A week of travel in Guatemala
Last week I headed off for a week of traveling with a friend I met in Xela, a young woman who usually claimed to be from Chicago, even though she had only lived there for a week before her trip to Xela. On Friday afternoon after class, we hopped on a chicken bus bound for Panajachel, which is a very touristy town on beautiful Lago Atitlan. I've been told by Guatemalans that they call it either Gringolandia or Gringotenango ("place of the gringos", -tenango is a common ending for town names around here), and it was certainly true. But largely a different type of gringo than I was used to seeing in Xela (AKA Quetzaltenango), where they tend to be younger, either studying Spanish and/or volunteering. In Pana, the median age (and income level) seemed significantly higher, and the town definitely catered to that class of tourist.
We only spent the night there, then headed across the lake by lancha to San Pedro, which seemed just as touristy, but targeted to a different variety -- namely younger backpackers. Everything was quite cheap, and there was a variety of foreign and ethnic restaurants to choose from. We rented bikes for a couple of hours (about $1/hour, although I really missed MY bike, since the rental was pretty crappy and WAY too small for me) for a short ride out to San Juan, where we didn't see any other gringos, although we did check out a couple of art galleries and weaving shops.
I got a bit lost in the maze of streets on the way back in to town (actually something I often strive to do when exploring someplace new), and we ended up on the far side of town, making our way back to the hotel via a network of narrow dirt paths and alleyways, along which were various interesting restaurants and bars.
After lunching in one of those restaurants on some curries (where some of the other patrons nonchalantly started smoking a joint midway through our meal), we eventually ended up renting kayaks (about $1.30/hr) to relax out on the lake, admiring the views of the surrounding volcanic peaks and the sunset. Later, we headed out for dinner and some drinks, and ended up at an outside bar where a good live band was playing.
The next morning, we hopped on a lancha to Pana, then a chicken bus to Guate (Guatemala City), then a taxi to another bus station, where we had lunch in a comedor before hopping on a first-class bus to Rio Dulce. This bus was quite a change from the chicken buses, with assigned seating, air-conditioning, and films, even if the films were some of the worst I've ever had to endure. Really awful american horror movies that I'd never even heard of. In Rio Dulce, we hopped on a lancha to the hacienda where we were staying, across the bay. It was a pretty nice place, but quite expensive by Guatemalan standards (about $12/person with shared bathroom). There was a swimming pool though, which I took advantage of, since it was quite a bit warmer there in the lowlands than it had been in Xela.
The next morning, we walked into town, and pondered our options for getting out to Finca el Paraíso where there were hotsprings. There was a bus, but it apparently didn't run all that often, and there were also the small collectivo picops (pickups), which cram a bunch of people into the bed, an alternative to the buses. We ran into a group of 6 other travelers, 5 Israelis and a young Dutch woman, and we decided to bargain for a pickup, which was both amusing and frustrating, since different members of the group were bargaining with different drivers. In the end, we agreed to pay 100 quetzales (about $13) for a 'private' ride (as opposed to paying 80 total for a shared ride with others, meaning we'd be stopping to pick up and let off people all along the way), but as soon as the money left our hands, a group of locals piled in as well.
Still, it was a pretty pleasant ride, although I was wishing I was doing it by bike. The first section was paved, but then the road turned to gravel and we passed a couple of huge banana plantations. After an hour or so we arrived at the Finca, and the Dutch girl argued with the driver, trying to get change since we'd paid extra for a 'private' ride, but had ended up picking up various other people along the way. He claimed we had misunderstood (yeah, right) and that he had come directly, instead of taking the "long" way, although there didn't really seem to be any other way to get there than the one road we had followed all the way from town.
But the hot springs were amazing. There was a cool but pleasant river in the jungle, into which was pouring a large, hot waterfall. We swam out to the waterfall, and stood under it on some rocks, having a pleasant hot shower. In places the water was pouring down quite forcefully, and standing under it was like receiving an extremely vigorous massage. Later, a few of us scrambled up above the falls, to soak in some shallow pools of hot water, and follow the hot river a hundred meters or so through the jungle to its source, where it bubbled up from the ground.
