The road to Panajachel

Ok so let me tell you a little story....

Yesterday we left our little jungle abode and our 2 new Canadian friends (shout out to Heather an Cailey!) in Rio Dulce to go to Panajachel where we are to chill for a few days before heading off to San Pedro...This is Guatemala by the way.
First we have to catch a bus to Guatemala city, this is fine although a long ride (6 hour bus ride) then we have to take a cab to another bus station where the bus there will supposedly take us to our destination. The buses there look like school/circus buses. They are brightly coloured and there is latin music blaring from inside the vehicle. A man takes our bags and tosses them on top of the bus and ties them down with rope. Sketchy but ok, the bags have to go somewhere. 5 minutes into the ride our bus is assualted with street vendors trying to sell us everything from watermelon and water, to gum and books. Then a cowboy preacher man comes on the bus and we all prayed. The seats were very roomy and I thought it was going to be a good time until my bladder announced to me that it really needed to go to the bathroom, and we clearly had another 3.5 hours of travel time left. The bus then stops to let on more passengers and we quickly realize that the roomy seats are actually supposed to seat 3 people not 2, which turned it from roomy to invasion of personal space. I have never been so close to Julia in my life.
the roads are bumpy and the driver doesnt appear to be aware of the speed limit, or the fact that driving into on coming traffic in order to pass, is not really a good idea. Our drive was so focused on speeding as fast as he could that there was a second man who's job appeared to be that of the horn man. Turns out that this man also had the job of climbing on top of the bus while in motion to check on our bags. That my friends is beyond sketchy. It moves right into stoopid and scary mode.
halfway into our ride my butt hurt, my bladder was at the point of exploding, I was thirsty and hungry and I had a slight burn on the left side of my face from sitting in the window seat. Joy.
We pull into Solola where we have to change buses again. Did anyone at any point bother telling us this? The answer is no. If it wasnt for the random German people on the bus who seemed to know how it all works we would have been stranded. We watched as they literally threw our bags from the roof of one bus to the other, amazed that they were even still there, and hoped onto the next circus bus to complete the last leg of our immediate journey. Finally, over 10 hours of bus travel and discomfort later we were in Panajachel, on Lake Atilan. Whew!

Janelle