just ask Mario to wait for us, about 15 minutes, to drop off walking tour gear and clothes and change into concert gear and clothes. We had learned that the show had changed venues for some unknown reason. This worked in our favor since the original stadium was about 30km from the city center, whereas this one is in the city center. Mario drops us off in front of the stadium pointing out on the drive to the spot where he will pick us up. I estimate an 11:00 meetup. We are outside the stadium and there is no question what is taking pace tonight. Between the tshirt hawkers and the local radio stations blaring GNR from their mobile setups, and of course the sea of humanity decked out in their finest 80’s rockerwear...official and bootleg alike. With no indication of how each entrance is differentiated, we, naturally, enter the one with the shortest line. This turns out to be the VIP entrance. We present our mobile tickets anyway, giving the attendant an opportunity to see our tickets. She asks if we have :new" tickets!? She goes on to explain to El that since the concert was moved from a different stadium, tickets are for the old stadium and need to be reissued with the new stadium counterpart seats. The company that the tickets were bought through - the Ticketmaster of El Salvador, if you will, is called Fun. She tells El to go to the fun.com website and follow directions for the reissue. Meanwhile, a thunderstorm rolls in and a downpour begins. Luckily we each brought our rain gear, but now we need to stop what we are doing with the tickets and put on our gear. The process while easy once you got to the site, but not knowing what you are trying to do,  makes it tricky to navigate. Once we think we are all set she looks at our tickets and tells us that this is the VIP entrance and we need to go to the side entrance to get in. Again, playing dumb, we just present at the next entrance and again once we get to the front they tell us to keep going to the next entrance. You can hope someone will take pity on you and just let you go, but not today. We go to the next entrance and they are waving us in. We found it and in moments we are in the stadium looking for seats in the general admission area. They are actual seats, but in this area of the bowl there is nothing assigned. I won't bore you with the details. One opening act, a local El Salvadoran band that does a fine job though I have no interest. They play from 6:00 to 6:30. Knowing GNR play long, I would be thrilled with a 7:15 start time. Alas, 7:15 comes and goes, until finally at 7:59 the lights go down and the show begins. Sound is good. The crowd is into it. The band is into it. I get songs I have never even heard of them playing!

After 2hrs55min we get Axl’s signature, “El Salvador...Good Fucking Night” We hightail it around the stadium and run down the street three blocks to where Mario is waiting for us exactly where he said he would be. We are back to the hotel in about 20 minutes and before El has a chance to call the number to get someone to let us in after hours, I ring the bell on the gate fully expecting no response, much to our surprise, a worker, who may have been waiting for us, buzzes us in and closes the door behind us. We are in for the night and we are sleeping around midnight. 

Sunday October 5

Get up and shower and get to breakfast. While eating, we strike up a conversation with the other couple at the table who are on the market to purchase their retirement home. Today’s breakfast is similar to yesterday’s except the pupusa is cheese and jalapeno. Mario is on time at 9:30. Today he is taking us further afield and our first stop is about 25 km out of the city, so we have hired him by the hour today. Though when we get in the car, we ask for the first stop to be a place we can buy a bottle of water. I don't care, it can be a bodega, gas station, or a supermarket, so long as we can grab a bottle of water. Well, after passing two gas stations and countless bodegas, we realize that he took us to mean we needed a supermarket and find ourselves pulling into a real supermarket. Just for two bottles of water seemed overkill, but it’s 9:30 on a Sunday morning, how crowded could it be?? We grab our selections and head to the cash registers. At least seven lanes open, each with upwards of 10 customers. It is unreal how many people are in this place at this hour. And without a lane for 10 or fewer items, we find ourselves behind several overflowing baskets waiting to cash out our three bottles of water. While we are waiting, I do notice the signs that designate the lanes that accept BitCoin. It’s a real thing here. Anyway, we get through and are on our way. First stop is Joya de Ceren Archaeology park. Similar to Pompeii, this is a Mayan farming village that was buried in tons of volcanic ash from a nearby, now dormant, volcano. Unlike Pompeii, this site was not discovered until 1976. And even though this is a working archaeological site, they estimate that only 10% of the community has been uncovered. When I was reading about visiting the site, it was recommended to go to the museum first, as it does a pretty good job audio and visually explaining what the site is all about. We get parked and tell Mario that we may be 20 minutes or two hours. He agrees and says no problem. We start off to see what we are supposed to do and how to proceed. By now, I have totally forgotten that we are supposed to do the museum first and start to look at signs along the pathway. Meanwhile, Mario has asked the employee what everything is about and she says she will be giving a guided tour in 10 minutes and if we want to visit the museum while we are waiting, we can. What a great idea, I wish I had thought of it! The museum is small and gives a bit of the area's history, identifying some of the artifacts found on the site, and describing the layout of the features they have uncovered until now. The signage is detailed and each has an English section, so at least I can understand what is going on here. The photos and descriptions are excellent and before too long the guide tells everyone who wants to take the tour, she is starting. The tour is only in Spanish, but I will try my Google translate again. 

