I had it all planned out, as usual. Every connection I had to make to make it from Guatemala to Cancun in time for my flight, and even some leeway in the event that Latin America went all Latin America on me and one of my buses was late or didn't arrive. Things started out well with my first bus being an hour late. Then we ran into a demonstration where all the truck drivers had blocked every exit from a city, protesting the rising gas prices. We drove in maddening circles for a bit then found a super sketchy one lane gravel road that cut through some farm to get out. Arrived in San Cristobal somewhat late, but still made my connection to Palenque. Bus day 1: 630am to 11:30 pm.
Spent the next day in Palenque, and wandered around the ruins of the same name during the morning. My next bus wasn't until 10pm, so I had an afternoon to kill. So I got waxed for the first time in my life becuase a) it was absurdly cheap and b) I was absurdly hairy. Legs, pits, and bikini line. Yeeeeow!!!! $33. 3 hours. Great value, very painful.
Overnight bus to Cancun, 2 hours late. But, I made it, and here I wait until tomorrow morning when my flight leaves at 10am. I spent the afternoon doing absolutely nothing because my beach plans were foiled by clouds and spurradic rain, but I did enjoy my 2 hour nap.
It's been fun, Central America, but I'm OUT!!
Lago de Atitlan, Guatemala: Volcanoes Part II
Lago de Atitlan is a huge lake about 2 hours from Antigua, unless you choose to arrive by chicken bus (see earlier post). The best thing about this lake is that it is positively surrounded by volcanoes. There are several little villages around the lake, all are accessible by bus and by boat. After arriving in Panajachel, the most touristy of all the villages, I got a private room (woo!) with a full sized bed (woo!), took a hot shower (woo!), and took stock of my surroundings. There are a lot of handicrap stalls here. A lot. There are also a lot of travel agencies. A lot. Anyway, I took this time to plan out the rest of my trip and to buy appropriate bus tickets and such. Then I did a lot of nothing, and it was nice.
I headed over to another one of the villages, San Pedro la Laguna, the next day. While wandering around looking for some kind of lodging, I ran into Lola and James, the Aussie/Argentinian couple living in London that I went to Chichen Itza with. Weird! Went and met up with them for lunch, then booked a trip for the next morning to climb la Nariz del Indio (Indian Nose). In the picture below, the Indian's face is looking up, eyebrow is on the left hand side. See it? Maybe? Anyway, on top of his "nose" is a great place to watch the sunrise.
Unfortunately, watching a sunrise from a vista means you have to hike up while it's still dark. I hate hiking in the dark. My night balance is awful. I spend the whole time stumbling around, in a cold sweat, in near anxiety attack mode, trying to not fall off the mountain. Every time. Why did I do this again, I asked myself... And then we got to the top and I remembered:
Funny thing, about my tour. They never picked me up. I made a reservation the previous day with an agency in town to do the hike the next morning (330 am), transportation by chicken bus, since I was alone and this was the cheapest method. So I head down to the agency at 320, early, and dutifully packed like the boyscout I never was, and I waited. And I waited. And everything was quiet. Except for the stumbling drunk wandering the streets at 345 in the morning who decided I wanted to be his friend. As he stumbles past the curb I'm sitting on, he stops, and we have the following conversation in slurred, raspy spanish:
"Are you Italian?" ...Silence
"Why are you Italian?" ...Silence
"Why are you alone?" ...Silence, he comes and sits next to me, to which I reply "Don't touch me, I don't want to talk to you."
"Of course I wouldn't touch you, of course, are you Italian? I have a sore throat. Why don't you talk to me? Am I 'creepy'"?
At which point I got up and started pounding on the tour agency's door. No answer. I didn't feel threatened, he was already nearly incapacitated, I could have easily put him down. Luckily, a shuttle for the same tour from another company drove by and I hopped a ride with them. Disaster averted. I even got my money back from the delinquent agency. Somewhat annoying, but c'est la vie.
