My tuk tuk pitched out into traffic and jolted to a stop at the first set of lights. As it turned green, the motorcycle beside us lurched into a cat wheel, shooting ahead of us, the scooter next to him bolted after him, and our tuk tuk picked up the rear, gears grinding, engine struggling as it coughed to life and chugged through the intersection. Each gear shift was a screeching protest from the stressed engine. We puttered across the bridge and made our way from Santa Elena into the beautiful and quaint Flores. Cobblestone streets in abysmal disrepair took over for the pavement and we bumped our way along to my hostel, Los Amigos. Continue reading →