A weekend in heaven

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Helen and I decided to go to the Lake Atlitan region for the weekend. It is about 2.5 hours away from here but in terms of climate and vegetation, it may as well be a world away.
We got there using a private shuttle (small bus but only one person per seat. Heaven!). The ride there was nice but a bit scary giving that you are always going up or down mountains. Still, I was OK until about the last 1/2 hour. It goes down all the way, in a very tight circle and the whole time you can see the bottom, thousands of feet below and nothing but the skills of the driver between you and death. For all of you who know my fear of heights, you can imagine how much I was enjoying myself. However, counteracting a bit my panic was the fact that the view was breathtaking, spectacular, wonderful and amazing (you get the picture!).

Our first stop was Panajachel, the most developed area of the lake. Very touristy: every other person a tourist. Not my favorite situation but bearable since I knew we were not staying for long. Still, all of you shopaholics would think you have died and gone to heaven (I am thinking about Steve here). Hundreds of road side little stalls selling "artisanats" clothing, pottery, etc. Very colourful and nice for about one hour (at least for me). The biggest change though was the weather. It was gorgeous and tropical, warm wind, flowers and palm trees all over.

We took the boat (a sort of large canoe with a motor and no "ceinture de sauvetage") and got to San Pedro in about 25 minutes. Very efficient. Now that is a village to behold. A step back to the 60's. More hippies than mom could remember, and of of all ages. The lingering smell of not quite legal tobacco added to the ambience. Again, more tourists than natives. Also a strong smell, not quite pleasant, of coffee pulp. We checked out a couple of English schools for Helen (they were really nice) and then we were on our way to San Marcos, our ultimate destination.

We found the small village to be very pretty and friendly, with more schools teaching metaphysics stuff (astral travelling, tarot, massages, traditions of the sun and moon) than Spanish. There was an aura of tranquility and calm over the whole place. Very soothing. We had a nice, clean and basic room but the view was worth a million dollars. We spent hours on the balcony just enjoying it all. I also had the best meal of the last month there. Just lovely. Can't wait for Steve to get here so that I can return.

Now, the ride back was something else. The private shuttles were leaving too late for our taste so we decided to take, you guessed it, the chicken bus. If I thought I was scared in the small bus, that was nothing compared to my panic in the big bus. My heart must have been going at 200 beats a minute for the first half hour. Helen told me to enjoy the ride and that there was nothing I could do (she is very zen). All true but I still decided that panic was warranted. I think I will bring a bottle of wine on my next trip there. Drunken unconciousness would make the ride pleasanter....

Still we got home safe and sound and decided to take the micro bus instead of walking for 30 minutes. I got to slap the hand of a pickpocket. He was searching my front pocket. He tried twice the twit. So I started telling Helen in French about the thief. A local lady could understand French so she started saying out loud "good for you stopping the thief", in Spanish of course. The guy got embarrassed and left the bus and all the ladies started smiling at me. I bet he might think twice about trying that again.

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