Today, with solid internet connection the GT works like a charm. I understand virtually everything as a stand next to the guide looking more like a co-presenter than a tour taker with remedial accouterments. On the tour, I learned the significance between the housing areas and also even though among the artifacts they found cooked food, one thing they have not found are human remains. Lots of evidence, but no bones leading them to believe that there was ample warning for the people to evacuate safely. The tour lasts about 40 minutes and when it is done, we are good to move on. It is around 11:30 now. Unbeknownst to me, yesterday when Mario found out that we were interested in coming to this town (so far from the city center) he mentioned to El that his favorite restaurant was in the area. Today when we are ready to leave, and I am not sure how he phrased it with El, but I understand he was again floating the idea of stopping at the restaurant today for lunch. We do a time check and explain that we have dinner reservations tonight at 6:00pm. If we can eat soon, and order accordingly, we should be fine. We start heading back to the city center. On the way, we make a pit stop at a small overlook platform. Basically, much of this countryside is covered in volcanic rock, looking less like a planting field and more like a lunar landscape. We take some pictures and the photos on display give name to the three features, including the volcano that destroyed much of the area.

We get back in the car and around every corner I think we are arriving at our lunch stop. Alas, we find ourselves on a twisting and turning expanse way up the volcanic peak. Eventually, close to 1:00pm we arrive at La Pampa El Volcan, a steakhouse with an admittedly wonderful view. Overlooking the entire San Salvador valley, it totally reminds us of the mountain spots we ate at in Medellin. We are quite high up now and with a rainstorm rolling in we grab some photos before we find ourselves surrounded by clouds, a nice view that must be closer to spectacular after dark, but we won't be here that long. To try to save myself for dinner, I opt for a simple grilled cheeseburger. It is very good, though I skip eating the bun. One thing that annoys me, and remember this is a decent and proper restaurant, throughout the meal there is a dog wandering between and underneath tables. It is unclear if this is a dog owned by the restaurant or if it just made its way inside to try to get some food. One of the other customers sees my uneasiness as the dog approaches me for food and actually calls the dog back to his table, away from mine. I nod to him, and then begin to wonder if the dog actually belongs to him and he just showed up with the guy for lunch. To my mind no answer is going to be acceptable as to why a dog is allowed to sit inches from my table hoping for a scrap to be tossed his way. On our way out Mario asks the waiter what’s up with the dog and is told that it is a local that wanders in periodically looking for food. Why they wouldn’t prevent this is beyond me. After lunch our next stop is a lot closer to the city- though still on the outskirts. I know a lot of people are familiar with the story of The Little Prince. Admittedly beyond the name, I have zero knowledge of the story. There is a park in San Salvador called Le Princepito that has several (all?) of the characters from the story in sculpture form. Mario drops us off alongside the road next to the park. It is certainly situated in a funny spot. In the median, not of a highway per se, but a well-driven road- one that you would certainly have to look twice before running across the two lanes without a stop light, crosswalk, or any other safe-to-walk designator. We make it across without dying and enter the park. Following the path around you pass sculptures of animals, people with objects, and of course the centerpiece of the park is a giant Earth with a figure of the Little Prince atop.

