After many airline delays compliments of Continental, we managed to arrive only an hour late in Guatemala. Of course the other delays caused us to arrive sleep deprived. Immediately we went back to our house and unpacked everything. The next day we were going to hike to the top of the Pacaya Volcano. Well Tristan was going to hike, Diane and I had enough sense to ride horses to the top. The thin air did not seem to
bother Tristan and he made it to both the top and the bottom faster than the horses. 
Fortunately we had left later in the day, so we had sunny weather and good views. Coming home, Tristan was treated to our regular vegetarian dinner; black beans, fresh guacamole, homemade salsa, local farmer cheese and hot off the grill tortillas. He began to wonder how he could go back to store bought tortillas in DC
Unbeknownst to us, Christmas Eve is celebrated by fireworks, lots of fireworks in Guatlemala. We now know what it is like to live in a war zone. The fireworks continually increased, peaking at midnight. The entire city was covered in smoke that reeked of gunpowder. It was truly amazing and an experience that I do not wish to repeat. Everything tapered off by around 1 AM. No problem for us as we had a flexible schedule for the beginning of our trip to Antigua tomorrow.
We got up at a reasonable time and had Christmas Tamales, compliments of Paoula and Eddie, friends from Guatemala, who picked us up at the airport. They are really quite tasty and I will have to learn how to make them. We packed leisurely, swapped cars with the elementary principal and got ready to leave. Our little Hyundai Getz seemed a little cramped for the big trip around Guatemala. The ride to Antigua was devoid of traffic, something unheard of. Along the way, I asked Diane and Tristan, did you remember the camera? Apparently not, but with phones that take pictures, we decided to continue on, even though Antigua can be less than an hour from our house. We wanted to spend the night in Antigua in order to have Christmas dinner at Hector’s, an excellent restaurant that Diane and I discovered for our anniversary dinner. When we were there a few weeks ago we checked to be sure that they were open on Christmas day and the waitress assured us that they are open every day during the year. As the responsible tour guide, I had made hotel reservations for the bulk of our trip. I even printed out the confirmation emails.
Unfortunately the reservatations did not have the address for our first location. I thought I remembered that it was on Calle 3 west, so went and looked. It took us close to Hectors, so we decided to see how crowded Hectors would be, since Hectors seats maybe dozen people at 4 tables and the bar. As we passed the restaurant we see a sign on the window wishing us a Merry Christmas and they would reopen the next day. We were not happy, but we continued to look for the hotel. We asked many policemen, the tourist places and the like, all to no avail.
Finally we sent Tristan into an internet café to find the address. He comes back and tells us it is on Avenida 6a numero 4. We drive around and finally find the address. It is a building that is locked up without any sign that it was a hotel. Okay, screw that, we can wander Antigua and go home as it is only 45 minutes away. We spend some time wandering around the mostly closed Antigua. We look for a place for almuerzo (lunch), but we are not successful. I suggest that we go to the mirador on our way back home. Diane states that perhaps it is closed. Now the mirador consists of many little restaruants serving mostly sausages, so I say there must be at least one that is open. We reach the mirador and it is in full operation, we have the chorizo almuerzo (about 2 and half dollars) and continue home. We are laughing at the inauspicious start of our holiday. No Hectors, no camera, no hotel… We decide to stop and get supplies to cook dinner at home. Not exactly Hectors, but we do okay. As we are waiting for the quinoa to cook, I look up the website so I can complain about the hotel that is not there. Unfortunately the address that is listed is not the same as the address Tristan gave us. Tristan does not believe it and searches for the website that gave him the address. Mr. Computer fails to locate the website and tries to tell us how it was there when he looked in Antigua. None of us believe that. Well now we are having some nice steak for dinner, we have the camera for the rest of the trip and the adventure will continue tomorrow.
The next morning we are up early and off to Lake Atitlan with a stop in Pastores to buy boots. We now have a regular boot dealer in Pastores and Tristan availed himself of the good prices After the purchase of 5 pairs for Tristan and his friends, we were off to Lake Atitalan. a collapsed caldera surrounded by mountains and volcanoes. We check to see that we have the camera and we head off on our one thousand mile loop around Guatemala. Halfway to the lake there is a “famous” restaurant that people stop at. We decide to stop and see what it is all about. Well we don’t eat there, but what it is all about is smoked meat and sausage. So we pick up some sausage and a hunk of smoked ham for the remaining ride to the lake. The sausage was fine, but the ham was, shall we say, chewy. For the rest of the day the I was reminded of that smoked ham, repeatedly and I do mean repeatedly.
