When we heard about Livingston, a tiny outpost on the Guatemalan coast with an intriguing history and only accessible by boat, we knew we had to go.
So from the busy port of Puerto Barrios, we sought passage north.
After some difficulty trying to decipher the schedule and ticketing procedure for the trip… CONTINUE READING >>
When we heard about Livingston, a tiny outpost on the Guatemalan coast with an intriguing history and only accessible by boat, we knew we had to go.
So, from the busy port of Puerto Barrios we sought passage north.
After some difficulty trying to decipher the schedule and ticketing procedure for the trip, a young man named Salvin came to our aid.
He grew up in Puerto Barrios and had gone to college in Texas, and once he heard our confused English — and poor attempts at Spanish — he jumped in to help us.
Salvin explained that there were no tickets for these small, open ferries. The process is that everybody just climbs on board, hands over fifty Quetzal (about ten dollars), and the skiff leaves whenever it gets full… a boatload so to speak.
We thanked Salvin and stepped aboard, and in no time we were motoring our way across the harbor and up the coast to our destination.
Along the shore, the jungle was so dense that it looked like a solid wall. That and the rugged terrain are what have conspired to keep Livingston so isolated.
Approaching the little town, we still had almost no idea what to expect.
We knew that Livingston has Guatemala’s highest concentration of Garifuna — the descendants of the Carib and Arawak natives — and West Africans who ended up along this coast after multiple trials and tribulations.
In 1635, two Spanish ships carrying Africans to the West Indies for the slave trade shipwrecked near St. Vincent.
The survivors swam ashore and settled among the Carib and Arawak.
Known as Black Caribs, they became the dominant population of St. Vincent until the British invaded in 1763.
Over the following years the Garifuna people were killed and scattered by the British until 1798, when their remnants were exiled to the Island of Roatan off the coast of Honduras.
From Roatan the Garifuna migrated to the mainland of Honduras and settled all along the the Caribbean coast of Belize, Guatemala and Nicaragua.
Hundreds of years later, Livingston’s isolation has created a remarkably untouched example of Garifuna culture.
As we headed up the hill from the docks we took that all in.
We basically had the place to ourselves and the village has an authentic, funky charm that we imagined to be a lot like how the Caribbean islands must have been before they were so developed for tourists.
Livingston is tiny so we were able to walk the main part of it in about an hour.
After topping the hill from the coast and crossing in an open boat, we had had quite a bit of sun and sought shelter in a very cool little inn/restaurant, Hotel Gil, overlooking the bay.
We had noticed it from the boat on our way in and were intrigued how it was built in a stair-step fashion up the side of the steep hill.
When we went inside, no one was there. We walked toward the back and a woman appeared who led us to the restaurant.
We had our own private balcony with tranquil Caribbean views, so we ordered up a couple of the local brews, Gallo.
Gallo is Guatemala’s oldest continually produced beer, dating back to 1896 and by far the most popular beer in the country. It is also the best beer ever made, or maybe it was just the surroundings that made us think so.
Suppose we’ll have to try some in the United States, where it is known as Famosa, to be certain.
Fantastic surroundings and suds aside, the restaurant portion of this establishment left much to be desired, as we had shown up between meal times.
The menu consisted of a few sandwiches from the cooler and some chips. We were dead set on getting some tapado, so we set out to find some.
Tapado is the Garifuna´s signature dish, a seafood soup with an entire fish, shrimp and whatever shellfish was caught lately — soft-shell crab on our particular day — with plantain and/or green bananas in a coconut milk broth spiced with cilantro and a hint of hot peppers.
The hot peppers set off the sweetness of the coconut milk perfectly.
Most of the cafes in town offer it, and Restaurante El Malecon was no exception.
There was the added bonus that El Malecon sits right in the center of town, so we could watch all the goings on from our open air table on the porch.
After just one bite of tapado, we concluded that we had discovered both the best soup and the best beer in the world on the same day.
What are the chances?
But by mid-bowl the entire feel of the town changed drastically.
The tour groups from a cruise ship arrived and suddenly the tiny outpost –including our peaceful restaurant — was overrun with tourists.
On the upside, a traditional Garifuna band was brought in to entertain the invading hoards.
