Well where do I begin. It has been a while since I´
ve written anything and
alot has been accomplished to I
appolagize if I leave
alot of fine details out and just summarize the last month.
Last time I wrote I was just about to climb
Volcan Pacaya. Well that climb was absolutely wicked. Many of the people I travel with or meet along the way plan on climbing
alot or not at all. I am one of those not at all but every once in a while you need to stay in the
circet. By the time we made the
summit the sun was just about to go down and most of the groups were ready to head down. Thinking in advance Jason and I brought up
Smore mix and roasted them in the lava. There
wasn´t
alot of lava at first but as soon as 90% of the people had begun heading down all of the sudden the lava shot out on either side of me. The whole
volcano face started to flow and I was caught dead in the middle of it. At first I was just standing watching the
mesmerizing lava on either side of me but as soon as the ground below me started to turn red and my feet grow hotter I thought it best to high-tail it out of there. The joke for us westerners was just how unbelievably liable these guides were and how something like this would never fly in the N.A.
The next day after meeting up with Tune and A.K. (2
Norweigan girls from
Utila) we headed to
Lago Atitlan and over to San Pedro la
Laguna. The
micro bus there turned out to be one of the most beautiful 2 hours ever spent in an automobile. We seemed to have passed and gone through every known terrain and scenery available to man minus snow. It started in vineyards and corn fields through rolling hills and then to the most curvy road
imaginable to man down into gorges and ravines. Past waterfalls and across rivers we went until the sights of multiple volcanoes and an
immaculate lake came into view.
San Pedro la
Laguna seemed to be the
hippy capital of the world and every person on the street was trying to unload their ¨space cookies.¨ What even makes that point of
hippy capital concrete is that the $2 a night place we were staying was full of the street
hippys who make jewelery to get by and a couple who legally grows marijuana for the government in California. Also at our dirt floor hostel was a guy from Niagara Falls, the American side. We stayed at the Lake for 3 nights have a daily ritual of just finding a rock by the water and sitting with your book in hand. The lake is known as a yoga and
meditation retreat because of how `
tranquillo´ it is. One day we ventured over to nearby Santiago, a local village just inside a nearby cove. With a big market we were kept busy for a while but eventually made our way over to the Mayan God. His name is
Maximon and by worshipping him you bring him cigarettes and alcohol. The god moves every year to one of the elders houses where it remains. As soon as we walked in passed the 42
cases of empty fire water that the locals get drunk off we found 4 people passed out face down and one man
arguing with a candle. We put a cigarette in
Maximon´s mouth lit it and took our leave with good karma.
The next day Jason from Niagara Falls, team Norway, and myself headed to
Chicicastenago to get a bed before the Sunday market the next day. The first night we ended up in some weird situations first being in the middle of a religious parade of just monks who brought us to the ¨as lonely planet says... forbidden cemetery¨ because it is so dangerous. I can tell you one thing, Jason and I had the weirdest dreams that night. Wow!
Following morning we were woken up by fireworks at 5am to the sound of the market. We´d already
sussed out some things the prior day and got prices and some things so every time we would pass something we had interest in we´d hear the price going lower and lower. Our first purchase came a couple hours into the market and I got a mask for 90Q ($12) which started at 600Q. I put this mask at being $100 in Canada. I
didn´t end up buying a whole lot but got a sweater for myself and something for my sister. By days end the
Norweigans parted ways to go to
Xela for Spanish lessons and Jason and I stayed that night celebrating surviving the market in our new Guatemalan sweatshirts, a 40 of Gallo beer in hand, and a couple of 12 cent cigars on the rooftop of our hostel.
Jason left the next day to Guatemala city for his flight home and I was off in chicken buses to
Coban. After a day of travelling and several chicken buses I found myself 2 hours shy of
Coban stuck between
Uspantan and San Cristobal, two towns of nothing. The bus dropped me off and I came across a road that
wasn´t there. Apparently there had been a mudslide and the entire town along with the road was
buried alive. I was witnessed to people sitting on the side of the road while the rest of their family was 20 feet underground. An entire town in ruins. I was set on making
Coban by nightfall so I got ready for the long hike around when a local elder ran up to me and was pleading with me in Spanish not to go. A girl from the Peace Corps came over and told me that because
no one has anything the likes of me getting mugged are very high. She along with many of the elders offered me their couch for the night but I talked my way into the back of a
CONRED truck. They were a cleanup/anti-disaster crew and I hopped in for the ride around. It seems the walk would have been impossible as the ride took 3 hours through a mountain with no road. At some points we were literally following behind a bulldozer clearing a path with us. Here is where I
truly saw the
indigenous Guatemala. The houses were solely made of mud and twigs and full clothing was scarce on anyone.