I headed over to another one of the villages, San Pedro la Laguna, the next day. While wandering around looking for some kind of lodging, I ran into Lola and James, the Aussie/Argentinian couple living in London that I went to Chichen Itza with. Weird! Went and met up with them for lunch, then booked a trip for the next morning to climb la Nariz del Indio (Indian Nose). In the picture below, the Indian's face is looking up, eyebrow is on the left hand side. See it? Maybe? Anyway, on top of his "nose" is a great place to watch the sunrise.
Unfortunately, watching a sunrise from a vista means you have to hike up while it's still dark. I hate hiking in the dark. My night balance is awful. I spend the whole time stumbling around, in a cold sweat, in near anxiety attack mode, trying to not fall off the mountain. Every time. Why did I do this again, I asked myself... And then we got to the top and I remembered:
Funny thing, about my tour. They never picked me up. I made a reservation the previous day with an agency in town to do the hike the next morning (330 am), transportation by chicken bus, since I was alone and this was the cheapest method. So I head down to the agency at 320, early, and dutifully packed like the boyscout I never was, and I waited. And I waited. And everything was quiet. Except for the stumbling drunk wandering the streets at 345 in the morning who decided I wanted to be his friend. As he stumbles past the curb I'm sitting on, he stops, and we have the following conversation in slurred, raspy spanish:"Are you Italian?" ...Silence
"Why are you Italian?" ...Silence
"Why are you alone?" ...Silence, he comes and sits next to me, to which I reply "Don't touch me, I don't want to talk to you."
"Of course I wouldn't touch you, of course, are you Italian? I have a sore throat. Why don't you talk to me? Am I 'creepy'"?
At which point I got up and started pounding on the tour agency's door. No answer. I didn't feel threatened, he was already nearly incapacitated, I could have easily put him down. Luckily, a shuttle for the same tour from another company drove by and I hopped a ride with them. Disaster averted. I even got my money back from the delinquent agency. Somewhat annoying, but c'est la vie.
Antigua, Guatemala
Antigua is a pretty town. I took one picture of it. It wasn´t even a very good picture. In fact, it's a terrible picture, Crap. But I feel obliged to post it. Anyway, here you go:
I spent one full day in Antigua. The morning was dedicated to the market, buying what my Uton dormmate friends affectionately called "goo"...all of the handicraft crap that I had been eyeing this whole time but haven't put forth the effort to buy (and then lug around). The afternoon I climbed a volcano, and this volcano broke my heart.
Before I left, I had been joking telling people that the reason I was coming on this trip was to poke some lava. The only thing is, I wasn't joking. That was pretty much my sole intention in coming back down here. A lot of my friends I met in South America had pictures of themselves and a stream of flowing lava. I need that picture. The volcano that has this phenomenal lava flow is named Pacaya. And it no longer has a lava flow. Noooooooooo!!!! It erupted last May, and apparently got all of its lava flowing tendencies out of its system. So sad... It was still pretty, the guide still set some branches on fire by placing them over a hot hot vent, and I roasted a marshmallow on the ground. But seriously? No lava???
We got stuck in a traffic jam on the way out there for about an hour. A landslide had covered the road, but crews cleared it quicker than one might think imaginable. Of course, seemingly out of no where, ice cream peddlers show up as if summoned from on high. Anyway, the hike is supposed to take an hour 45 minutes or so. We had some time to make up. We went straight up the mountain. As our guide kept yelling, "subimos la playa!!" (literally, we climb the beach!). Pretty accurate, as we ignored the switchbacked road that went up and took the small, vertical tracts of sand that cut off the switchbacks. It took us less than an hour. Sunset was beautiful. Walking down in the dark...not as beautiful.