The ensemble consisted of musicians playing several types of rhythm instruments, drums, a turtle shell, conch shell and maracas, while chanting lyrics.
It made for a totally unique sound, and very entertaining.
But as fun they were, there were just too many people, so after a couple of songs we had to bail.
WATCH: A day in Livingston (with highlights of the incredible Garifuna band!)
As we walked off our meal and took in the town, we were struck by the military presence we’d seen.
Livingston, being the sleepy little outpost it was, didn’t seem in need of such heavily armed, fully camouflaged men in uniform.
To us, they stuck out like sore thumbs among the gentle townsfolk. It might be part of everyday life in Guatemala but it was hard for us to get used to the soldiers patrolling streets with automatic rifles.
In an attempt to avoid the crowds, we headed back down the hill toward the docks and noticed a small road leading along the water with only a few Mayan and Garafuna townspeople anywhere to be seen.
This led us to the fishing docks. Actually, the overwhelming smell of fish led us through a tiny alley and we popped out on a dock that was completely covered with fish drying in the sun.
They were making saltfish.
Looking around, every inch of every dock was covered, there were thousands of fish – cleaned, split open, salted, and laid out flat to dry.
The fishermen were hanging around in a dockside watering hole and came out to flip the fish every now and then.
No telling how many centuries this routine has been taking place.
Following the road further, the town soon gave way to the relentless jungle.
We didn’t go all the way to the end — we didn’t have to — we knew the end was not far because there are no roads in or out of Livingston.
Only the only way out was on little boats we came in on. It was at that point we had no clue had no idea when they stopped running.
With sundown fast approaching, that realization had us sadly heading back to the docks.
Absolutely blown away by this little town in Guatemala only accessible by water, so much culture!.. CONTINUE READING or enlarge video >>
When we heard about Livingston, a tiny outpost on the Guatemalan coast with an intriguing history and only accessible by boat, we knew we had to go. So from the busy port of Puerto Barrios we sought passage north.
Approaching the little town, we still had almost no idea what to expect. We knew that Livingston has Guatemala’s highest concentration of Garifuna, the descendants of the Carib and Arawak Indians, and West Africans who ended up along this coast after multiple trials and tribulations… continue reading about beautiful Livingston, Guatemala >>
“After packing their youngest off to college, the Gypsy Nesters hit the road and never looked back. ‘We’re going down in a ball of flames!’ says”… READ THE FEATURE HERE and leave a comment here
So psyched about this article in Medium!
“After packing their youngest off to college, the Gypsy Nesters hit the road and never looked back. ‘We’re going down in a ball of flames!’ says”… READ THE FEATURE HERE and leave a comment here
From now on, when we visit a city and wish we had been able to stay much longer, we shall refer to the situation as Stockholm syndrome.
The Swedish capital was completely captivating.
And we couldn’t help but have fond feelings for our captor… CONTINUE READING >>
Thanks to Visit Stockholm for providing this captivating experience – and to Eurail for the 15-day rail pass that inspired us to undertake it! As always, all opinions are our own.
Strömsborg (Stream’s Castle)
From now on, when we visit a city and wish we had been able to stay much longer, we shall refer to the situation as Stockholm syndrome.
The Swedish capital was completely captivating, and we couldn’t help but have fond feelings for our captor.
Stockholm’s train station
As the sun set, we stepped off the train and were immediately helped by a friendly local who pointed us toward the bridge leading to the island where the original city and our hotel were located.
We felt completely welcome.
Stockholm consists of fourteen islands, so bridges are everywhere
Walking the ancient streets of the old town, we felt phenomenal. Once we saw the fabulous quarters at the Victory Hotel that we would be occupying for the next couple of days, we knew we would’ve been delighted to remain in captivity much longer.
A True Victory
The lobby
The Victory Hotel is the brainchild of Gunnar Bengtsson, who over many years gathered an amazing amalgamation of artifacts, mostly focused on the torrid love story of Admiral Lord Nelson and his scandalous squeeze, Lady Hamilton.
An authentic letter to Lady Hamilton from Admiral Nelson
His solution for storing the memorabilia was to open a hotel and decorate it with his treasures.