With little difficulty we find our hotel. It is a bit outside the town, so there is a twenty minute walk into Panaychel (Pana) or a 60 cent/pp tuk tuk ride. Our hotel is very clean and run by a Japanese family. So there is a sushi restaurant there. We walk into town and all around, making arrangements for a boat tour of 6 villages the next day. The “shill’ wants us to leave a deposit, but I tell him my word is our deposit. He agrees. We have a mediocre meal at one of the lakeside restaurants and walk back to our hotel. Fortunately they have a fast wireless connection and the electronic Cohen’s go about their anti-social routine of individually watching different things on their devices.
The next day we walk into town and stop at a local place for desayuno (breakfast). As you probably know Guatemala is famous for coffee. We have sampled many varieties and have not been disappointed. However the restaurant managed to disappoint us, when they served instant. I mean come on, this is Guatemala. We are at our meeting spot at the correct time, but Pedro, the shill, is not there. We chat with his competition who offers us a better price for a different boat. Tristan berates my bargaining skills. At 0830 Pedro arrives and tells us he was waiting for us up the hill. I tell him of the better price, but he tells me we can take it if we want, but his price was the best he could do. Inasmuch as my word is my bond, we go with Pedro’s boat. Tristan is in awe of the beauty of the place. It is high praise from the guy who rarely gives more than an okay to any location.
Our first town is one the hippie villages. We walk around and see plenty of advertisements for new world workshops and the like. Other than that there is not a lot to see, but we manage to find a coffee shop that has real coffee and we enjoy a cup. We return to the boat for village #2. This village is famous for their paintings. There are some distinct art forms in Guatemala, and after looking around and negotiating we added two more pieces to our art collection. The next village was San Pedro, a village made famous by the Israelis who go there for the availability of marijuana. The location of the village and the availability of adventure tourism make it a good tourist location. You see more signs in English here, then any other place in Guatemala. There are also plenty of signs in Hebrew, so this town must be part of the South/Central American tour that many young Israelis take when they finish their mandatory military service. There was nothing to amuse us here, so we returned to the boat and off to village number 4…Santiago. Santiago is the most famous artesian village on the lake. They have everything but they are particularly famous for the weavings and a few painters who do some different kinds of art. We had been here before, but it was new for Tristan. As usual we walked the streets, said “no gracias” more times than I can count and visited some of the more special shops. We stopped for lunch and had the 3 tacos for 15 Q (about 2 dollars) special. On our way back down the hill Tristan returned to the one shop that a family of artists had. The work by the father is particularly interesting, as he takes the traditional artwork and twists it. After finding out that he could not afford the water colors, Tristan bought one of the “twisted” abstract pieces. We returned to the boat with our prize and went to the next two villages, which had little to offer, though one of them was the pottery village. We return to Pana and a the walk to our Hotel, where we had a Japanese dinner.
We had another day in Pana and decided to return to San Pedro to go horseback riding.
The three hour ride through town on the lake shore and to the base of the volcano was enjoyable. Javier our guide explained that San Pedro became the marijuana center of the Lake, not because it was cultivated there, it’s not, but because of the aforementioned advertising by the Israeli travelers. After the ride it was time for some cold beers on the lakeshore, while waiting for our launch for the ride back. For whatever reason, our launch left us at the other public dock, even further away from our hotel. We tried a short cut across a pedestrian bridge I had seen, but we ended up crossing a ladder bridge and scaling up the river bank. Of course our shortcut ended up taking a longer route, but we managed the longer walk in spite of our saddle sore legs. For dinner wet decided to take the tuk tuk into town. We spent another half hour looking for a restaurant, finally settling on the place where we had breakfast. However the advertised specials were not in view and as we were talking about leaving, a special menu economico magically appeared. The whole fish was, par for the course for this trip, distinctly average.
