Mardegueo's Estuary Tour

So there we were, stuck inside the well-secured walls of Hotel Pacific Paradise, still one full day away from joining our volunteer group in San Salvador. We started to wonder exactly what we would do with ourselves with all that spare time. You can take laps in the pool and sip pina coladas only for so long.

We asked the lady at the front desk if there were any good tours available. She suggested we check out the tour of the estuary that runs just behind the beach area of Costa del Sol. We shrugged and said, what the heck. Let's do it.

We're glad we did. It turned out to be an unforgettable experience.

The lady from the hotel (one of the few there who could muster a little bit of English for us gringos) kindly accompanied us for the 5-minute walk from the resort, across the street, and over to the boat launch. She was also nice enough to translate back and forth until we could settle on a price for our tour, which ended up being $35 total.

Mardogueo Ruelo, our guide for the afternoon, didn't speak a lick of English, and our grasp of Spanish is still abysmal. It didn't matter. He looked trustworthy enough. We crawled into his boat.

Motoring through the estuary, we felt a constant cool breeze on our face, and were thankful that Mardogueo's boat was covered, which helped shield our skin from the blistering sun.

Mardogueo seemed to know the area like the back of his hand. He was obviously proud of this estuario, his own personal slice of El Salvador.

He didn't care that we spoke almost zero Spanish. Several times along the way, he would point something out and give us the whole spiel in Spanish. We understood maybe 10% of what he was saying, and it was all my fault. Rueful thoughts began to race through my head: Dammit, I should have paid more attention in high school Spanish class back home in Shreveport. Why couldn't Mrs. May get it through my thick skull back then that I would really NEED to learn this language? Oh, I wish I had known then....

This would be one of the first of many, many times on this trip to El Salvador that these haunting regrets would race through my mind.

The estuary views were amazing. We saw a distant volcano. We saw a few of the locals hanging out by the water and taking a swim. Some kids were kicking around a soccer ball.

We felt like we had found something special, something not every visitor to this place gets to see. As the rest of the tourists basked in their purchased paradise alongside the fancy hotel's privately-owned beach, we were now clearly getting an insider's look at how the natives enjoy this beautiful area.

After about ten minutes, we had gotten quite far across the estuary into unrecognizable territory. A tinge of discomfort ran down our spine as we realized Mardogueo was stopping the boat. Worse yet, we also realized he was telling us to get off.

"Where is God's name is this man leaving us?" I asked Michele. She looked at me and shrugged.

We were about to find out. We had no choice. We jumped out of the boat, out shoes splashing in the shallow waters on the edge of the shoreline.

It appeared we were getting out in an area that offered not much more than a cluster of thatched-roof shacks.

A young woman appeared and invited us to take a seat at one of the plastic tables. It dawned on us that we had landed smack in the middle of another modest eatery, much like the pupusa stands alongside the road outside our hotel. But this one was situated along the water, offering a killer view. By golly, it was time for lunch. And Mardegueo had hooked us up, big time.

The woman's name was Alba. And like nearly everyone else in her wonderful country, she very graciously suffered through our clumsy attempt at conversation in Spanish. We settled on a plate of pescado frito (fried fish) and a few drinks. Before scurrying off to whip up our order, Alba invited us to enjoy the hammocks, a couple of which were conveniently hung within mere steps of our table.

As we lay in our hammocks, we looked up and took notice of the very intricate handiwork involved in putting together these thatched roofs. We couldn't take our eyes off the elaborately woven detail. It was beautiful.

And then the fish came out. Hoo boy, what a meal. We shared this one plate, and it was plenty. For those keeping score at home, those are fried tortillas on top of the fish. The entire fish was fried, head and all. When you're done eating the meat on one side of the fish, you just flip the thing over and eat the rest. There was some pico de gallo on the side, along with some fluffy rice and a sliced lime in the middle. And in the little blue cup on the side, lots of salt in which to dip each bite of tasty fried fish. A great combination. We were quite impressed.

Midway through our fish feast, we looked over and noticed Mardegueo never left us. He was catnapping in another hammock about twenty feet away. When it was all over, Alba charged us less than $5 for everything, and our guide woke up, loaded us back in the boat and continued the tour.

He guided the boat to another interesting part of the estuary -- an island where a large number of beautiful white birds were nesting throughout the trees.

The whole tour was fascinating, and lots of fun.

If you happen to be in the Costa del Sol area, we would highly recommend giving Mardegueo a buzz for a tour of your own. His cell number is 7323-3860.

If you can't speak Spanish, just be sure to hand the phone to someone who can. But once you're in the boat, have no fear. You'll be in excellent hands.