Each installation is surrounded by lights and we have heard that coming at night when everything is lit up is a sight to behold. Nonetheless, I am good the take a couple of photos and move on. We are only here for about 10 minutes tops, though it looks like families can bring picnics and let the kids run around among the figures. We take a moment to confer with Mario as it is about 2:30 and our reservation is at 6pm. Should we go back to the room now and have him pick us up at 5:00 or should we try to find some place else to stop, then have him drop us at the room at 5:00, waiting for us to change for dinner and continue on to the restaurant? He says he would prefer to drop now, and return for pickup. We concur and go to the room for a nap and change before dinner. I was a bit more tired than I thought as I slept for most of the hour and a half. I woke up, checked my email and my stomach sank a little. I don't know what it says yet, but I get the feeling something is awry. It is an email from the restaurant where our reservations are at 6:00 tonight. I open the email and select the “translate text” option. It starts “Hello this is the restaurant. You have missed your 4:00 reservation today, we are sorry you were not able to join us.” What?? No! All my notes say our slot is 6:00-8:00. Why do they think it's 4:00? Of course, I keep all of my emails and other communications. I first review my collection of notes for the trip that lays out my specific itinerary in one spot. Every day I can see when we have reservations, tours, booking confirmation numbers- basically anything we have to be at a specific place at a specific time. I read where I had copied and pasted the confirmation email from the restaurant that clearly says “your reservation is confirmed for 6:00-8:00”. I am feeling confident now! But why do they think 4:00? Next I revisit the email confirmation that clearly says “your reservation is confirmed for…..4:00-6:00” WHAT?!?! But I copied and pasted! What is going on. I go back and reread and start to get a little angry as my itineray actually says “your reservation is confirmed for 6:00-8:00 EDT” What the actual fuck is going on here?? It appears that I have a dynamic email here and when I made the reservation in New York, the confirmation email displayed the time slot in New York time, but now that I am here, it displays the time slot in local time. So, fact is I did request a 4pm reservation from the restaurant, but I was notating the time from the confirmation, I didn’t think twice about the discrepancy. Well, we are going to show up and one of two things is going to happen...they will accept my apologies and seat us, or we will eat at McDonald’s down the street hoping they sell fried apple pies for dessert! We arrive at Brutto Ristorante before 6:00 and the hostess asks if we have a reservation. Funny story, that. I ask her if she speaks English to determine how much of this story she wants to hear. She says “a little” so she gets the abbreviated version...we thought our reservation was at 6, you think it was at 4, can we still eat here? “Of course”, she replies and seats us immediately. The room looks fancy. Several stories above the city, the overlook is urban but the rain prevents a clear view. The menu is split into a couple of sections, basically sushi bar, small plates, and big plates- with some outlier options. We start with a cocktail. I get something called Osaka Memories- a gin, lychee and grapefruit cocktail. 

At the same time I order a tuna roll with tempura flake. I get the sense that this restaurant isn’t sure what they want to be. There are some clearly Italian options, but the sushi menu that does not offer any sushi or sashimi by the piece is different. I get a carpaccio of grilled octopus served over puff pastry with chipotle mayo, and I share in some of El’s choices (crudo de tuna and something called tuna crispy rice) eating one or two pieces off her plate. She also chooses to try to side order of risotto cacio e pepe. She says it is very good, but not authentic. I can’t taste the difference and think it is very good. For dessert I get a corn fondant. I don’t know what that is, but it was really good. It was like a corn souffle with a molten cream corn center that oozed over the entire plate when struck by a spoon. Served with a side of cookie dough ice cream atop shortbread crumble, it was the best dessert I have had in a long time. We toast with an order of Grand Marnier reflecting on our triumphant travel experience.

Mario is on time to pick us up and gets us back to the room around 9:00- well before curfew. We make one last confirmation of the steps we need to follow to get out in the morning. Add to the list of stuff that would not fly at home...we are staying in a place where you need to not only be buzzed in, but also buzzed out! This means that the metal gate is not releasable from the inside! How the hell would you get out in a fire? I have about 6 more hours here before I do not need to know the answer to that question. After the whole after hours fiasco, it was obvious that they were not coming in early just to unlock us from the gate. They showed us how to work the sliding window at the counter from the outside, where to leave the key, and how to buzz ourselves out, being sure to reset the egresses behind us. We spent the last of our time packing for tomorrow. 

