To Xela in a chicken bus and the hotsprings

We came back from the ruins absolutely knackered but we decided to hop on the night bus to Xela or Quetzaltenango as it is formally known as. I was going here for one thing and one thing only; to get a new backpack. My backpack was starting to fall apart so I thought it would be best to get a new one before I found myself in the slightly awkward situation of having everything scattered all over the road! Maria had decided to come with me if I accompanied her to Utila Islands in Honduras.

We had booked our ticket at the hostel and we got told there would be a pick up at 21:00. I asked 3 times confirming pickup as I saw it quite impossible for a bus to get into those tiny streets, but I was assures me would be picked up outside the door. At 9 sharp Maria and I awaited our chariot….. A woman in high heels appeared before us asking if we had booked the bus, and we nodded. Great she said I am here t pick you up. Where the bus I asked and she is kindly responded at the bus stop. I told her we had been told there would be a pick up at the Hostel, and by this time she was looking at me all confused and answered, I am your pick up. I will walk you to the bus! Maria and I chuckled at this, as things never seem to be what you are told over here.

Once on the first class bus we had been booked on separate rows, so we both had to sit next to strangers on an isle seat for the next 10 hours. This is not so bad you might be thinking and I will agree until they turned on the music which was a “lovely” bone shattering sound of tones from a Xylophone, and just as we though things could not get any worse, they turned the air-conditioning down to just a couple of degrees. We were freezing, and this hence the fact that we had long trousers, jumper, woollen hat, and blanket on us! We kept telling the driver to turn it off, or up. He did for a brief moment and then turned it back down again to ice cold. We did not sleep much that night. On top if it all we had to stop in Guatemala City I n the middle of the night to wait for a shuttle to bring us to Antigua….. It was no fun being cold, tired and hungry in a dangerous city in the middle of the night.

The shuttle arrived almost two hours later and we were glad to hop in and get some rest and heat up a little. After a few hours we arrived in Antigua, we hopped off there, and then bought our next ticket from Antigua to Panacachel (one of the villages on Lake Atitlan) and then from there we had to hop on chicken bus.

This was a real Guatemalan chicken bus; full of people, bags, food etc everywhere. It is always a little daunting when they throw your backpack on top of the bus, and you have no chance to keep an eye on it! The chicken bus was an adventure of itself. Maria who is adrenalin junky loved every moment of it, as we kicked into 5th gear going around the mountain curves or overtaking where we shouldn’t be. It felt like something out of the fats and the furious…. The bus was fast and I was starting to feel furious (read: scared). Maria giggled like a little girl at the Tivoli; whereas I was concentrating on holding on to keep on my side of the seat. You see the seat are rather slippery and I was sharing a seat with a young man, and I could on various occasions just slipped into his lap, or at least becoming very intimate! No thanks. So I held on!

I watched people come on and get off, I watched people sell food on the bus, and I watched with amazement how many people could sleep through these winding and bumpy roads. I watched people throwing litter out the window or just straight on the floor by their seat. Like the guy next to me throwing all the orange peel on the floor as well as spitting all he pips out between me and him. The “cobrador” (charger) on the bus is also responsible for retrieving your luggage when you get off and this was the most entertaining and almost astonishing entertainment of them all. He would climb onto the roof of the bus whilst in motion (read; speeding round the curve), find the right bag, and as people got off he would throw it down to you, so that the bus barely had to stop at all, that way saving a few seconds extra!

After a few bumpy hours we arrived in Xela! At first sight this was a very busy and dirty city. The bus terminal where we ad to get off was so stressful. People everywhere, getting dropped in the middle of the streets with cars surrounding you, beeping at you to get out of the way. Taxis wanting your business, people wanting to sell you anything….. It was just complete chaos. We hopped in a taxi and went to the Black cat Hostel in the older part of town. This colonial area was definitely calmer and more charming but extremely cold. Situated in valley, we could see some of the Volcanoes surrounding it.

After a day of looking for backpacks and having no results what so ever, we headed back to the hostel and decided to plan a trip the next day. We had heard about the hot springs here, so we booked that for 12:00 the next afternoon. Before that we had time to go the market and have a look. I am starting to find though, that once you have been to one market you have seen them all. They all more or less the same!

We got up and went to the market by microbus. Allready when we got in it was full, but if there is one thing you learn in Latin America it should be that full never means full. In fact it always means room for one more, oh what the hell 10 more. There is always room. So here we are in this microbus (minivan) getting very friendly with the locals, with our knees touching our chins almost and still watching more people get on. As we were reaching our stop they went to open the door we heard bang, bang, and bang. The first was the door sliding back all the way, the second bang was the door coming of the hinges onto the road, and the third bang was the door going from vertical to horizontal position. Maria and i burst into laughter inside the van. All the indigenous women around us tried to hold back to. I covered my face with my scarf, but my body was shaking and tears were running down my face. I tried so hard to contain myslef as the ppor owner of the car was probably not a wealthy man...... but even trying to think like that i could not stop. In the end we had the women joining in, and Maria and i saw it best to just get out of the van and walk the rest of the way. After all we no longer had a door!

The drive up to the hot springs (Baños Termales) was so scenic. I kept thinking it was cloudy up here, but of course it was all the hot steam from the hot water coming out in little streams and rivers everywhere. The baths were gorgeous; made up of 3 different pools with 3 different temperatures. There was a bar/restaurant, a picnics area, and changing rooms with showers. The vibe here was very laid back and there was a great mix between locals and foreigners.

We hopped into the shallowest one first as that was the coolest one, and considering I had only had cold showers for a few months now it was a shock to the system. I felt like I was burning up! I kept having to sit with my upper body out of the water or lifting my legs up to cool down. Maria quickly moved on to the next one but I needed more time. By the time I had made it to level 2 which was hot hot hot, Maria was in pool level 3! She was loving it. I was still trying to cope with the heat, but after 15-30 minutes in the medium temperature pool I started feeling comfortable enough to actually relax. I could feel my muscles starting to ease up. Maria kept urging me to join her in the hottest pool, and all I kept thinking was that I could smell boiling meat in there!

I plucked up all my courage and I took the few little steps I needed to get to the otter pool, just putting my toe in made me jump back! Maria kept telling me I was a wimp, so I tried again and this time with everyone in the pool as an audience….. I got in after a few long pauses, stayed in for 3 minutes and got the hell out of there before I was cooked completely. Walking out of the pool I noticed I was red from top to toe, and that the tips of my hair were cinched.

After some relaxing hours and some tortures minutes at the thermal baths it was time to head back down. What a great way to spend a cold day. Once back in the hostel I went to pick up my memory card that I had delivered to be fixed with all my photos from Tikal on it…… When I picked up the card he told me he had not been able to fix it. Strangely enough as soon as I put it into my computer it worked just fine, but unfortunately he had deleted all my gorgeous Tikal photos. As I am calling the man at the repair place every horrible name you can think of, I remember that at least Maria has photos. I quickly tell her to pass her memory card on to me to copy them so at least we have some safe. Just as the last word has left my lips I hear Maria cursing! She has by mistake also just deleted all her photos from Tikal, hot spring etc… We both look horrified at the fact that we longer had any photos from thee Tikal ruins! Loosing the photos brought on a migraine attack on poor Maria (Karma I believe), so she was out cold for the rest of the night!

Next destination Panacachel; Lake Atitlan

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