Latin America on a budget: Antigua, Guatemala

by Alex Robertson Textor on

My first Latin America budget adventure, to Antigua, Guatemala, got off to a bad start. My flight from New York to Atlanta was cancelled due to bad weather and I was rebooked via Los Angeles. I finally arrived in Guatemala City a day late, and two days of activities suddenly needed to be compressed into one. In the spirit of the assignment, however, I didn’t inflate my budget. $75 was my limit for accommodations, transportation from the airport, all food, and all activities.

Antigua is Guatemala’s top tourist draw. Famous for its language schools, its new age aura, and its nightlife, Antigua is a major tourist center, and it is undeniably cute. The town is a very pleasant place to loll about, with its particular hybrid of colonial, expat, new age, and contemporary Guatemalan influences, though it’s also easy for more action-oriented travelers to fill days here visiting the town’s churches, museums, and convents.

Antigua is also known as a jumping-off point for adventure activities, especially volcano climbing. One of these excursions would have made for a perfect second day’s activity.



Antigua is chock-full of visit-worthy spots. Some essential stops that also happen to be free include the Church of San Francisco, the Santa Catarina Arch, La Merced Church, and Antigua’s central park.

The Church of San Francisco dates back to the 16th century, though it has been rebuilt many times. A service was underway when I visited. The Arco de Santa Catarina is probably the most iconic sight in all of Antigua. It’s an arch across 5 Avenida North, one of the town’s busiest blocks. Its golden yellow hue is matched by the exterior of La Merced church one block away.

La Merced itself boasts a beautifully ornate stucco exterior of golden yellow and snaking white symmetrical vines that look from a distance like icing on a big yellow cake. Next to La Merced is a fountain which can be visited for 5 quetzales (65 cents.) The fountain was not running during my visit; apparently this is the normal state of affairs. Rounding out the town’s top free sights is Antigua’s Parque Central, located at the nerve center of Antigua. The fountain in the center of the park dates to the 18th century.Also not to be missed are a number of sights that have very reasonable admission costs. There is the Museo de Arte Colonial, which includes paintings, largely religious, of the colonial era. The collection is frankly a bit thin, though it is certainly of interest. Admission is 50 quetzales, or about $6.55.

There is a worthwhile exhibit on colonial religious life in the small museum area of the Capuchinas Convent, though the real treat here is the convent’s rambling compound. It features a glorious patio around a fountain and a still, echoey cellar. This was probably my favorite place in Antigua. Admission is 40 quetzales, or $5.25.

Also absolutely worth a visit are the ruins behind San Jose Cathedral, just off the Parque Central. Admission is 3 quetzales, or just under 40 cents. These ruins date from the late 18th century. There are underground storage spaces and at least one quaint and very popular underground chapel.

Eating and sleeping, of course, occupied the lion’s share of my remaining costs.

I had a delicious breakfast of eggs and beans at Fernando’s Kaffee, a lunchtime sandwich at Doña Maria Xicotencatl, and a chicken dinner–no shame!– at Pollo Campero, the enormous Guatemalan fried chicken chain restaurant. Pollo Campero has taken off across Central America and beyond. Table service sets the experience apart from US fast food chains.

At Doña Maria Gordillo Dulces Típicos, a famous traditional candy shop, I obtained a solid shot of sugar in the form of a delicious little dulce de leche puck for 5 quetzales, or about 65 cents.

Here’s my grub costs breakdown: Breakfast came to 34 quetzales ($4.40). Lunch was the most expensive meal at 46 quetzales ($6). Dinner was mine for 40 quetzales ($5.25). Three meals plus my caramel delight totaled $16.30.

My head hit the pillow at Hotel Casa Cristina, a cute guesthouse close to La Merced, where I paid $27 for a small, simple, and attractive room. Casa Cristina is a budget traveler’s dream spot–cheap, friendly, super clean, and without question a good value. Single rooms on the first floor at Casa Cristina begin at an even more affordable $22 per night in high season. There are cheaper places to bed down in Antigua, but I wanted charm and personable proprietors. I found both at Casa Cristina.

So how did I do in respect to my budget? I miscalculated slightly and ended up spending $76 on my action-packed day, once the shuttle from the airport was added into the total. Still, I came awfully close to spending under $75 even with a compressed schedule and the $20 cost of the shuttle from the airport into Antigua.

For anyone wanting to stay in Antigua for longer than a weekend, these costs should flatten out quickly. Those days that don’t require a shuttle to and from the airport, for example, will be much less expensive, and days spent visiting churches and other sights that don’t charge admission could easily translate into expenditures as low as $40 per day, assuming a baseline of $22 for accommodations and around $15 for food.

Hungry for more budget travel ideas? Be sure to check out Gadling’s budget travel archive.