Monday October 6

We each get a pretty poor night’s sleep and wake groggily to our 3:15am alarm. With everything pretty much packed, there is little to button up once we are showered and dressed. We go to text Mario and find he has already arrived. We put the exit plan in motion and slink out of the place as inconspicuously as possible, save the loud Ka-CHUNK the metal gate makes no matter what time of day it is shut- though it seems three times as loud against the backdrop of our silent street. The ride is quiet and at the end of the 45 minute drive we try our best to express our sincerest gratitude for everything he has done for us this visit. He was a tremendous asset and his professionalism was unequalled. We are very glad to have made his acquaintance. We have heard such mixed information about the airport and come to the realization, like most things we run into when travelling, there are a lot of moving parts and variables, so when you ask how long it will take to get to the airport, you could hear any answer between 45 minutes to two hours. What time should we leave for a 7:30 flight? Somewhere between 2:30 and 4:30am- depending on who you ask. We leave it mostly to our driver who has not steered us (pun intended) wrong this trip. The consensus is 4:00am. At this hour there is zero traffic and shockingly, no construction, so it is smooth sailing from door to door and once we arrive, we are through security in minutes. Happy we left when we did, but we now have plenty of waiting time. Surprisingly, most shops are open and we wait it out with a coffee and breakfast sandwich. 

The flight from SAL to Miami is uneventful. Though I am sincerely questioning how I chose our seats yesterday and the only two seats near each other were in the back of the plane. I chose an aisle seat in row 25 and an aisle seat in row 26. They are across from each other so at least El and I were within arms length should I need to hit her up for some M&M’s on the flight. The thing is that once we are in the air, I realize both her and I are sitting in rows with empty middle seats. Why on Earth were those seats not available to me less than 24 hours ago when I was making my selection? The flight is a quick 2½ hours and we are landing in Miami on time. Now, the thing is that some cities are served by airports that are nowhere near the city center- San Salvador for example, but Miami, on the other hand, is less than 5 miles from parts of the city that are worth visiting. With nothing to declare, no checked luggage, and Global Entry, we knew that we would be through the immigration lines relatively quickly. This gave El the idea to see what we could do together to pass time and experience in a new city instead of sitting in our separate terminals waiting for our 7:30pm flights. Before most of our flight has gotten through passport control, El and I have been welcomed to Miami, cruised past the baggage claim, and standing in the rideshare lane on our way to Sangwich- a place in Little Havana on 8th Street known for the lines of people waiting to get a great cubano- we add to the line, though we are looking to eat in. It does not take us long to be seated. The sandwich is good, but if this is a great one, I may not be the target market for a cubano. After eating half, I am full and get my other half to go for the plane ride later. We load up with our packs again and start heading down to a place El found called La Trova. It’s also on 8th St., but we understand they don’t open until 4:00. It is hot, hot, hot walking down 8th. Just because we travel “light”, doesn’t necessarily mean we travel light! Carrying the packs in the midday sun is a challenge. On the way to the bar- considered one of the 50 best in the World (by who? who knows!) we spot Domino Park and stop in to see the lively action in person. There is no serious domino slapping and the multiple games running at once seem to be on the civil side. The sign tells us that it is a 55+ club and you have to be a member to play. No issue, we are just passing through. We pass by an alleyway of murals that catches El’s eye, but I am moving on and don’t realize she wanted to stop until a couple of blocks down. We press on to La Trova. There is activity inside and we are hoping our info was wrong and they are open. Approaching the door, we are met at the entrance by an employee telling us that they are closed for a private event until 4:00. Feeling that might cut it too close if we wait and then grab a drink here before Ubering back to the airport, we agree this might not be the time for this stop. I quickly look up some other places in the area and find the Ball and Chain Bar, also on 8th Street. We head back with a pitstop to El can visit the mural alley. Once we make it to the bar we get a seat and settle in. The live latin jazz band starts playing. I order a Calle Ocho Old Fashioned- usually bourbon or rye, this is made with aged rum and tobacco infused bitters, and garnished with a tobacco leaf. It is an interesting twist on the classic drink. I like it- though I don’t need another. We grab an Uber back to the airport and wind up with a great driver who offers to drop us each at our respective terminals- thought it was unexpected. She was great. El and I wave our goodbyes and head to our gates to embark on the solo portion of each of our vacations. Her to Rome, me to Nashville.

sim