Our next stop was the biggest market in Guatemala, Chichicastenango. The market only happens on Thursdays and Sundays and it was the one place that we did not have a place to stay. We left early from Pana and drove the hour or so to Chichi. It was here that the Garmin GPS began to have problems with Guatemala. The map I have for central America is one that I downloaded for free and installed. It has worked fine until this trip. For some reason the GPS seems to periodically get lost. It wants you make U-turns and go back where you came from. Fortunately we had some idea of where we were going so it was not a big deal. The market in Chichi is indeed a sight and covers a good portion of the town. There are different sections for different things from live animals to flowers to the traditional Guatemalan crafts. We soon found out that the great bargains that are alleged require a degree of bargaining skill, as the gringo price is not even close to the Guatemalan price. Fortunately I was up for the job, in spite of Tristan’s prior criticism; he was more than happy to have his father bargain for him. A half a day in the market was plenty and we decided to begin our trip to Semuc Champey a day early.
We figured we would drive from Chichi to Coban and spend the night. In spite of the Garmins apprehensions, we managed to get on the right road. The initial part of the ride was just the usual Guatemalan scenery, kind of breathtaking. However it seems that Thursdays are market days in every little town in Guatemala and the markets are in the middle of the town closing off the main thoroughfare, making it a bit trying to find your way out, especially when the Garmin keeps telling me to turn the wrong way down one way streets.
After a stop for lunch at a small almeruzo place, things started to get interesting. Apparently to go from Chichi to Coban you have to pass over a series of 4 mountain passes. Now we are not talking about Vermont mountain passes, but more like those in the Rockies. If you have ever been over Ophir pass, you have an idea of what I am talking about. This would be world class motorcycle riding; Tight turns, fairly good pavement and great scenery. Of course, my family who likes to read was discovering the joys of car sickness.
Tristan was thinking we should start the Tour de Guatemala here. But alas there is a problem, Guatemalan’s love to put in “tumulos”. These are Guatemalan speed bumps, except for the fact that they are basically curbs with slightly rounded edges. To add to the thrill, many are not marked and when you hit them at any speed you know it. There was a lot of “I’m sorry” being spoken. Up and down, up and down and up and down some more. Three thrilling mountain passes and Tristan asks, do you think you would ever come back here? I tell him sure, maybe on the motorcycle. A short time later we reach a left hand turn and cross a bridge, the road become crumbling pavement that becomes poor gravel. If you think of our driveway in Vermont at its worst, it was a super highway compared to this. We are happy we took the school SUV instead of our usual roller skate Hyundi Getz. The road reaches the point of ridiculousness, but we have no choice but to carry on. We come to a point where in the middle of the road some kids are playing soccer and they tell us the road is closed and we have to go in a different direction. We look where they want to send us and think that it cannot be right. Remember my comment about traveling this way again on a motorcycle… forget it. We soon come to a gate and find that there is a private road that will take us through.
We have to pay a 60 cent toll and we head down a path that seemed like it was recently bulldozed… one time, one pass. We are thinking that this cannot be right, but soon see other vehicles coming from the other side. They tell us that this is indeed the correct road. On…On… at the other end of the road is another toll. I tell the girl that we paid once and shouldn’t have to pay again. She tells me that this half of the road has a different owner. I fork over another 5Q, about 60 cents. We return to the regular road which has improved to just terrible, but we begin to pass through some villages. Eventually we even reach a town that is paved…hallelujah! Of course the Garmin has been telling us to return to the highlighted route, which no longer exists. Then it tells us to make more turns in the wrong direction down one way streets, the wrong way. It is now dark and we have made it to Coban, a fairly large town/city in Guatemala. You would figure that there would be plenty of hotels that were easy to find… Nope.. First place was too scary to look into. Second place they take me down to the basement to a room that smells like it has been chlorinated from a recent murder. So we decide to head a bit back out of town and ultimately stay at de mi abuela (of my grandmother), basic rooms with a restaurant that served local food. They had good hot water and the dinner was, you guessed it, mediocre. No internet, so Diane and I watched a movie on the computer prior to going to bed. Tomorrow we would be off to Languin.