I spent one full day in Antigua. The morning was dedicated to the market, buying what my Uton dormmate friends affectionately called "goo"...all of the handicraft crap that I had been eyeing this whole time but haven't put forth the effort to buy (and then lug around). The afternoon I climbed a volcano, and this volcano broke my heart.Before I left, I had been joking telling people that the reason I was coming on this trip was to poke some lava. The only thing is, I wasn't joking. That was pretty much my sole intention in coming back down here. A lot of my friends I met in South America had pictures of themselves and a stream of flowing lava. I need that picture. The volcano that has this phenomenal lava flow is named Pacaya. And it no longer has a lava flow. Noooooooooo!!!! It erupted last May, and apparently got all of its lava flowing tendencies out of its system. So sad... It was still pretty, the guide still set some branches on fire by placing them over a hot hot vent, and I roasted a marshmallow on the ground. But seriously? No lava???
We got stuck in a traffic jam on the way out there for about an hour. A landslide had covered the road, but crews cleared it quicker than one might think imaginable. Of course, seemingly out of no where, ice cream peddlers show up as if summoned from on high. Anyway, the hike is supposed to take an hour 45 minutes or so. We had some time to make up. We went straight up the mountain. As our guide kept yelling, "subimos la playa!!" (literally, we climb the beach!). Pretty accurate, as we ignored the switchbacked road that went up and took the small, vertical tracts of sand that cut off the switchbacks. It took us less than an hour. Sunset was beautiful. Walking down in the dark...not as beautiful.
Ode to the Chicken Bus
I could have taken the tourist shuttle direct from my hostel door in Antigua to the hostel in San Pedro. It would have cost me $6.25. Instead, I went for the Chicken Bus. There's something magical about those blinged out old school buses...the flashy painting, the names (Esmeralda, Esperanza, Carmelita), the stickers of naked women surrounding the crucifix/rosary shrine... There's just nothing like being the only white person on the bus, sitting 5 to a seat squished between a guatemalan guy, a Maya woman, and her 2 kids, and squishing even more when someone tries to pass in the aisle. One eye on your backpack, ready to take down whoever stands in your way if someone even thinks about taking it, white knuckling the seatback in front of you as the bus careens around mountainous turns at somewhere between 2x and 3x what most would consider a "safe speed". The exhilaration of flying past a cop in a no passing zone around a blind corner... The grating of gears, Guatemalan pop music on full blast, incessant honking of the air horn at apparently nothing, and the bus attendant yelling "CHICHI CHICHICHICHI!!!" at every passerby, it is all music to my ears. It only took 3.5 hours and 4 chicken buses to make it to Panajachel. No, Panajachel was not my original destination. Close enough, it will do.
So yes, I could have taken the tourist shuttle. But where's the fun in that?
Photo cred: Lonely Planet
Photo cred: Lonely PlanetLivingston, Guatemala
Livingston is a world away from the rest of Guatemala. There are no roads that lead to the city, you can only arrive by boat. The most obvious difference, though, is culture. Livingston is home of the Garifuna culture, an African/creole people similar to the culture in Belize. Apparently at some point the Latinos decided they didn't like the Garifuna, so they rounded them up and stuck them in Livingston. It's a pretty cool place, right on what little of the Caribbean coast Guatemala has.
We took a rough 4x4 truck ride for 6 hours through the mountains from Lanquin to get there. On the way, we stopped at a little place called Finca Paraiso that has a hot waterfall. If not the cleanest, it was certainly the hottest shower I've had in a long time.
Checked into a hostel called African Place that looked like a Moorish castle. For dinner, we got the local fare: seafood. Grilled shrimp, which were massive and delicious. The local specialty is a seafood soup called Tapado. It comes in a huge bowl, is frighteningly opaque and bright yellow, and has an abundance of assorted seafood lurking under the surface. I wish I had gotten a picture of all the shells we pulled out of this thing. There were crabs, snails, muscles, clams, a whole fish, shrimp, and some other unidentifiable things all swimming in a coconut and something broth. Delicious, and oh so rich. After chowing down on all that seafood (and it was a lot), it briefly crossed my stomach's mind that maybe that wasn't such a good idea...but it turned out okay.The next day we hiked up the beach to Los Siete Altares. There are supposed to be a bunch of freshwater pools with little waterfalls going into them. Since it's dry season, there were pools, but no waterfalls. Just lots of really slippery rocks. It was a nice little hike, though.
