Blogs from Lago de Atitlán, Western Highlands, Guatemala, Central America Caribbean - page 4

From the moment we step out of the airport lobby and into the Guatmalan sun, our senses are overtaken by the city. An offbeat orchestra of car horns, shouting, motorbike revving, and mariachi music echoes through the streets. Swaths of colors sway past us as groups of Mayan women walk along the sidewalks, baskets of fabrics balanced precariously on their heads. Black exhaust puffs out of the back of old trucks in big, angry clouds, and heads straight for our noses. Boxy North American schoolbuses dressed to impress, adorned with bells and tassles and fresh coats of bright orange, red, and pink paint, are no longer toting eager schoolchildren to and from class at a safe and steady pace. Instead these Chicken Buses, as they have been newly baptised, honk and zoom past us, chocked full ... read more

Spanish speaking. It is amazing how quickly Spanish has come back to us. Of course, Clay has a big edge here but the fact that being “in it” helps, it makes us feel better about going to Morocco. Now, whether Arabic comes easily or not, will be another story. Tuk-Tuks: These roofed, but otherwise open, three wheeled vehicles are red, and numbered. Each one is individualized with things on the windshield- - “Jesus is my map,” paint splatter decals, a name, “Shalom,” etc. Some are in good shape, others with no tread on the tires, or taped up seats. They are the local taxis. They cost relatively nothing but are a God-send. Speaking of which, it is wise to pray before hiring one. (Videos are forthcoming.) The central plaza market. We took a Tuk-Tuk from the ... read more

I was flat on my back, my head straight against the pillow, my laptop nestled up against bent knees. I was playing a computer game for an hour or so, willing myself to get sleepy. Eventually I put my laptop away, turned off my light and rolled over to my side. Scratch, scratch, scratch. Nothing. Scratch, scratch, scratch. “What the….?” I thought to myself. Again and again I heard this noise, but never felt anything moving under me or on the walls against the bed. My first thought was “mouse,” then “rat,” although I hadn’t seen either the entire two weeks I was staying in this little bungalow by the lake. I thought perhaps one or both of the little rodents could be under the bed, and then after some time listening to the repeated scratch, ... read more

On my final day at the lakes decide I must go swimming. I climb through the path of a natural wildlife park and then scramble down the rocks and drop into the beautiful deep emerald water. I have the lake completley to myself – the basin of water is lit up silver by the sun like a bowl of mercury lapping at the foot of the green hills that rise in smoky peaks around me. Yellow butterflies dance at the waters edge, electric blue dragonflies ski over the water. Further down there are small boys jumping off trees into the water. I make my way back to the posada- San Marco is a litte rabbit warren of tiny cobbled streets leading up hill dotted with gringo cafes and restaurants along the way. In some of the ... read more

The last few days in Guatemala were spent in the Solola Department, either in Panajachel or in San Marcos. The western part of Guate was just as great as the first half that we saw when we went over to Flores Island and Tikal. Antigua was full of colonial ruins, but Panajachel and Lake Atitlan provided all the natural beauty one could ever hope to find, it really was quite beautiful and unexpected. Three volcanos circle the Lake and the legend of two star crossed lovers, doomed of course, is apparently the reason behind the whitecaps that come in on the lake in the afternoons - that is called the Chocomil. The boat taxi system is relatively easy to use, though my dismount from the boat is atrocious. I gave a few locals a good laugh ... read more