Upon finally reaching San Cristobal I hopped in a
micro bus which was full of
Mormons. Talking with them for a short while turned out to be alright because they paid for my ride. Every once in a while they would say something like, ¨so do you know all about out message and what we do?¨ I would just answer something like, ¨
ohh yeah all of my friends are
Mormons and they´
ve all given me
thorough information,¨ and then we´d head back to a topic I could handle.
When riding into
Coban I saw a
McDonald's and automatically cringed. I should not be here with that monster lurking around. The monster being the American influence which I came all the way out here to try and avoid. I found a cheap hostel for the night and the next day headed to
Semuc Champey.
Semuc Champey is a beautiful series of small ponds and pools on a natural land bridge that crosses the
Cahabon River. It is located in the Municipality of
Lanquin, Alta
Verapaz. In the Mayan
Kekchi language,
Semuc Champey means Sacred Water. The
Cahabon River submerges itself at the entrance of
Semuc Champey and resurfaces about 400 meters later after it passes this natural limestone bridge suspended with beautiful crystal clear ponds. Beautiful indeed. This turned out to be one of the most beautiful spots I´d ever been to. Maybe in part because I´m in somewhat of a withdrawal from not been swimming in so long yet so close to the oceans. The only bad part was all of the people I met, mainly girls as there were about 60 girls and 5 guys including myself there, were all staying in
Lanquin, the closer town. Yet here I was stuck in
shithole Coban and by this time
I'm sure the hostel had already booked me in for another night.
Anyways I toughed out that night in
Coban and caught the first chicken bus at 6am. The next destination was the island of Flores, famous as the stopping point to head to the
Tikal ruins. After another 10 hours of travelling with multiple chicken buses, water taxis, and
tuk-
tuks, I made it. My home for the next two night would be Los Amigos. A hostel comparable to the funkiness of
Mondo Taitu in
Bocas Del
Toro, Panama. No more than 20 minutes of being there who walks in the door; Cameron
Bradley. A local of Niagara-on-the-Lake who I´
ve known since I was 3 years old as he grew up with my sister. What a small world it
truly is! Along with Cam came an entourage that formed in Caye Caulker, Belize with him. Formed of Vancouver natives and people from all over Europe, we had a good crew who is going to be meeting me in Antigua later today.
I woke up at 4:30am to catch the first bus to
Tikal the next day to avoid all of the Gringos that show up around 10am. It certainly makes for
alot nicer photos as people are scarce in all of mine.
Tikal really was a hike though. Over 2 hours it took to walk around the park and see most of the ruins. Short of
Machu Pichhu I don´t have
alot of need to go visit many more ruins as
Tikal set the bar and I´d been to
Copan ruins in Honduras only 3 weeks earlier.
Catching the bus at 12:30 back to Flores I left shortly after returning with a 5 from the crew to a nearby bat cave which only cost $2. We got lost in there for a while and after going through the area marked by many wood signs, ¨danger,¨we found the breeding ground for these little monsters. After returning back back to Flores I through on my bathing suit and had to go for a swim in the lake before my time was up in Flores.
Los Amigos emptied the next day with the crew going to
Semuc and myself heading to Guatemala City on a 10 hour chicken bus.
Ughh! Now I find myself back in Antigua where I´m going to book my bus ticket down to San Jose to hit up 1 spot there and then 1 spot in Panama and then my week long sailboat through the untouched San
Blas Island and into Colombia. Oh and almost forgot.
Last night I went with a local I met last time in Antigua and two Australian girls to the local football (soccer) match. Sitting in the middle of supporters section I am now fluent in Spanish swear-words. Antigua won 3-0 and the stretcher was brought onto the field 9 times. Latin America Football! Good month in Guatemala.
Definitely the most to offer for the best prices in Central America.
Peacee!
Pictures:
Lago Atitlan
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=7530&l=a39ab&id=1650960019Chichicastenago
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=7623&l=dc864&id=1650960019Semuc Champey
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=7728&l=cbe82&id=1650960019Tikal
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=7733&l=d9ff1&id=1650960019