And so, the Lord Nelson Hotel was born. But one hotel couldn’t contain Bengtsson’s collection, and soon the Lady Hamilton and the Victory Hotels, the latter named after Admiral Nelson’s ship, were added to the family.
The rooms at the Victory are much more than just a place to stay for the night; they are lodging with a story to tell.
Each one is named for a captain, and features paintings of his ship, family heirlooms, and pictures. Our suite, honoring Captain A. G. Johansson, was filled with fantastic 18th century furnishings, wedding photographs, and original paintings dated 1642.
Spoiled much? This was in our room when we arrived!
Even though we were excited to see the city, we couldn’t pass up dinner at Djuret, the restaurant at the Victory Hotel.
The name means the “whole beast,” describing their concept of serving one animal at the time.
Each day, three-course and six-course menus are prepared until an entire animal is used. Our evening’s selection was moose, so it looked as though once again Veronica would be forced to endure the myth.
But our server explained that the animal was actually more like what we would call an elk. Veronica believes in the existence of elk because she has personally seen one, so all was well.
Whatever the critter was, it was prepared perfectly — roasted and sausage-d — served with Jerusalem artichoke, onion, and Chanterelle mushrooms.
Dessert stepped away from the moose (we were kind of hoping they’d lay mousse on us), instead we went where every human truly wants dessert to go, chocolate and ice cream.
The next morning we met up with our guide, Marco, for a whirlwind overview of Stockholm.
Beginning with an exploration of the old town, Gamla Stan, we caught up on the history of not only the city, but also the country.
The name Stockholm means “log island” in Swedish and is based on a legend about a gold-filled log coming to rest on the island where the original city was founded.
Evert Taube, Stockholm’s beloved troubadour, bid us a good morning!
Whether the tale is true or not, the spot on Lake Mälaren was ideal for both protection and trade routes — a perfect spot for a king to take up residence.
These days the parliament does the actual ruling, but the king still reigns from the palace, so that would be one of our first stops.
As we approached the Kungliga Slottet, or Royal Palace, we saw some first-rate imperial pomp and circumstance.
Mounted guards escorted horse drawn carriages carrying dignitaries through the main gate for a meeting with the king,
We were duly impressed by the regal spectacle, but somewhat surprised at the low-key approach to security.
Marco explained that in Sweden, the royal family regularly goes out in public without causing much of a stir.
It’s not Sweden without a fika!
Before moving on, Marco announced that we could hardly let the morning go by without a fika. He explained how this Swedish version of the coffee break has become an important part of the culture.
Generally, one does not refuse to fika when asked unless one wishes to appear rude. It’s a fun word, fika, both a noun and a verb.
So fika we did.
We popped into a bakery and fika-ed our little brains out with coffee and another Swedish tradition, Kanelbullar or cinnamon rolls.
The proper fika also involves socializing, which we did, while Marco described how the practice has had an effect on business relationships in Sweden. Employees and bosses often fika together, and that leads to a more relaxed and better working environment.
A King’s Folly
The star of our next stop most certainly did cause a stir back in its day. From the small island that contains the old city we took a ferry to see an unbelievably unscathed piece of Swedish history.
The two hundred-foot ship, Vasa, sank less than a mile into its maiden voyage in 1628 while still in Stockholm’s harbor.
Incredibly, it sat submerged and undisturbed for over 300 years, all due to a king’s bluster.
King Gustavus Adolphus’ desire to have the biggest, baddest ship on the sea was the vessel’s undoing.
By adding an additional deck of canons without offsetting the weight below the water line, the design was badly flawed and the top-heavy ship rolled over and sank within a few minutes of launch.
Not ole King Gus’s finest moment.
In 1961, salvage efforts were undertaken, and now the remarkably undamaged ship stands almost entirely intact in the Vasa Museum.
The poor design may have led to a major embarrassment for the king — it’s said that soon after the sinking, ole King Gus sent men out to cut off Vasa’s masts so he didn’t have to see them sticking out of the water — but it left us with one of the best specimens of shipbuilding from the Age of Exploration to be found anywhere in the world.
The only parts to suffer from centuries under water were the nails — most of which have been replaced — leaving a nearly perfect time capsule.
