Our next world exploration started after 2 months of living at home from mid-June to mid-August. “Home” has taken on a new meaning for us. We don’t own a house anymore. We don’t have a car sitting in a driveway, furniture we picked out, a favorite mug in the cupboard, or even a kitchen where we instinctively know which drawer holds the spatula. We were back among familiar people and familiar streets, but still living in someone else’s space.
I wondered whether that would bother me. Would I miss opening my own front door and being surrounded by things that were mine? So far, the answer is no. I actually find the absence of all that stuff wonderfully freeing. There is no house demanding repairs, no car needing maintenance, no accumulation of things to organize. My time feels more like my own — available for friends, running, hiking, concerts, cooking and, of course, figuring out where we’re going next. And we can experience new “home” bases very easily when we return to the United States.
We quickly settled into a very different kind of retirement routine: doctors and dentists mixed with trail runs, gym sessions, concerts and dinners with friends. At the YMCA, I was amazed by exercise classes packed with retirees who were jumping, lifting, balancing and generally refusing to behave old. It was encouraging to see so many people fully embracing their “go-go” years.
We ran the familiar hills and trails of Berkeley’s Tilden Park and rejoined our Marin running friends and found ourselves back on the trails of Mt. Tam each Saturday. We walked and talked with friends, played games with family, showed a few Africa photos, and went to concerts, musicals and plays. And I cooked. A lot. After months of restaurant meals and food prepared by other people, I hadn’t realized how much I missed being in a kitchen, preparing the foods we dreamed of, as our Africa trip was winding down.
Goodbye Home, Hello Centro America
We picked two countries in Centro America to visit. Having already been to many parts of Costa Rica, we wanted to see other countries. The first was Guatemala. My first impression of Guatemala came simply from walking down the street. “Buenos días,” someone would call. Then someone else. And another person. At first I instinctively wondered what was coming next. Were they going to offer us a tour? Ask for money? Try to sell us something? Nothing came next. They were simply saying good morning.
I hadn’t realized how much of a protective shell I had developed during parts of our Africa travels, where approaching strangers so often wanted something from us. In Guatemala, that shell cracked. When people smiled, I smiled back. When they greeted us, I began greeting other people first. It became this lovely little cycle of warmth among strangers.
We visited 3 areas in Guatemala – Antigua, Lake Atitlan and Tikal National park.
We optimistically set off for a run through Antigua and discovered fairly quickly that Antigua had other plans for us. The altitude made every hill feel steeper than it looked, the cobblestoned streets weren’t exactly designed for running and the sidewalks, if they existed, were hardly wide enough for one person to run on. But the biggest deterrent were the stray dogs that kept trotting over to investigate us. Most long-time runners have had at least one unfortunate dog encounter – we didn’t want to add another one in a foreign country.
Eventually we surrendered and decided to do a long sight-seeing walk in the city. We wandered past old churches and colorful buildings, crossed little plazas full of families, and kept catching glimpses of volcanoes rising beyond the rooftops.
Then we went to stay at Lake Atitlan – a beautiful area with volcanoes 🌋 surrounding the area. There are small towns that you can only access via boat and then a very steep climb. Our version of Lake Atitlán was quiet mornings, yoga with volcano views, boat rides and steep walks around parts of the lake. Just down the path was another Lake Atitlán entirely.
That version belonged to twenty-something backpackers from around the world: cheap drinks, hammocks, games, dancing, sunbathing, more drinks and mornings spent looking as though the night before had been a terrible mistake.
Since we had to walk past several of the hostels to reach town, they became part of our daily entertainment. One time was particularly funny 😁 – a somewhat overweight, pasty-white dude emerged from the lake wearing only a thong swimsuit that barely covered his penis and showed everything else. It was earlyish in the morning so only a few of the partiers got to see this sight and they almost died laughing as he rolled out his towel on the lawn and got into sunbathing position. Was he still drunk? Had he lost a bet? Was this simply his preferred Guatemalan tribal wear? We’ll never know. What I still can’t explain is why neither of us took a photo.
