We've been tearing ourselves away from one place, only to tear ourselves away from another in a day or two. I can't remember if all our departures felt like this.

We celebrated Easter Sunday with a pot luck. The resident cruisers came bearing bowls of multi coloured salads, food for the BBQ, (I bought some thinly sliced pork that turned out to be tender and tasty once marinated and threaded on skewers) bottles of wine, and Ellen's blueberry cake. We met some new folks - including a Swiss couple, a young Russian guy set to head off across the Atlantic with his father, Canadians Honey Lynn and Ted (Patron). There is a Belgian man, a Scot, a few more Canadians and a few American boats here so we are truly an international crowd. Dave (Cordelia) brought out his guitar at the end of the evening for a fine finish.

I took my last walk at Tortugal - this time going down the road that leads to El Estor. Andree and I both have long fast legs and the desire to see what's around one more corner so with Jefe on the leash we wound through grassy hills and vales dotted with tall trees and herds of Brahmin cattle. Although the fields look green, they can't be too nutritious because these cattle aren't fat. There are lots of them though, and we saw them both in fields and in the backs of the dusty trucks roaring along the road and through downtown Fronteras. Although it was a beautiful road, it was most definitely a dangerous one. Cars and trucks routinely pull out to pass on blind corners and hills here. Sometimes they pull back in and sometimes they screech on by with horns blasting. With no protected pedestrian lane (as there is on the main road to Lago Izabel) we could not ever afford to take our personal safety for granted. On more than one occasion, I kept a wary eye ahead and was prepared to leap into the ditch as trucks filled both lanes behind us.

On our last day, I decided to take advantage of the 200Q (less than $30) price for a massage. Although I didn't realize I could use one, Blanca soon found the knots and stiffness that come with age and balancing on boats (and maybe twisting around to watch for trucks?). It was absolutely the best massage I have ever had. She is one of those strong, short Guatemalan women; she knows how to use her skills and has the hands to do it. Add in the fact that she uses the massage table on Daphne's deck - up on the hill under swaying palms where bird songs, sweet almond oil, gentle breezes and warmth of the tropical sun on the roof brought all my senses into play. It was so wonderful I booked Jim in for the afternoon!

With foresails down and put away, decks all washed, lines soaked and softened, fuel tank topped up and water tanks mostly drained, we untied ourselves and backed off the dock on Tuesday.

Even with the activity of Semana Santa over, the marina district was still busy and the mountains seemed far away, often shrouded in haze. There was still noise from the bridge and light from the marinas and the town. We could feel ourselves relaxing as we motored down river, through Lago El Golfete to the westernmost of the 3 little bays at the eastern end. We dropped anchor among the other boats - Genesis, Androsian, Campania, Scrammin' and a little boat we had last seen at San Pedro, had a swim in the beautiful clean water and settled into the peacefulness - for just a couple more days.

The stars came out, lights flickered along the waters edge, the occasional lancha motor was heard as the fishermen came back from laying their nets, Madcap moved gently on her anchor and all was well in our little corner of the world.