The lady who lived in her own museum
From the Vasa Museum, Marco continued our time travels at the Hallwyl Museum, which is a perfectly preserved mansion from the gilded age of the 1890s.
The house was built for the Count Walther von Hallwyl and his wife, Wilhelmina, and everything has remained virtually frozen in place.
This was completely intentional; the countess had a system of cataloguing every household item.
This she employed almost immediately upon moving into the home in 1898 with an eye toward leaving a behind a museum after passing away.
We aren’t talking about just the valuable stuff either, Wilhelmina had volume after volume filled with details numbering, photographing and identifying EVERY. SINGLE. THING. in the house.
Costumed guides led us through history.
Her eccentric obsession, possibly what we would call OCD today (not that we are doctors or anything), makes for a remarkable glimpse into the lives of Swedish aristocracy over a century ago.
Wilhelmina even had many tables and desks enclosed in glass cases so that nothing atop them would be disturbed.
Seafood Nirvana
For a quick bite of lunch, and a look at how Swedes shopped and ate back in Wilhelmina’s day, we walked over to the nearby Östermalm Food Hall.
This covered market served as the supermarket for the city, with farmers and fishermen bringing in their fresh wares every day.
Marco shares his favorite goodies with us (David’s stalking out things on his own in the background).
These days, the hall is a lot fancier.
The shopping selection remains impressive, but now the hall has become a popular midday-break spot for everyone from the neighborhood folks to royalty.
Case in point, we learned that the king himself is a regular at one of the restaurants, Lisa Elmqvist.
Not being Swedes, we sat down and waited for some royalty to show up — so we could stalk them — while enjoying creamy fish soup and toast skagen.
Lisa Elmqvist’s classic combination of shrimp, dill, and caviar, on toast was beyond… um, better than… no wait, indescribably… that’s it! … fit for a king.
Our eyes rolled back in our heads. No wonder his royal highness is a frequent customer.
Marco had to drag us away kicking and screaming, reminding us that we had smorgasbord to tackle later that evening.
While we waddled walked to the old town Marco pointed out many of Stockholm’s cutting edge companies in high tech development.
Stockholm has given life to Spotify, Skype, and Ericsson so, once we parted ways with Marco, we headed into the modern era to take a ride to the top of the world’s largest spherical building, the Ericsson Globe.
At the Globe’s SkyView, we climbed inside a smaller glass globe and traveled over four hundred feet up the rounded side to the top of the arena.
WATCH: Vault the SkyView with us!
During the ride up, being mostly mesmerized by the view, we didn’t really notice a fear factor. Then, reaching the top, the 360 degree panorama of the entire city was all our minds could possibly process.
The trip down was a different story.
We are generally immune to any sort of motion sickness, but when we headed over the edge to descend it felt like a slow motion roller coaster.
That sensation of leaving our stomachs somewhere up above our bodies lasted a long, long time, and the view below, with nothing but air beneath us, was pretty darn unnerving.
Smörgåsbording Like it’s Our Job
Once we had our feet back on the ground, we knew we had to get those queasy feelings in check because we had one big event left on our schedule – a real traditional Swedish smörgåsbord.
By all accounts, the place to partake in Stockholm is the renowned Grand Hôtel. It’s a very extravagant setting for what originally was not particularly fancy fare.
The idea behind a smörgåsbord has a more humble background.
The name is a combination of the words smörgås, meaning sandwich, and bord, which means table, but in practice there is a whole lot more than sandwiches going down.
In fact, there is an entire method to properly approach the smorgasbord, which our server kindly walked us through before we took our first bite.
Most importantly, we were told not to pile too much on food on our plates at one time.
Using many plates is not being piggy; it is expected — perhaps even mandatory.
When done properly the meal becomes an event, taking several hours, and we were more than happy to oblige. We feasted our way through the massive spread, beginning with cold dishes of herring.
Thanks to Visit Stockholm for providing this captivating experience – and to Eurail for the 15-day rail pass that inspired us to undertake it! As always, all opinions are our own.
Her eccentric obsession, possibly what we would call OCD today (not that we are doctors or anything), makes for a remarkable glimpse into the lives of Swedish aristocracy over a century ago.