Latin America on a budget: How to plan a budget-friendly adventure

by Alex Robertson Textor on

Latin America is one of the world’s most budget-friendly regions for visitors. There are very cheap places to stay across the region–most notably across Central America–where a few dollars will get you a bed for the night and dinner.

But in a budget-friendly region like Latin America there are also huge divides in terms of quality. How do you do your research to make sure that you come up with decent accommodations and an itinerary that delivers the best value for your money?

There’s a big difference between a guesthouse that’s cheap, clean, and cheerful and one that’s filthy and barely fit for a hedgehog. There’s a big difference between good cheap restaurants and bad cheap grub, too. How do you make the right planning decisions to make sure that you end up pinching pennies in a manner that’s both high-value and high-quality?

In the video below I discuss how I planned my budget-friendly adventure to Antigua, Guatemala.


Check back tomorrow for my story and video on Antigua, Guatemala. On April 12 I’ll extend the same treatment to Suchitoto, El Salvador. All my videos were shot by Gadling’s own Stephen Greenwood. On April 19 Jeremy Kressmann will apply the Latin American budget magic to Bogotá, Colombia.

Latin America on a Budget is proudly sponsored by Delta Air Lines.

Harar home stay: living in a traditional African home

by Sean McLachlan on


If you’re staying for any length of time in a place, the best way to experience the local culture is through a home stay. Luckily Harar has a number of traditional homes offering spare rooms.

A local guide showed me a few and I chose one hidden away in a small alley not far from the Catholic mission. This is the neighborhood that got Harar a UNESCO religious tolerance award because there’s an Ethiopian Orthodox Church, a Catholic mission, and several mosques all within sight of each other. Walking home I use three minarets and a giant cross as landmarks.

Harari homes look inward. All you see is a gate that leads to a compound of two or more houses, hidden behind their own gates. Enter the second gate and you’re still not inside, you’re in a courtyard with the bathroom to one side and to the other a large, ornately carved wooden door leading to the main building. Harari homes have a unique architecture. With thick stone walls and small windows, they stay cool even in the scorching heat of the day. Leaving your shoes at the front door, you enter the nedeba, or living room. The walls are covered in colorful plates and baskets and often cabinets with multicolored glassware. Hararis love to decorate their rooms with the products of their centuries-old crafts. People sit on a series of platforms, reclining against pillows. The platforms are painted red in memory of those who died at the battle of Tchellenqo in 1887, when the Ethiopian Emperor Menelik II defeated Harar’s Emir Abdullahi and the city lost its independence.

Where you sit depends on who you are. The amir nedeba is where the head of the family sits. It’s on the highest platform, usually in one corner where he can see the entrance to the compound. In olden days there was a spot for keeping some spears right next to the amir nedeba, just in case the person entering the compound wasn’t welcome. After a month in Harar I’ve only seen one guy who regularly carries a spear, though.

%Gallery-119012%I’m a regular at a few Harari homes and nobody throws spears at me. Since I’m an honored guest from far away, I sit at the gidir nedeba, the place of honor. I’ve seen members of the family sitting in that spot immediately move when I come in. No amount of protest will get them to sit back down. The next level down is the tit nedeba (“small place”) for lower-ranking people. This isn’t strictly followed, however. One birtcha (qat-chewing session) I attend has so many people that even some of the most prominent individuals sit on the lower level because there isn’t enough room on the upper. Another, separate platform is called the gebti eher nedeba (“the place behind the door”) and is for the young or people of a lower social class.

Harari homes are full of symbolism. My friend Amir says, “Every color, every shape means something. Most Hararis cannot know it all.”

Even little details are worked out in advance, he says. There’s a special room with a narrow entrance for women to stay during childbirth. It’s wider at the top so that big platters of food can be passed through.

The width of the bedroom door corresponds to the width of a coffin. “That’s to remind you of your fate and to live a good life,” he says.

My house, owned by Faisel and Anisa Abdullah, has a separate upstairs all for me. I get a bedroom, a living room, and a lounge with no furniture but a bunch of pillows ranged around the walls. This is for entertaining. Friends will sit here drinking coffee or chewing qat and talking the hours away. My rooms cost me 3500 birr ($212) a month. Water is included and this is important to confirm when renting a place because water is expensive in Harar, especially in the dry season we’re in now. I wasn’t expecting to have only a squat toilet and bucket showers but it turns out the bathroom has a European-style toilet and a proper shower, luxuries I don’t need but certainly appreciate.

Imme, a German painter staying in a different neighborhood, has three rooms even larger than mine for 3000 birr ($182) a month, but got the more traditional African bathroom. Both of us have far more space than we need, and for a price lower than the city’s hotels!

A home stay allows you to settle in a neighborhood for a while. The closed-off nature of Harari architecture means I haven’t met most of my neighbors, but I’m getting to know the people I pass in the nearby alleys every day. I’m also getting into the rhythm of the place. Just before dawn the muezzin of the Jamia mosque wakes me up with the morning call to prayer. The first couple of mornings I had a hard time falling back asleep, but now the flowery sounds of Arabic barely register in my dreams. I’d make a bad Muslim. The muezzin’s call to prayer is followed by low chanting coming from the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, announcing their morning service.

