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Published: January 27th 2010
We are now camped on the shores of the beautiful Lago de (Lake) Atitlan high in the Guatemalan mountains with three majestic volcanoes in full view across the lake. The nearest village is Panajachel.
True to his word, Ramon showed up at 9:30 and helped us thru the bureaucratic maze of exiting Mexico and entering Guatemala. It cost the four of us 250 pesos each to get the Mexicans to stamp our passports so we could enter Guatemala. We will still have to purchase Mexican tourist cards on our return. Had we done the right thing in the first place, entering, exiting and then reentering Mexico would only have cost us a one time 260 peso fee. John had to pay the Mexican officials 400 pesos to get his truck out of the country in order to obtain a Guatemalan vehicle permit. He will have to buy the Mexican permit when he returns. We paid 720 pesos for our ten-year vehicle permit last year.
Our Guatemalan vehicle permits each cost 400 quetzals (about $50) and we had to have our tires and vehicle undersides sprayed with some kind of insecticide or disinfectant for God knows why. This cost us
another 42 quetzals. John had to pay more because he is towing a double axel trailer. Our immigration cost about 25 quetzals for all four of us. We also had to pay 100 quetzals for Furgie’s immigration on top of the ten dollars we paid their embassy in San Francisco.
Ramon told us that about twenty Americans, Canadians and Europeans enter Guatemala each week at the CA 2 entry we used. Probably more folks enter via CA 1, the Pan American highway from San Cristobol and the other Mexican colonial cities.
Guatemalan quetzals (pronounced ket-sahls) are trading at about 8 to the dollar. The bills are pretty and come in denominations as low as one. Like in Mexico, getting low denomination currency is always a problem because ATMs only spill out cash in large denominations and nobody ever seems to have change. This becomes a real problem for us because everything is so cheap.
It only took about three hours to get thru both borders. We had negotiated to pay Ramon the peso equivalent of $30 but gave him $40 because of our special problems. No doubt, he saved us much aggravation.
We were told that
it would take two hours to reach our first destination. Maybe by helicopter. We stopped about five hours later and spent the first night in a beautiful vista area overlooking the lake. Local police stopped by in the morning and told us that our parking there was “no problemo” but before they left us they told us repeatedly that “aqui peligroso” (here dangerous). Oh, well, we were ready to leave anyway and as we found out later it could have been downright deadly to have continued driving on that road after dark. I admired their handsome uniforms and they let me take their picture.
An enterprising fellow had set us his small gift shop at the site. He told us that all of his merchandise was handmade by himself and his family and how long it took to make some of the items. We bought a few things from him and headed on our way.
Sometime later we came to a construction area where a crew was working on a bridge. We got across the bridge just fine but the turn was too tight and narrow for John to get across. John had to back his truck and
camper about a quarter of a mile back up the road to where he could get it far enough off the road to unhook the camper and re-hook in order to turn it around. By this time we had created quite a stir. Local police in a pickup told us to follow them into town. Initially, the plan was to have us park at the police station but we were too big so the comandante told his officers to lead us around the construction and over back roads to the Pan Am Highway. All El Comandante wanted was for us to put some gas in their vehicle. These guys led us all the way to our campground. Although he seldom mentions it, John had commented to the officers that he was a retired policeman himself. This, no doubt, is why we got the royal treatment. The roads were awful but we saw rural sights we would never have seen had we stuck to the main roads. We bought the cops lunch and gave them some dinero (money) for cerveza after work. One of our escorts had lived in Beaverton, Oregon in 1998 and spoke very good English. How he remembered
his English for twelve years is amazing. By the time we got here to our campground, Hotel Vision Azul, it was about 4:00 p.m.
Enroute, we stopped at the top of a mountain with a clear eye level view of the volcanoes. Of course there was a family there selling handicrafts. Our clerk was a tiny girl who told me in excellent English that she was 16. She seems to have a good grasp of our language even tho she said she’d never gone to escuela (school). I did not have time to ask more questions as we were rushed and she was more interested in making a sale than visiting. We’ve heard that education is compulsory in Mexico but not always enforced. Not sure what the requirements are here in Guatemala.
