El Salvador's buses.

Where private transport is in short supply, mini buses are an acceptable way of getting around.  People can be packed in to capacity and more.

One day we visited downtown San Salvador with a young El Salvadoran Mum and her lovely young, well mannered son, on pirate bus number 42.  Downtown is the main market near the main Catholic Cathedral.  On arrival, we walked a lot. The young man came along to ensure that my husband, who looks around a LOT, was kept within sight of the young Mum and myself.  The young Mum was the tour guide.

The best part of the market was the best cheese and lorroco pupusas we had eaten in El Salvador at what could have been the dirtiest food stall in the market.

It was a well spent day though.  There is not a lot to say about the market that differentiates it from markets anywhere.  It was busy, varied and packed tight with people.  Oh yes, one stand-out happening was a shoe repair.  Repairs are done at a stall with every imaginable machine available.  All old-tech.

My shoe needed stitching where the cross strap had loosened from the buckle.  A similar repair at home would cost about ten dollars.  At this market it cost 25 cents as was done in 3 minutes.

The mini buses are not pirate taxis.  They just look like them.  You pay 25c for any journey within the outer limits of San Salvador.  This No. 42 was not to be outdone by any other in its fleet.  One felt thankful that the chassis used unseen hands to hold on tight to the cab partly because the nuts and bolts doing the job looked to have long given up the uphill fight. Why we weren't left sitting on the
seats while the driver and chassis took off is one of the less talked about blessings of El Salvador!

On this return journey, my husband had basically disappeared down to the floor boards on his seat at the back, with young Mum and son doing their best not to sit on top of him.

Eventually I carefully put my elbows inside the cab part lest they scrape on the ground around some of the corners.  A jest ofcourse.  It just felt as though we leaned over so much as we took the corners.

We  made it home in the tic of an eyelid.

El Salvador really blessed us, as the man with the second world was helmet told us it would, first time we came.