I’m usually up shortly after dawn in any case. Outside my window I can hear the kids from the local school horsing around before the bell rings. If I peek out my window I can just see the front door of the school over the rooftops. The kids in their yellow shirts and sky-blue pants or skirts wait in the shade or run around after each other laughing.

Soon I’m out wandering around Harar. I usually don’t come back until night, when I sit for an hour or two writing in my living room before turning in. The open window lets in all the sounds of the Harari night. Hyenas laugh and howl at the edge of town like the mad lost souls of Purgatory, sometimes getting closer, sometimes drawing away or shifting position. The town dogs bark defiantly but do no good. I often see hyenas pacing through the alleys in the center of town looking for scraps to eat. They keep quiet then, preferring to make noise outside the city walls. The battle ebbs and flows all night, at times lapsing into an eerie silence. Then the hyenas will call to each other again and the dogs will bark self-importantly, completely ignored by the hyenas.

It’s like falling asleep to music.

Don’t miss the rest of my Ethiopia travel series: Harar, Ethiopia: Two months in Africa’s City of Saints.

Coming up next: A visit to a traditional healer!

What effect would a government shutdown have on the national parks?

by Kraig Becker on

As the battle over the U.S. budget continues to grind on, the country is starting to face the very real possibility of a government shutdown starting as early as next Friday, March 4th. What would that shutdown mean to America’s national parks and the communities that depend on them? If past history is any indication, it wouldn’t be good.

National parks continue to be very popular vacation destinations, hosting more than 300 million visitors system wide each year. There are national parks or monuments in 49 of the 50 U.S. states, many of which have a direct impact on local economies, generating as much as $13.3 billion in private-sector revenue each year. If a shutdown does occur, the government would shutter all but the most essential of operations, meaning that all the national parks, recreation areas, monuments, and so on would close as well.

That is exactly what happened back in 1995 and 1996 when the U.S. government closed for business for a total of 27 days. During those two closures, the National Park Service was reduced to just 1% of its usual staff and employed only four people in Washington D.C. The gates to major parks were closed and locked tight, and wire fences were strung up around national monuments. Many travelers canceled their trips, which left hotels and campground empty, costing park dependent communities an average of $14 million per day.

This doom and gloom scenario could play out again if Republicans and Democrats can’t find a way to compromise on the budget. They have until next Friday to pass a funding extension that would keep the government fully operational. If that doesn’t happen, be prepared to cancel any planned trips to the national parks in the near future.

Budget cuts may axe Washington historic sites

by Sean McLachlan on

As the Great Recession drags on, more and more state programs are feeling the pinch. This includes many sites of historic interest. In the latest budget announced by Washington Governor Chris Gregiore, the state’s three Historical Society museums will all have to close.

The State Capital Museum in the Lord Mansion in Olympia, and museums in Tacoma and Spokane, would all be affected. The governor has earmarked $2.4 million to maintain the sites and their archives, but it would cost twice as much to keep them open, The News Tribune reports.

The Lord Mansion is on the National Register of Historic Places and in addition to having a museum, it hosts many public events. The Washington State Historical Society Museum in Tacoma gets an average of 100,000 visitors a year.

To be fair to Governor Gregiore, she’s facing a serious problem. If she keeps the museums open, that means $2.4 million less for other programs, and then some non-travel-related blog would be complaining about her budget. But museums and historical societies are important parts of the community, not just for old-timers who want to reminisce and tourists interested in history, but newcomers who want some background on their surroundings. I’ve moved way too many times, and one thing I always do to get grounded is study the history of my new home.

I also do Civil War research, and that means I’ve seen the inner workings of many historical societies. One place you’ll often find me is the State Historical Society of Missouri. Once or twice a week my studies are interrupted by a crowd of schoolkids coming into the library to see the treasures of the archives. Some researchers grumble about this, but I’m always happy to see them come in. One object that always arouses interest is a long, thin map of the Mississippi River that unrolls like a scroll. Steamboat pilots used it to navigate the perilous waters of the river more than a century ago. The students are fascinated by it, not just because of its odd appearance but because of what it symbolizes. More than once I’ve overheard kids talking about what it would have been like to use the map to avoid sandbars, sunken logs, and dangerous currents just like Mark Twain did.

This historical society, like so many others, has had its share of budget cuts. They recently had to stop a theatrical series and a traveling lecture tour. Both were popular, but the society simply can’t afford them.

It would be a shame if they had to cut the tours. Missouri schoolkids wouldn’t get their imaginations fired by that map anymore.

[Photo courtesy Joe Mabel via Wikimedia Commons]