The plane left from Denver around nine in the evening and I slept most of the way to LAX. It wasn't even half capacity and my row was vacant so I lifted up the arm rests and lay across the seats. I was extremely groggy when I arrived and I could not remember if my bag was checked all the way through to San Salvador. I saw a person who works for American Airlines at a desk and I explained my situation. My eyes were bloodshot from sleeping with my contacts. Still not fully awake my words came out in jumbles and mumbles and I'm sure the dude I was speaking with thought I was on drugs. Yes, he said, the bags are checked through to my final destination.
I had to check in again at TACA airlines to pickup my ticket to San Salvador. On an elevator I met a flight attendant who tells me the shortcut to get to the check in area. I have to cut through baggage claim and head up to another elevator. She asks me if I'm from either Australia or New Zealand - Further proof that I was still groggy and not speaking correctly.

All the spots were open at the check in counter for TACA airlines. The girls manning the counters all seemed to be hot South Americans so I went to the prettiest one and gave her my passport and reservation ticket. I asked her where she was from, Peru she said. I smiled and imagined that all the girls in Peru are as pretty as her; Peru is on my list of countries to visit. A few minutes later she says I'm all set.

On the airplane to San Salvador I sat next to an obese guy who didn't speak a lick of English. He had to ask the flight attendant for an extension for his seatbelt (If you've ever been on an airplane then you know that the seatbelts are already pretty large). What's funny is that while I was waiting to board the flight I was thinking I would hate to sit next to that guy. I guess that's what I get for thinking bad thoughts about extremely fat people. Needless to say I was uncomfortable for the four and a half hour journey while Buddha was snoring soundly.

Before I could collect my baggage in San Salvador I have to pass through Immigration. How was I to know that I had to give the Official $10 US Dollars before I could pass through? I didn't even know that the USD was the standard currency in El Salvador, why don't they have their own money? I guess it makes things easier for me so I don't have to calculate the exchange rate in my head each time I want to buy something. I swear to God that there's only one ATM in the whole airport and it's up the stairs and on the other side of the building. So I finally paid off the Immigration Official and pass through customs.

This is when I remembered that I forgot my ‘Guide to Central America' book and don't know the directions to any of the hostels. I found a Taxi and all I know to say is ‘hotel'. We play charades for a few moments and finally he understands that I want a cheap hotel. The center of town in San Salvador is about forty-five kilometers away from the airport and as we ride down the street I see little huts made of cardboard boxes. I look a bit further towards the mountains and I see hundreds of these little huts that people live in. A few minutes later I saw a Ferrari pass us on the other side of the road. This is where confusion sets in.

By the time I reached my hotel, Hotel Florida on Boulevard Los Heroes, I could pretty much guess that there is absolutely no middle classes here - either your dirt poor or filthy rich. On the outskirts there appears to be multimillion dollar mansions. My hotel isn't bad, has everything I need - bed, bathroom and shower. It's cheap, only $20, but not as cheap as I saw in my guidebook that I forgot to bring.

Later, while walking down the street I probably saw more guns than I've seen in my entire life, no joke. There are security guards, literally, every thirty feet carrying rifles and hand guns. They mostly look like board kids that were tossed a uniform and gun and told to stand in a certain spot. There are security guards standing at entrances to banks, supermarkets, and even ice cream shops.

Surprised, I noticed that there is a large mall just around the corner and fast food galore. I walked around the mall looking for a bookstore that would have a guidebook to Central America. A few hours and I only found three book stores, one of which only had a couple English language books. No luck.

In the evening I found a nice restaurant and I felt weird walking in with a t-shirt and shorts. It was the type of restaurant where the host puts the napkin on your lap. This was the first time that I can say I ate like a king for around ten bucks. I had the best Quesadia ever, an awesome beer in frosted mug and after my meal I had a huge piece of cake and some freshly brewed Salvadorian coffee. I paid with a credit card and the receipt didn't have a line for tip, so I just assumed that I'm not supposed to tip here. Fine with me. I found my hotel and fell asleep early.

Today I got up early and went on a search for that guide book. I went to a few more bookstores and one actually had the brand I was looking for which is ‘Lonely Planet' but they didn't have one on Central America oddly. Figuring there's not a whole lot to do in El Salvador anyways I took a taxi to the bus station and ordered a ticket to San Jose, Costa Rica with a night stopover in Managua, Nicaragua. The bus leaves tomorrow morning at 5am, which sucks, and arrives in Managua at 5pm. I then leave at 6am to San Jose and arrive there at around 4pm.

Tonight I'll stay awake all night until it's time to catch my bus. I'll pass the time by going to La Zona Rosa (The Red Zone) for some Friday night drinking and partying. Wish me luck.