Guatemala I

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Arriving in Belize from Mexico had been a strange experience because you could literally see the cultural change in the people as you crossed the border: from Spanish to English; from Latino to Rasta; from short to tall. And now, on leaving Belize for Guatemala, the change was all but reversed.

The bus journey showcased the beauty and greenery of this new country. I had known Guatemala only as a country of many colours, textiles and markets, but I hadn´t realised just how green it was until now. The roads were lined with taquerias and tin-roofed tiendas which were manned by all members of the family - big and small. Stray dogs and local women in traditional dress with babies tied to their backs walked casually along the sides of the windy roads that were surrounded by hills and volcanoes, whilst our driver ably maneouvered his way around the sizeable potholes that were plentiful on the under-developed road.

Our first stop in Guatemala was to be Flores. We had heard good things about this little town that is popular with backpackers and a good stop-off point for trips to such places as Tikal, which houses some of the continent´s most famous Mayan ruins. It also had a nice-sounding hostel called Los Amigos which promised five levels of comfort, from hammock to private. When we reached Los Amigos we were shown around by an middle-aged English guy wearing skinny jeans and long hair. It was pretty obvious that he´d got stuck here. Fin and I opted for level three: standard dorm, which at a hefty three pounds (or thereabouts) meant that we had hot water in an ensuite bathroom. Luxury!

Los Amigos is a beautiful hostel to look at, and technically it´s very good. There´s an extensive menu with tasty vegetarian food (the back of the menu goes through the various moral and environmental reasons for not eating meat) and sturdy wooden benches flanked by big leafy plants and trees, in which a white rabbit and two big dogs live in complete harmony. However, as can often be the case when travelling, this hostel was something of a hippy haven. There were just a few too many traveller pants, dirty dreadlocks (mine are clean!) and enforced chill-out music for my liking. The hostel boasted over one hundred DVDs but these were all documentaries - nothing so superfluous as films for pleasure.

We soon bumped into our Bavarian friend Franz (who we knew from Belize and Arizona), and on day two, set off at the reasonable hour of 10am (all the hippies go at 5) to visit Tikal. Not being as generally enthralled by ruins as most other travellers seem to be, I was pretty much sold on Tikal because of the monkeys that roam the forest there. These famous ruins were originally hidden in the jungle, so there´s a lot to see beyond the old stone structures. Despite the abundance of monkeys, ruins and peacock-hued turkeys, walking up the path to temple V, Fin commented that she felt like she was in the Forest of Dean, and strangely enough, it wasn't as different from England as you might think. The shading of the trees turned the heat into a nice cool climate, and what with all the other Western tourists around, it didn´t feel particularly exotic. The group of fat Americans being driven around the forest in a Jeep did little to add to the mystique of the place. Still, climbing the near-vertical steps to the top of the highest temple and looking out over Guatemala was an amazing experience. A perfect photo opportunity. I however, had given my camera to Fin, who stayed at the bottom, so that she could get pictures of me atop the temple. I only realised the stupidity of this plan when I had finished climbing. Now I only have photos of a disappointed-looking dot at the top of a very high temple.

After visiting Tikal there was little left to do in Flores, so we decided to take the 12-hour coach to Lago de Atitlan, as a short stop-off before language school in Antigua. Expect the next entry en Espanol..

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