I was fortunate to be with Steve and Pat on the day when Roy brought them to Coetzala. I was a slacker and didn’t take nearly as many photos as Steve, the Genuine Tourist, but here are a few.

This is the same suspension bridge as the one Steve posted. I’m on the opposite side of the river from the town, where the road dead ends. This bridge is the one and only way into this community.

From the village side of the river, a view of the road’s end, where all vehicular traffic gets left behind.

I’m normally rather shy about taking photos of people. I’m always afraid of offending. But I enjoy Steve’s people pictures so much, hanging around him encouraged me to try to get over that a little.

Even though they are isolated, the people of Coetzala do have electricity and running water in their homes. Here you can see the electric lines and a tinaco.

A shed or possibly a barn, built the old fashioned way.

Roy started chatting with this woman and found out she is preparing to make a salad from this spiny cactus.

It is apparently a traditional salad that is eaten during Lent. I saw a number of this type of cactus plant growing in people’s yards.

The tireless Genuine Tourist, hard at work, performing community outreach.

The hills were alive, not so much with the sound of music but rather the braying of burros.

No worries! Not dead, Perrito is snoozing on the street where there is never any traffic. In the background, the salad cactus.

Everything that comes into Coetzala comes over that one suspension bridge on the back of man or beast: every sack of cement, every cinderblock, everything. I did see some road apples on the bridge, so burros apparently traverse the span as well as pedestrians and bicyclists. (For those of you who didn’t grow up with horses, “road apples” are. . . burro byproducts.) This man is cheerfully carrying a sack of cement to a construction site.

The people of Coetzala were very nice and seemed curious about us. They didn’t seem to mind that we were being typical tourists and taking pictures of everything. I get a return wave from a friendly resident.

Pat and I had a personal chaperone while we were walking through Coetzala.

A friendly family allowed me to take their picture.
It may be small, but there’s one bar/restaurant in town, right next to the suspension bridge.

Scratched into the concrete on the village side at the base of the suspension cable anchor, the commemorative bridge reconstruction plaque.

Coetzala’s “Golden Gate” Bridge.