After that we went to Tikal National Park to stay inside the park to see the Mayan ruins at sunrise, sunset and in-between. Also hoped to see jaguars, coatis, monkeys, snakes and exotic birds. The ruins were extensive and it helped to have a guide who knew where they were going. The guides also lit up the ruins in the dark and found us shelter during a downpour. Very impressive restoration of the Mayan buildings that is continuing today.
My favorite experience at Tikal began in complete darkness. We climbed a Mayan temple before sunrise and sat high above the jungle waiting for daylight. At first we could barely see anything. We just sat there listening. Then the jungle began waking up.
Birds called somewhere below us. Leaves rustled. And then the howler monkeys awoke — an astonishing, guttural roar rolling across the treetops. We first thought they were the elusive jaguars prowling through the forest.
Slowly the black jungle became gray, then green, and the tops of ancient temples began appearing above the canopy. Sitting on a Mayan structure that had been there for more than a thousand years while the jungle came alive around us was one of those travel moments when I thought: This is exactly why we’re doing this.
Ironically, while we were sitting there hoping to see wildlife, a jaguar was hunting and killing a coati right near the park entrance. The staff saw the whole thing and filmed it. So we did technically “see” a jaguar hunt at Tikal — just later, on somebody else’s phone.
From Tikal’s Jungle to Panama’s Skyline
After enjoying the friendliness and rural areas of Guatemala, we headed to Panama – specifically Panama City. After rural Guatemala, Panama City felt almost worlds apart. Suddenly there were glass skyscrapers everywhere, rising beside the Pacific, with construction cranes adding still more to the skyline. I hadn’t pictured Panama City looking anything like this.
Fortunately, Mike had booked us in Casco Viejo (the old town), where the scale immediately changed. Instead of towers and highways, we had narrow streets, restored old buildings, plazas, restaurants and bars we could walk to at night. It felt intimate and atmospheric in a way the modern city did not.
At night we wandered out on foot to little speakeasy-style lounges tucked inside the old quarter. Cushy seating, cocktails, live music and old buildings made it easy to imagine we’d wandered temporarily into the 1920s. Of course we brought our playing cards with us and even met a couple from Canada who had brought their cards and cribbage board. While the U.S. and Canadian governments wrangle over tariffs, we enjoyed neighborly card playing!
The influence of the United States is so evident in Panama. And everyone in Panama celebrates Jimmy Carter who finally arrived at the right thing to do and gave back the Panama Canal zone (which is vast and filled with lots of barracks, administrative buildings, etc.) to Panama. Most of the city is clean, well-maintained and safe – we enjoyed running there. We toured the Panama Canal (not going through the locks on a boat) and saw a great 45 minute documentary narrated by Morgan Freeman. I expected the Panama Canal to be one of those sights that was historically important but not necessarily thrilling to watch. Instead, I found the engineering fascinating. Ships that seem impossibly large are raised and lowered through the locks while an entire scheduling system decides who gets through, when they go, and how the limited water supply is used. I hadn’t realized how much strategy goes into moving every ship from one ocean to the other.
Another tour we did was up north to the rainforest and the lake that is at the other end of the Panama Canal – Gatun Lake. On the way we saw large ocean vessels making their way through Panama. On Gatún Lake, the wildlife became a kind of scavenger hunt. Our boat would slow, someone would point toward the trees, and all of us would start searching. Capuchins appeared in the branches, followed by Tamarins. We spotted a sloth doing what sloths do best — almost nothing — along with bats, tropical birds and a neque, a long-legged rodent that looked a little like a miniature capybara.
And with that, our brief Centro America chapter was over.
One small thing had already changed in the way we talk about ourselves. In Africa, when people asked where we were from, we usually answered, “America” after many failed attempts to get them to understand “United States”. On this trip, the inhabitants are Americans too — Central American, and soon South American. We therefore reply that we are from “Estados Unidos”, although saying Canada is looking vastly more appealing.