Overlooking Lake Atitlan, Guatemala.
WORDS & PHOTOS BY JESSICA FOUST
Last summer, due to political events in the States, I started asking my husband, Gareth, if we could “disappear for a while.” When we were first married in Fall 2021, we had committed to try to live in such a way that we could travel and experience life in other parts of the world.
Simultaneously, one of my bigger “ends-in-a-zero” birthdays was approaching, and I really wanted to mark it with accomplishing a life goal or two. We were already on mid-career work sabbaticals (I’m a file clerk and librarian, and Gareth’s worked as an electric station operator), so this seemed the perfect time to do some living abroad.
Gareth started doing the math for living in multiple countries for extended periods of time. He discovered that long-term rentals offer exceptional discounts. We did the math for one particular European location and discovered we’d save hundreds of dollars by renting for a month instead of three weeks.
We began to research countries where we could easily stay for a month without acquiring visas. Language was a consideration too. While most people in the service industries speak some English in busy, touristy areas, we’d been independently studying Spanish (Gareth) and French (me) and wanted to travel where we could practice.
With these factors in mind, we narrowed our list to Central America, the European continent, and a few territories. We got prescriptions filled in advance with the blessing of a doctor. We discovered the primary lodging service we’d use includes travel insurance. (Auto insurance wouldn’t be a reoccurring concern, since we intended to rent a car in only one country for a limited amount of time.) We packed as light as possible, leaving 99 percent of our possessions in a small storage unit in Louisiana. We took four to five changes of clothing each, knowing we could and would purchase more as we went along.
And so our country list solidified. We planned a route through six to eight nations in about 10 months, beginning in the winter near the Equator and traveling to cooler places as the weather became warmer. We left Louisiana in February, headed for Guatemala.
GUATEMALA
Over five years ago, Gareth and I took a cruise through the Panama Canal and earmarked specific places we wanted to return to—one of those being Antigua, Guatemala. Antigua is a popular tourist destination, its Old City being a UNESCO World Heritage site. The city of 25,000, surrounded by gorgeous volcanic mountains, sits a few hours’ drive from Lake Atitlan, the deepest lake in Central America and a little world unto itself.
Living in a location for a month obviously meant we had to do our own grocery shopping, buy basic necessities, and navigate through Antigua. Without a car we became more acquainted with side streets and locations off the beaten path. Because of its unique UNESCO classification, there are a lot of streets which tourists don’t often traverse. We tried to just walk the city and markets as locals do.
We did take a few trips outside Antigua proper, including a tour of the Mayan ruins of Iximche and a guided chicken bus ride to an organic wine tasting and chocolate demonstration. Chicken buses, which are repurposed American school buses painted vibrant colors, are the primary means of transportation for the local population—and definitely an experience. I don’t think my tailbone will ever be quite the same. Caution is advised, though, because the buses can become over-filled with passengers and fall off the main roads, causing fatalities.
Guatemala is known for producing 12,500 metric tons of cacao annually, which makes it one of the main chocolate-producing countries in the world. Intrigued by the chocolate demonstration outside of Antigua, I later took a class that guided us through harvesting and the various stages of processing the cacao bean, as well as an explanation of how the Maya used chocolate in their rituals and traditions.
Guatemala is still home to 22 distinct Maya people groups distinguished by their languages and cultural practices. One of the greatest parts of Antigua’s giant outdoor market was walking around, listening to the stand owners speak to each other and seeing the various people groups selling their uniquely handmade items or fresh fruits and vegetables.
Adventures abounded. We took a local salsa class. We chose a guided volcano hike (I opted to ride a horse up instead of walking), where at the top we roasted/melted marshmallows in the sulfur fumes. We spent a couple nights on the volcanic Lake Atitlan, which is surrounded by little villages, each with its own culture, history, and vibes. We even found the local Irish pub and made friends with a number of international tourists and many expats, exchanging numbers with someone we hope to meet up with again in the UK.
View of the Pacaya Volcano in Guatemala.
