The poor dog had made the most disgusting liquid mess all over the room. It was absolutely terrible. We gagged and cussed as we used the hotel's fluffy white towels to do our best to sop up the shit stew. Eventually, with the windows open to the cold night and essential oils smeared on our pillows to block any remaining stench, we drifted back to sleep.
The slumber didn't last long though as after an hour or two Charlie began to whine again. I knew this meant I didn't have much time so I threw on some shorts and attached the dog's leash and made my way to the stairs. Remember, our wonderful hotel room was in an old building on the roof top with no elevator. We didn't even make it down the first flight before the sick mutt exploded all over the stairs. A long night was getting longer. At this point there was no reason to take Charlie to the park across the street to do his business. That ship had sailed. I spent the next 20 minutes going back and forth to the building's public restroom grabbing paper towels to deal with the mess.
The act of being awoken by a whining dog, trying to make it out of the building, then making a sad attempt to clean the resulting mess happened twice more throughout the night. The final time as the sky was being lit by the oncoming sun, the building's security guard came outside with me as I took Charlie to the nearby park. He didn't bring his keys to the auto-locking door and we got locked out. I had to yell up toward my room and luckily Kerry heard me eventually and came down to let us in.
We left that day with the goal of making it to a small town just before the Guatemala border. We would spend the night there and do the border crossing, which we assumed would be a long process, early the following day. During the drive we made frequent stops to let Charlie relieve himself, but he seemed to be doing better...Initially,.. Sometime in the afternoon the whining became more and more frequent and eventually there was an accident in the car.
We stopped in a small town to figure out our options. On top of being unwilling to drive with a dog that sick in the back, I was getting worried about my navigator and best friend's long term health. Everything that went in was going right out and he was surely becoming dehydrated. We began researching pharmacological options online and found that some human antibiotics can be given to dogs. There are pharmacies all over Mexico where antibiotics are readily available. I also spoke to my uncle who is a veterinarian who confirmed that a combination of certain antibiotics could help. The pharmacy in the town in which we stopped didn't have one of the meds but thankfully there was a veterinarian in town, and after going an hour out of the way to a different vet's office we had the antibiotic cocktail that would hopefully help Charlie find some regularity.
Due to the medical delay there was no way we would make it as far as originally planned. Whatever meds the Mexican vet gave were apparently working so we were able to drive toward Guatemala for a couple more hours before finding a hotel in some podunk town. Once again there was no easy access to an outdoor area from the room so if we would be having a repeat from the previous night we would be in trouble. In order to get some sleep we locked Charlie in the bathroom to sleep. As I closed the door I looked at Kerry and said, "It's gonna be a war zone in there in the morning."
Morning came and sure enough it was ugly in that bathroom. We cleaned the room and the dog and got on our way. Despite what you'd think after looking at the hotel bathroom, Charlie's antibiotics were starting to work well at this point and the worst seemed to be over. We made it to the border in the early afternoon. It took hours to cancel the Mexican car import permit and go through customs. We eventually made it to the no-man's-land that is the space between borders and were quickly approached by a man who wanted to help us through the process. Normally I avoid these touts when traveling but he seemed knowledgeable and helpful and I had read that some of these guys at the borders can in fact bypass lines and speed the process for a small fee. He got us through the first couple steps of entering Guatemala then said that I would need to come with him to the Guatemala customs office a few blocks from the border to receive the temporary car import permit for driving in Guatemala.
I should have known better. I consider myself a savvy traveler, above getting scammed, but that's exactly what was happening. I had left my car, Kerry, and my dog at the border and rode on the back of some random asshole's motorcycle to an office about a half mile away. I immediately knew something was off. There were five or six people sitting in front of computers in the office, none of whom were wearing government uniforms. I asked if it was an official government office and was greeted with smiles, snickers, and unconvincing yes's. I said that I knew it was not official and walked out as fast as I could. They followed me out trying to show me paperwork that would confirm that it was in fact legit. When I asked the price for my necessary documents they said it would be $300. That confirmed it - no way should crossing the border be anywhere near that much. At the very least I was getting scammed, at worst I would be robbed and attacked. I walked off to find my way back to the border but the guy with the motorcycle had gone something of a roundabout way and I was having a hard time. This border town in Guatemala was a little scary. It was dirty and shady, not the kind of place you want to be walking around alone at night. I called Kerry to tell her what happened so she could get the police if necessary. While I was on the phone the guy with the motorcycle pulled up next to me and said that he would take me to the border. For whatever reason, I agreed, figuring that if he didn't take me where I wanted to go, getting off a motorcyle, even if it's moving is possible.
