We reached the border with El Salvador around noon.  We drove over the bridge and then just as we exited the bridge we had to pull over at a white wooden building standing next to the road. Out came four or five men lugging tanks with hoses. They swarmed around the motorhome and trailer and sprayed us for bugs again.    Never mind that there was one of the biggest brown moths (it had to be 12 inches from wing to wing) I had ever seen clinging to the front of the building. Bill pointed it out and asked what they were going to do about it. One man stopped spraying and replied with a laugh, “That is our mascot.”   Once done he handed Bill a piece of paper with lots of rubber stamps and signatures on it. Now we could go on to the actual border station.
There was a big "Welcome" sign hanging above the door of the Migracion building. Next to it a sign listing the steps to be followed to enter the country of El Salvador.
We followed the steps listed: 1.  Migracion, got our tourist visas; 2. Policia, the motorhome and motorcycle had to be registered -  2 Colones (about 40 cents US); 3. Sanidad, had to show the stamped piece of paper for the bug spray and got another receipt for the spray job this cost another 1.25 Colones; 4. Aduana, another quick vehicle inspection. Back into the motorhome and on our way again.

We thought that was it but then we had to stop at a little military outpost to turn in the little white cards we got from the Policia. Now it became interesting. Bill was outside talking to the officials. It seemed to be taking longer than usual, with a lot of gesturing towards the motorhome’s roof and the trailer. Now it was decided we would have to unpack the entire motorhome so they could check what we were bringing in. Bill told them fine no problem; if they wanted to unpack everything they were welcome to do it. He came inside and told us what was going on. When I started to protest he just shrugged his shoulders and went back out side where he started pulling the lawn chairs off the trailer. He set them up in a row and settled back with the maps and suggested I start making lunch. The kids got out and started to play ball.
Up on the roof the soldiers unpacked a couple of trunks, mostly clothes. They looked at us, just going about our business and they looked at the rest of the bags, trunks, the trailer and the compartments on the outside of the motorhome. Off the roof they came and the one who seemed to be in charge of the inspection went back inside the building. Soon he came out and told us to put everything away that we could leave.

Once we were on the move again Bill said what they really wanted was for us to pay them not to look. They couldn't believe we weren't going to get upset and were just going to sit there and watch them work.
Once out of the border town the Pan American Highway followed the Pacific Ocean for a ways. The beaches were a lot like home except there were no people on them. The road was pretty good and the countryside low rolling hills and pasture land.  Again we went through sugar plantations. Harvesting was going on and the side of the road was littered with stalks and pieces of sugar cane. When ever we went past the cut cane the kids would whine that they wanted to stop and get some to chew on. As we came up to another field Bill pulled over and told the kids they had 30 seconds to get as much as they could carry.
Before we were completely stopped the door was opened and everyone was jumping out. When we started up again, everyone was quiet, their mouths full of cane. I kept eying the pile of stalks wondering what else might be in it. 
They had the strangest road signs. "No maltrate las senales." Bill translated them for us "Do not mistreat the signs!" Okay! 
Towards late afternoon we left the beach and turned inland. As we started the climb towards San Salvador we passed through lush farming and ranching land. There were no fences or cattle guards so the cattle could wander anywhere they wanted. Including the highway.  We had to stop a few times until some great big brown cow decided to move out of our way. The nearer we got to the city the more trees and foliage along the road. We were getting into the coffee growing region.
We arrived in San Salvador around dusk. From what we could see it was a very modern city. Modern enough to have a McDonalds! Of course, we had to stop and have dinner. Funny how I didn't really care for McDonalds at home, but couldn't wait to get in there and order a Big Mac. It tasted darn good.
Next we gassed up, gas was still expensive translated to about $1U.S. a gallon. Next stop a well stocked and clean supermarket.  Bakery items made up more than half of what we bought.
Using the Central America guide book we found an RV park.  Bill went in the office to register us but soon came out shaking his hear. We weren’t going to stay there - it would be $12 US to spend the night with no hook ups. Just to park.
According to the guidebook at the airport there was "no objection to camper vehicle parking overnight in the large parking lot in front . Patrolled."  After some driving around and asking directions we found the airport and parked as far away from the buildings as we could get.  Neither Bill nor I slept real sound, seemed like every time we dozed off a big truck load of soldiers would come through shining their spot lights over everything parked in the lot. It was very definitely patrolled.
We got an early start in the morning so we could reach the border with Honduras before it closed for the weekend. How could they close a whole border for the weekend? But we believed the book and wanted to get there.
From San Salvador to Honduras it was mostly downhill or flat driving.

A poke in the ribs with an elbow, "Mom, Mom look at the kids with the pigs," from Gil who is sharing the front seat with me. Along side the road walked two boys, one probably about fourteen the other Gil’s age, each leading a pig with a rope around its neck. They waved as we went past, Gil ran to the back window to keep watching them. A little further on we passed a group of women, their long skirts brushing the dirt, leading more pigs decked out with harnesses and leashes. Children followed, one holding a big black pig by its tail. It reminded us of taking our dogs for a walk.  As we neared the next village we saw more and more people with their pigs. Big pigs, little pigs, pink pigs, black pigs all sizes and colors. All being lead down the highway.  As we entered the village we saw a sign pointing to a "pig market."  We didn't stop or ask if it was a beauty contest or a bacon contest.  I guess this is what you call a “Real Farmers Market.”

We were winding down out of the mountains away from the coffee plantations and back into the cane and rubber plantations. Passed quite a few carts loaded with vegetation being pulled by oxen. The father would be walking in front leading the oxen and the children ridding on the cart perched on top of the cargo.  No stopping this time for sugar cane, I was still chasing bugs from the last bunch.  Also walking along the road were Indian women in white dresses carrying water jugs on their heads.  These jugs were galvanized with lids and handles and much easier to carry than the clay one used in Mexico. Others carried wide woven baskets on their heads. A cloth usually covered the top of the basket and hung down the sides providing some shade.
The road was very rough, narrow and winding with lots of bridges. One bridge was over 1000 feet long. On both ends of many of the bridge were huts selling fruits and vegetables. Little girls would wave and hold up fruit for us to see. Felt bad just passing them by.
Once out of the mountains we were into flat arid land. It was very windy, enough to rock the motorhome with the gusts.
We reached the border community of El Amatillo an hour or so before closing. Drove to the immigration area and showed our tourist visas and passports and got stamped out.  Next Bill had to show the vehicle registration and permit that we got as we checked into the country.  Out came the book, this time Bill had to sign it and pay 2 Colones to get a receipt which he turned around and gave to the police to get an exit pass. Back into the motorhome and drive a few yards to the check point and turn in the exit pass.

Then over the bridge into Honduras. It cost $5 to leave El Salvador
Randy

Randy

John McClung

John McClung

Inspectors

Inspectors

Into El Salvador