The next morning, we were up before the sun for a kayak tour on the river to see the local howler monkeys and watch the sunrise, then we took a lancha down the river to Livingston, on the Caribbean coast. We were hoping to get to see some of the Garifuna culture there, such as music and dancing, but being a Tuesday night, things were very quiet. We did however meet a local Garifuna musician, who greeted my companion with "Hey African!" as we sat at an outside table drinking some beer, and who we talked to for a while getting his perspective on things. He then took us on a brief tour of the Garifuna side of town as we went looking for a copy of one of his CDs. We also tried a "Coco loco", a coconut with rum, which was the first time I can remember having a drink in a bar that was prepared with a machete.
The following day, we took a lancha back to Rio Dulce, and after lunch and finding an ATM that worked, caught a hot, overcrowded bus to Flores. We had to stand for about two and half hours before finally getting a seat, although some people ended up having to stand the whole journey. Flores was a pleasant small town on an island in the lake, probably mostly visited because of its proximity to the Mayan ruins of Tikal.
We found a hotel, then wandered a bit, ending up having some beers on the lake, watching the sunset, then heading to a restaurant for dinner and some pretty decent brownie sundaes.
We were up early the next morning to catch the 0500 bus to Tikal, and spent pretty much the entire day there, catching an overcrowded microbus (Volkswage van) back to Flores at 1700. Tikal was amazing, with towering pyramids in the jungle, lots of birds, and even some spider monkeys swinging in the trees. We ended up taking a tour with a Spanish speaking guide and one other traveller, Marcello from Argentina, to practice our Spanish and learn more about the ruins. The tour lasted about 4 hours, and covered a large portion of the ruins. Afterwards we wandered to most of the rest of the areas with the Argentinian fellow, speaking almost exclusively in Spanish, since he spoke very little English. On top of one of the pyramids, I started talking to Yuki, a young Japanese woman, who then joined us for the trek out to one of the outlying pyramids. On the way, we met a Mayan priest, who was enamored with Yuki, and ended up somewhat jokingly asking her to marry him. She spoke very little Spanish, so we had to serve as translators for this exchange. Later that night, back in town hanging around driking and talking, I ended up translating for Yuki and the Argentinian, when they got frustrated trying to communicate using Yuki's japanese phrase book with silly cartoon pictures.
My travelling companion decided to head to Coban the next day with another traveller, but I decided to head back to Xela, taking a night bus via Guatemala City and Antigua, which Yuki also took. We bid farewell in Antigua, and after wandering for an hour or so admiring the early morning light on the beautiful colonial buildings (it was about 7 am), I hopped on a chicken bus to Xela. That night, I reconnected with some of my friends, and we ended up going out to some clubs, a nice welcome back to town.
We only spent the night there, then headed across the lake by lancha to San Pedro, which seemed just as touristy, but targeted to a different variety -- namely younger backpackers. Everything was quite cheap, and there was a variety of foreign and ethnic restaurants to choose from. We rented bikes for a couple of hours (about $1/hour, although I really missed MY bike, since the rental was pretty crappy and WAY too small for me) for a short ride out to San Juan, where we didn't see any other gringos, although we did check out a couple of art galleries and weaving shops.
I got a bit lost in the maze of streets on the way back in to town (actually something I often strive to do when exploring someplace new), and we ended up on the far side of town, making our way back to the hotel via a network of narrow dirt paths and alleyways, along which were various interesting restaurants and bars.
After lunching in one of those restaurants on some curries (where some of the other patrons nonchalantly started smoking a joint midway through our meal), we eventually ended up renting kayaks (about $1.30/hr) to relax out on the lake, admiring the views of the surrounding volcanic peaks and the sunset. Later, we headed out for dinner and some drinks, and ended up at an outside bar where a good live band was playing.
The next morning, we hopped on a lancha to Pana, then a chicken bus to Guate (Guatemala City), then a taxi to another bus station, where we had lunch in a comedor before hopping on a first-class bus to Rio Dulce. This bus was quite a change from the chicken buses, with assigned seating, air-conditioning, and films, even if the films were some of the worst I've ever had to endure. Really awful american horror movies that I'd never even heard of. In Rio Dulce, we hopped on a lancha to the hacienda where we were staying, across the bay. It was a pretty nice place, but quite expensive by Guatemalan standards (about $12/person with shared bathroom). There was a swimming pool though, which I took advantage of, since it was quite a bit warmer there in the lowlands than it had been in Xela.