Left the next morning by boat (called lanchas) to Puerto Barrios, where we picked up a bus to Guatemala City. Parted ways with my Michigander friends Ashley and Max there. I took a taxi over to the station where the chicken buses leave from. I successfully had a 15 minutes conversation about current events with my taxi driver in spanish. I was proud of myself.
Left the next morning by boat (called lanchas) to Puerto Barrios, where we picked up a bus to Guatemala City. Parted ways with my Michigander friends Ashley and Max there. I took a taxi over to the station where the chicken buses leave from. I successfully had a 15 minutes conversation about current events with my taxi driver in spanish. I was proud of myself.Now, in Antigua. Went for an exploratory run this morning. My favorite kind...early, before the city has woken up, no speed or time goal, just meandering up one block and down the next, turning when I see something interesting. This morning I explore the city, this afternoon I climb a volcano. At least that's the plan for now...
Lanquin and Semuc Champey
The tiny town of Lanquin is set in a beautiful valley with a river flowing through it. It was several hours on a rough mountain road to get here, and several more out. The best thing about Lanquin is that it is close to the park Semuc Champey, which is supposedly the most beautiful spot in Guatemala. Not sure I'd give it that high of a rating, but maybe it was just the rain that dimmed my perception. There were 7 of us that went from the hostel in Flores to Lanquin, and we all ended up on the same tour of the park the next day.
The first part of the tour was a two hour trip through some caves. We did the whole thing by candlelight, which turned out to be really cool. The whole central part of Guatemala is made of limestone, and there are a lot of cavern systems. These ones were 11km long, and were only recently explored and mapped. After walking in through a small trickle of water, we were soon swimming through the caves and climbing up ladders, holding our candles up in one hand and awkwardly trying to breast stroke while occasionally kicking each other. We ended up climbing up waterfalls, jumping into frighteningly murky pools, and smashing our heads on the rocks multiple times (or maybe that was just me?). It was a great time, though, I really enjoyed it. 
After the caving, we set off on a surprisingly steep hike (tricky, when wearing a dress and no bathing suit underneath...) up to El Mirador, where we had a bird's eye view of the pools of Semuc Champey. We got to try a bunch of different plants along the walk, cacao, coffee, cardamon, and sugar cane. After hiking down from the view, we went for a swim in the pools. Our guide knew all the best places to slide down, dive off, and climb up. After clowning around in the water for an hour or so, we headed back to the hostel, day complete.
On somewhat of a whim, I came out to the Caribbean coast with a Michigan couple I met on the way to Lanquin. ...But that's for a later post.
The first part of the tour was a two hour trip through some caves. We did the whole thing by candlelight, which turned out to be really cool. The whole central part of Guatemala is made of limestone, and there are a lot of cavern systems. These ones were 11km long, and were only recently explored and mapped. After walking in through a small trickle of water, we were soon swimming through the caves and climbing up ladders, holding our candles up in one hand and awkwardly trying to breast stroke while occasionally kicking each other. We ended up climbing up waterfalls, jumping into frighteningly murky pools, and smashing our heads on the rocks multiple times (or maybe that was just me?). It was a great time, though, I really enjoyed it. 
After the caving, we set off on a surprisingly steep hike (tricky, when wearing a dress and no bathing suit underneath...) up to El Mirador, where we had a bird's eye view of the pools of Semuc Champey. We got to try a bunch of different plants along the walk, cacao, coffee, cardamon, and sugar cane. After hiking down from the view, we went for a swim in the pools. Our guide knew all the best places to slide down, dive off, and climb up. After clowning around in the water for an hour or so, we headed back to the hostel, day complete. 
On somewhat of a whim, I came out to the Caribbean coast with a Michigan couple I met on the way to Lanquin. ...But that's for a later post.
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