Once again relying on the Garmin we head off to Languin. A few kilometers out of town the Garmin tells us to turn right, but the road really looks horrible and we are quite far from Languin. I ask the first the person to come by if this is the correct route to Languin. He tells us yes, so we continue on. Okay, the road really sucks and I know my friends who have come here before did not mention this long of a trip on such a shitty road. The GPS has a ray of hope as it says there is a turn 12kms away. Up the mountain and then down and then out onto pavement. We are all relieved. Another wonderful drive through great scenery until the pavement ends and the road to Languin begins. The road is only terrible but its terribleness is enhanced by the slow moving VW SUV in front of us. The driver seemed to be oblivious to the fact that on road that had little or no traffic he had 5 cars backed up behind him. The road is so narrow and the fact that the driver of the VW stays towards the center, makes it impossible to pass. Halfway down the road we are stopped by some road workers who want a 20Q “donation” to travel the rest of the way. We declined and kept on moving. Fifty minutes after we started down the road, we arrive at our destination, the El Retiro’ Lodge on the river in Languin.
Semuc Champay is a National Park here in Guatemala; it is a mere 10 or kilometers down the road from Languin.
We were going to head down to Semuc Champay the next day, so today was spent tubing down the river during the afternoon and then in the evening, a visit to the bat cave. The tubing trip was enjoyable as the temperatures of both the air and water were just right. Then in the even ing, it was off to the bat cave. The Lanquin river emerges strongly from just beneath the entrance to the cave This was the same river we tubed on. We entered the cave that was lit with a string of incandescent bulbs. Immediately you begin to feel the oppressive humidity and a cave floor buttered with bat guano.
Our tour guide points out different features that are named after something that they vaguely resemble. Our tour guide took us on a special path, beyond the lights and around the slimy rocks. Both Diane and I hoped to make the path unscathed. We did. My shirt became bathed in sweat and we made it back to the entrance, for what we thought would be the best part of the trip. At the end of the day they turn off the incandescent bulbs to stimulate the exit of the bats. As we waited for the last tourists, we discovered that not everyone shared our enthusiasm for the exit of the bats. All of the other tour groups opted out of waiting. Ten minutes tuned into 30 as we waited for the last group. Apparently the last group had a person who had to stop and take a picture every other step. During the alternate steps he had to rest. When they finally arrived at the exit, they too opted out of the bat exodus. Finally the lights were put out and the thousands of bats began to exit. The best part was when people took flash pictures and the bats were frozen in place. It was like being in a Halloween movie. The waiting was ultimately worthwhile and we returned to El Retiro in time for dinner. The food at El Retiro is fine and reasonably priced. They cater to vegetarians with a meat option for an additional dollar and a quarter. So there is plenty of veggies, potatoes and the like and, usually, a piece of chicken. The next day Tristan was going to Semuc Champay, Diane and I weren’t so sure after hearing stories of slippery ladders and the like.
The weather was not perfect, but Tristan decided to go. At the last minute we decided to go on the truck and look at the area. A bumpy ten kilometers later we arrive at the park. Interestingly enough, we actually see a billboard advertising the place we had stayed in in Coban. We begin to understand why the place was not fully occupied. Tristan and the rest of the youths go off to swim through caves holding a candle. They also get to dive through a hole in the cave floor into a pool of water, after climbing on those aforementioned slick ladders. Then there was tubing down the river, jumping off the bridge, hiking to the mirador and bathing in the pools. Diane and I had decided to walk up to the mirador, but after a short time Diane felt that the slippery steps were too dangerous, so we decided to hike around the pools. The river roars down and underneath some rocks where it eventually exits in a calmer demeanor.
We enjoyed our walk around, but it would be hours until the truck returns to pick up the others. So we decide to start walking, figuring we could always stop at one of the hotels for a beer and/or lunch. We walk for a bit and then wait. No vehicles come in our direction and Diane begins to wonder. It is a 10km up and down walk back to the lodge. After a while a pickup truck comes by and I ask if he can provide us with a ride back to Languin. He says sure and we jump into the back of the pickup truck. I have to admit that the ride is not exactly comfortable, but we make it to the village and I tap on the roof, saying thanks. I offer money, but the driver declines. As soon as we jump out, about ten others jump in. We walk back to the lodge and wait for Tristan’s return. As Diane and I are reading our books, Tristan returns. We ask Mr. Nonchalant how was the trip. Words come out of his mouth we had never heard before… “It was great!” It is New Year’s Eve, we have dinner at the lodge and Tristan hooks up with some of his fellow spelunkers heading out to a local bar for a more active celebration then we had in mind. The next morning we would be off to Tikal.