The next morning, we walked into town, and pondered our options for getting out to Finca el Paraíso where there were hotsprings. There was a bus, but it apparently didn't run all that often, and there were also the small collectivo picops (pickups), which cram a bunch of people into the bed, an alternative to the buses. We ran into a group of 6 other travelers, 5 Israelis and a young Dutch woman, and we decided to bargain for a pickup, which was both amusing and frustrating, since different members of the group were bargaining with different drivers. In the end, we agreed to pay 100 quetzales (about $13) for a 'private' ride (as opposed to paying 80 total for a shared ride with others, meaning we'd be stopping to pick up and let off people all along the way), but as soon as the money left our hands, a group of locals piled in as well.
Still, it was a pretty pleasant ride, although I was wishing I was doing it by bike. The first section was paved, but then the road turned to gravel and we passed a couple of huge banana plantations. After an hour or so we arrived at the Finca, and the Dutch girl argued with the driver, trying to get change since we'd paid extra for a 'private' ride, but had ended up picking up various other people along the way. He claimed we had misunderstood (yeah, right) and that he had come directly, instead of taking the "long" way, although there didn't really seem to be any other way to get there than the one road we had followed all the way from town.
But the hot springs were amazing. There was a cool but pleasant river in the jungle, into which was pouring a large, hot waterfall. We swam out to the waterfall, and stood under it on some rocks, having a pleasant hot shower. In places the water was pouring down quite forcefully, and standing under it was like receiving an extremely vigorous massage. Later, a few of us scrambled up above the falls, to soak in some shallow pools of hot water, and follow the hot river a hundred meters or so through the jungle to its source, where it bubbled up from the ground.
The next morning, we were up before the sun for a kayak tour on the river to see the local howler monkeys and watch the sunrise, then we took a lancha down the river to Livingston, on the Caribbean coast. We were hoping to get to see some of the Garifuna culture there, such as music and dancing, but being a Tuesday night, things were very quiet. We did however meet a local Garifuna musician, who greeted my companion with "Hey African!" as we sat at an outside table drinking some beer, and who we talked to for a while getting his perspective on things. He then took us on a brief tour of the Garifuna side of town as we went looking for a copy of one of his CDs. We also tried a "Coco loco", a coconut with rum, which was the first time I can remember having a drink in a bar that was prepared with a machete.
The following day, we took a lancha back to Rio Dulce, and after lunch and finding an ATM that worked, caught a hot, overcrowded bus to Flores. We had to stand for about two and half hours before finally getting a seat, although some people ended up having to stand the whole journey. Flores was a pleasant small town on an island in the lake, probably mostly visited because of its proximity to the Mayan ruins of Tikal.
We found a hotel, then wandered a bit, ending up having some beers on the lake, watching the sunset, then heading to a restaurant for dinner and some pretty decent brownie sundaes.
We were up early the next morning to catch the 0500 bus to Tikal, and spent pretty much the entire day there, catching an overcrowded microbus (Volkswage van) back to Flores at 1700. Tikal was amazing, with towering pyramids in the jungle, lots of birds, and even some spider monkeys swinging in the trees. We ended up taking a tour with a Spanish speaking guide and one other traveller, Marcello from Argentina, to practice our Spanish and learn more about the ruins. The tour lasted about 4 hours, and covered a large portion of the ruins. Afterwards we wandered to most of the rest of the areas with the Argentinian fellow, speaking almost exclusively in Spanish, since he spoke very little English. On top of one of the pyramids, I started talking to Yuki, a young Japanese woman, who then joined us for the trek out to one of the outlying pyramids. On the way, we met a Mayan priest, who was enamored with Yuki, and ended up somewhat jokingly asking her to marry him. She spoke very little Spanish, so we had to serve as translators for this exchange. Later that night, back in town hanging around driking and talking, I ended up translating for Yuki and the Argentinian, when they got frustrated trying to communicate using Yuki's japanese phrase book with silly cartoon pictures.
My travelling companion decided to head to Coban the next day with another traveller, but I decided to head back to Xela, taking a night bus via Guatemala City and Antigua, which Yuki also took. We bid farewell in Antigua, and after wandering for an hour or so admiring the early morning light on the beautiful colonial buildings (it was about 7 am), I hopped on a chicken bus to Xela. That night, I reconnected with some of my friends, and we ended up going out to some clubs, a nice welcome back to town.
posted by Matt at 12:12
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