This is, then, the first town that greets you on the way south via the San Ignacio bridge. Senor/The town of San Ignacio spreading over the hills as one big up-and-down rollercoaster with cars made of three-tired motorcycles from Asia, huffing and puffing around with their loads of local crowd hung with bags from the open market, eating their morning tripe stews, buying little bread buns by the dozens and buzzing home on another back seat while the driver leans over its carefully sprayed sign of allegiance to angels and devils, rock stars and Jesus, the pope and the beast.
So, all in all, if you end up in San Ignacio, bring cash because their ATMs can be rather moody, if all else fails and you need to get cash but debit card won’t work, try a credit card (for us Visa worked). Prepare yourself for some initial loss at the whole new set of names for meat cuts and fish stews and brews, and do look at your banknotes twice before you hand them over, maybe accompanying that with a gentle reminder of how much you are giving to cover the bill. The bus station/departure point for further travel is a bit of a way from the commercial center of town so you’ll need one of the mototaxis to take you there. You will likely wait for the van to fill up before it takes off, stopping as needed along the way to drop people off and pick up new passengers. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to practice your Spanish. It will be much more fun than playing with your smart phones, plus you will not place any belongings under unnecessary spotlights.
Papaya 3, they would say in Columbia. I’ll get to that one of these days.