No chicken bus experience beats what Guatemala will get you. I’ve never seen the back door of a school bus used so much. It’s often slamming simultaneously with the front door. The money collector would hang out of the vehicle holding onto the ladder in the back as we tore through mountain highways. In the rain. Suddenly he’d be at the front screaming the destinations for potential passengers. People, myself included, scrambled towards the vehicles from all directions. Some had huge luggage they threw onto the roof. Others would only appear for a few seconds trying to sell fries or papaya or ice cream.

 

 

Note that the less decked out more American-yellow busses, not shown in this post, stop wayy more frequently and offer cheaper rides.

 

 

The insides were sturdy with the tiniest walkway to squeeze through. Everyone invariably smushes three to a seat. Bags may fall from overhead and smack you in the face. Ask again and again where you need to get off. Keep a jacket handy in case those windows are down and hold on tight!