Luckily we soon ended up back at the border. In retrospect, I think the guy on the motorcycle would have been happy to scam me but once I figured out that I was getting scammed a bit of conscience hit him and he didn't want me walking alone through a dangerous area. In any case, I was safely back with my car, girlfriend, dog, and belongings.
This was not the happy end of the night's stresses. It was time to get the car import permit. I went to the aduana office where there was a group of Canadian travelers going through the same process, one of whom spoke very fluent Spanish. She insisted on helping me communicate with the government agents issuing the permits. I accepted the help knowing that although my Spanish was probably good enough to move through the process, it would likely move a lot faster with her there to interpret. I'm glad she was there. After presenting the copy of the car's title, the DMV receipt showing that I had begun the process for getting a new title, a bill of sale, and proof of insurance, I was told that because I didn't have a title and registration with my name on it I wouldn't be issued a permit to drive the car into Guatemala. If it were just me there I doubt my Spanish would have been good enough to beg and plead my case to try to convince the powers that be that I did indeed legally own the car, but after about an hour my interpreter talked them into issuing the permit. It really didn't look good for a while and I can't stress enough how disheartened I was for a time there. I was pretty sure I'd be driving home from Mexico instead of continuing my adventure through Central America. I got lucky.
After some payments and filling out some documents we finally made it into Guatemala at around 7pm. We had what Google Maps told us was about four more hours of driving to reach Antigua where we planned to spend a couple nights. About an hour into the drive traffic completely stopped. I mean stopped like people getting out of their cars, smoking cigarettes, and talking to other drivers. Every few minutes the line of cars would move 50 feet or so then stop again. We waited in the mess for about an hour and a half and noticed that every once in a while a car from behind us would pass on the wrong side of the road, as traffic coming the other way was light. I realized that if we wanted to make it to Antigua I would need to do like the locals so I began to drive in the oncoming lane. Every mile or so an oncoming car would speedily approach and we'd have to swerve off the road completely or try to find a place to squeeze in back in the appropriate lane. This dangerous game of chicken went on for about 20-30 miles until traffic finally began to clear and we were able to consistently join the correct lane.
We made it into Antigua by about 1am which was late enough, but if we'd waited in traffic I seriously doubt we would have made it before sunrise. We checked into a comfortable room at Hotel Porta Antigua, happy to be done with a very long stressful period.
This was not the happy end of the night's stresses. It was time to get the car import permit. I went to the aduana office where there was a group of Canadian travelers going through the same process, one of whom spoke very fluent Spanish. She insisted on helping me communicate with the government agents issuing the permits. I accepted the help knowing that although my Spanish was probably good enough to move through the process, it would likely move a lot faster with her there to interpret. I'm glad she was there. After presenting the copy of the car's title, the DMV receipt showing that I had begun the process for getting a new title, a bill of sale, and proof of insurance, I was told that because I didn't have a title and registration with my name on it I wouldn't be issued a permit to drive the car into Guatemala. If it were just me there I doubt my Spanish would have been good enough to beg and plead my case to try to convince the powers that be that I did indeed legally own the car, but after about an hour my interpreter talked them into issuing the permit. It really didn't look good for a while and I can't stress enough how disheartened I was for a time there. I was pretty sure I'd be driving home from Mexico instead of continuing my adventure through Central America. I got lucky.
After some payments and filling out some documents we finally made it into Guatemala at around 7pm. We had what Google Maps told us was about four more hours of driving to reach Antigua where we planned to spend a couple nights. About an hour into the drive traffic completely stopped. I mean stopped like people getting out of their cars, smoking cigarettes, and talking to other drivers. Every few minutes the line of cars would move 50 feet or so then stop again. We waited in the mess for about an hour and a half and noticed that every once in a while a car from behind us would pass on the wrong side of the road, as traffic coming the other way was light. I realized that if we wanted to make it to Antigua I would need to do like the locals so I began to drive in the oncoming lane. Every mile or so an oncoming car would speedily approach and we'd have to swerve off the road completely or try to find a place to squeeze in back in the appropriate lane. This dangerous game of chicken went on for about 20-30 miles until traffic finally began to clear and we were able to consistently join the correct lane.
We made it into Antigua by about 1am which was late enough, but if we'd waited in traffic I seriously doubt we would have made it before sunrise. We checked into a comfortable room at Hotel Porta Antigua, happy to be done with a very long stressful period.
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