MARTINIQUE
After Guatemala, we embarked into a very unknown world for both of us—the French Caribbean Territory of Martinique, located just northeast of Venezuela. We chose this location because the ocean is one of my first loves and because I wanted a chance to practice speaking French. Unfortunately, the Caribbean accent made it extra hard for me to understand the language and become more fluent in it. The few times we ran into French tourists, however, I did find it much easier to keep track of the conversation.
Martinique surprised us in several ways, not the least of which—to my unending delight—were all the cats. Apparently “Cats of the Caribbean” is a thing. Cats were introduced to the islands at various times, and without any real predators and a steady supply of birds and fish, they’ve taken to making it their home. Felines wander all over the islands, even walking through beach dining experiences. I shared our last oceanside meal with several furry friends that were cared for by the local community.
Politics on the island definitely gave us pause (in a couple of cases, quite literally). We learned of several ongoing strikes disrupting the public transport system, both by bus and water taxi. Eventually, we began to understand that strikes and public transportation closures are very normal for Martinique. Strikers primarily protest low wages, the cost of living, and racial prejudices. Systemic racism is very real, and the inhabitants of Martinique have actively marched through the streets, pulling down statues of white supremacists and protesting so violently that marchers closed down the airport in October 2024.
Martinique is still very much fighting for equality with the mainland of France. Gareth and I didn’t realize how much higher their living costs were until we reached Europe and experienced reverse sticker shock. Something as simple as a bottle of carbonated water cost nearly double the price in Martinique.
Politics aside, Martinique surprised me with its delightful, breathtaking jungle flora and fauna. Our lodging was just off a small beach, and I routinely walked through the housing complex, greeting the residential cats and viewing the glorious sunsets. I loved wading in a slice of paradise or sitting under the palm trees, sipping iced tea while listening to the gentle lapping of the waves.
One of our favorite excursions was visiting Jardin de Balata, Martinique’s botanical garden, a 30-minute bus ride from the capital of Fort-de-France. My jaw literally kept dropping at every turn, seeing the flowers, the trees, and the ocean views.
Another surprise was the food. Martinique is a unique foodie paradise combining island culinary delights with French cuisine. I had the best brie and roast duck of my life, and Gareth loved the burgers made from scratch. As in mainland France, the islanders give great attention to their food presentation and flavor profiles, and their hard work absolutely shows. From the bartenders perfectly mixing drinks to chefs elaborately designing plates—every dish seemed to be a labor of love and pride in their handiwork.
Of course, no journey is complete without one near-catastrophic mishap. Ours happened on Martinique. We went up to the zoo and then decided to explore the little town just over the hill. Though Gareth was tracking the bus schedules, Google apparently lied this time, and we ended up missing the last bus. We were an hour-and-a-half away from our lodgings, the local hotel wasn’t open that night, and we couldn’t find an operating taxi anywhere.
Visiting Jardin de Balata, Martinique’s botanical garden.
Between Google Translate and my broken French, we managed to confirm where the bus station was, but upon arriving it was absolutely closed. Not sure what else to do, we wandered back to the bar, informing locals we were stranded and asking for assistance in calling a taxi or locating an alternative hotel.
No solutions. We began to think we’d have to spend the night on the beach. Then, through a combination of broken French, English, and Google Translate, one of the gentlemen, a prison security guard, offered us a ride. He actually lived in the capital, he said, and would be going right by our place. As a thank-you, Gareth willingly bought drinks for the entire bar. After they finished watching the football match, the security guard drove us back. We were rescued by the kindness of a stranger—and by our willingness to buy a round for all the helpful hosts.
Since our weeks in Guatemala and Martinique, we have stayed in Florence, Italy, and Stuttgart, Germany. Now, in July, we’re on a three-month stay around the UK before returning to the continent and the Schengen Area. I don’t know exactly where or when this journey will end, but I feel privileged to be on it and sharing it with my fellow adventure-loving husband.
A beach on Martinique.
Jessica Foust was born and raised in Montana but spent most of her adult life in California, where after undergrad she worked as a law clerk and library supervisor. While there she also met her husband, Gareth. They decided to travel the world together to meet new people, make new friends, and have as many adventures as possible. Before living abroad, they spent two years in Louisiana, eating amazing food, reconnecting with old friends, and experiencing a unique part of American culture and history. Follow the Foust's adventures on their Substack.