Our campground host, Edward, was born and raised in Guatemala City. He moved to Houston when he was 27 and started several successful businesses. He had seen this place when he was 14 and had always dreamed of it. After he survived bladder cancer two years ago he came back and bought this hotel/restaurant/campground property and quite a bit of acreage nearby which he hopes to
lease to developers for another hotel. We are at about 5000 feet so the weather is moderately warm but by no means hot and the nights are slightly cool. The property has a pool and is nicely landscaped. Our rent for this lovely campground is only 100 quetzals (about $12) per day. The campground showers are agua frio (cold water) only but Edward lets us take hot showers in an empty hotel room. His internet is currently down but he hopes to have it up right away. If not, there are internet cafes in town. I had hoped we’d stay here at least five days thru the next market day in the nearby town of Solola on Friday. Now we have to stay because klutzy me fell off a three foot ledge near the pool walking back from dinner. My foot is bruised and swollen and my backside is pretty sore. Nothing that won’t heal and no I wasn’t drunk.
In addition to the four of us, Wolf and Patty, owners of Crescent City Brewing in New Orleans, are the only other folks here. They are traveling with a couple of poodle looking dogs. He is the brew master
and told us he brews only German style beers. Patty owns a wine distributing company. We all went to town to watch the playoff game between the Saints and Vikings. Naturally, he is thrilled that his team won. In fact, they are headed home today because business will really be picking up. He had planned to return in time for Mardi-Gras.
We were joined at the restaurant by Don and Laurie from San Diego. (They are formerly from Billings, Montana but left there twenty-five years ago to find a warmer climate.) She is a 2nd grade teacher and he handles commercial truck sales for a Chevrolet dealer in the San Diego area. Because business is down, they are spending a year in a Honduran village installing water purification systems on individual homes. This effort is being financed by the Rotary Club to which Don belongs. They were up here in Panajachel for a little R & R. They get around by “chicken bus” and told us that the roads as far south as their village are ok.
The vehicles are called “chicken busses” because passengers are allowed to bring all manner of small livestock and cargo aboard. We
expect to use one on Friday for the first time.
Coming up here we passed groves of either rubber or gum trees, tapped with what looked like black rubber collection cups. The system was similar to those seen on maple trees in Vermont. We passed fields growing coffee and all types of vegetables. Many people have terraced farms using almost every available inch of growing space.
Along the road we passed women and girls carrying everything from food, which they sold to folks like us tied up in traffic jams, to cargo and firewood on their heads. The men carry their burdens on their backs. Boys also carry loads on their backs but with a head band. Of course, we did not wave or speak to the folks loaded down with these enormous burdens but as we were driving very slowly with our windows down, we did smile and wave and say “hola”, “buenas dias”, and “buenas tardes (hello, good morning, good afternoon) to the adults and children standing or working along the streets and roads. The people are very friendly. Our greetings were almost always welcomed with a smile, wave and response. Unlike Mexicans who basically pay
no attention to us driving thru their towns, the people here stop and watch us. It seems rude not to acknowledge their interest. I guess Mexicans are tired of us gringos; whereas, here we are a novelty. When convenient, we invite folks into our rigs. They enjoy seeing how we live.
As Edward has not gotten his internet up, we are posting from Solomon’s Porch. This coffee house is owned by Lloyd and Melanie Monroe. He is a former lawyer from Florida. He sold his share of a small practice and moved his family to Panajachel, Guatemala to establish a multi-faceted ministry where he works with churches and other groups to raise funds to help the local people. Volunteers build and/or reconstruct homes and provide medical assistance to the people in surrounding villages. The other night when we were in the restaurant posting our previous blog, he presented and narrated a slide show of his organization’s accomplishments to a group of young North American volunteers. We were particularly moved by photos of babies with cleft palate reconstructions.
After his slide presentation Lloyd and his musical group entertained for a couple hours. Both of the guys in his band
are involved in his relief efforts. We believe profits from the restaurant help fund his charitable work.
Use of the internet is free but we enjoyed a few glasses of wine and a nice dinner along with the above described entertainment.
Parts of this area were devastated by Hurricane Stan in October 2005. The inland devastation was caused by landslides. Mud from deforested hillsides slid down and buried villages below. Because the slide happened at night many of the people were buried while they slept. While actual numbers are unknown, it estimated that at least 250 people were killed by the mud slides in this region.
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Liz Whipps
non-member comment
Awesome.....thank you for sharing!!