Guatemala

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A border crossing is usually an eventful day but our passage into Guatemala went quite smoothly for once. We had elected to get a taxi to the border as the local bus terminates in the town of Benque, requiring a mile walk in the midday heat which didn’t sound appealing. We paid the departure tax of $60B and moved into the Guatemalan side of the border where we were mobbed by private bus shuttle touts and money changers. We continued to walk out of the immigration area and over the bridge into a local village where collectivos ran to our destination of Flores for a tenth of the price quoted at the border. Our first introduction to Guatemalan transport didn’t disappoint as we were crammed into the back of a minibus, and when it looked as if there couldn’t possibly be room for another living thing, a man clambered aboard clutching a 3-foot-wide satellite dish: Get yourself in here mate, the more the merrier! Despite the suffocating heat, locals didn’t seem to have a bead of sweat on them whereas we looked like Lee Evans after a live stand-up show. We eventually reached the town of Santa Elena and from there jumped into the back of a tuk-tuk to carry us over the causeway to the island town of Flores.

Flores is an islet in the middle of Lago Peten Itza and as a former Spanish settlement, it retains a Mediterranean feel. Like 99% of travellers in the town, we were there primarily to visit the Mayan site of Tikal, located 40 miles from the town. Lonely Planet describe it as the ‘Mother of all Mayan ruins’ and it was by far the most spectacular of the 15 sites we have seen on our trip so far. It is set in 220 square miles of pristine jungle and new laser scanning technologies used by National Geographic has recently uncovered more than 60,000 previously unknown Maya structures that were part of a vast network of cities, fortifications, highways and farms in the area. We made our way through the jungle to the sound of howler monkeys in the surrounding trees, making a deafening racket. It is hard to believe that such a small animal can produce a noise so dramatic that it was used to portray a dinosaur in Jurassic Park. We climbed to the apex of the Temple IV – at 65 metres, it is the tallest pre-Columbian structure in the Americas; the viewing platform at the summit was used for a scene in the first Star Wars film.

After spending 4 days in Flores, at least one day too long, we arranged transport to our next destination – Lanquin. This required a 9 -drive south through mountainous regions and upon arrival in the town we were transferred to a military style truck for a further hour on a bumpy dirt track to our accommodation at Semuc Champey. We stayed at a place called Greengos hostel, an eco-lodge where we were cut off from the outside world for a few days with access to electricity only available for a limited time each day. The main attractions here are the surrounding countryside and 300 metre natural limestone bridge beneath emerald green and turquoise pools; the water is filled from the Rio Cahabon and was perfect for swimming.

From Semuc Champey, we moved East to the second biggest city in Guatemala – Quetzaltenango. This was probably the most arduous journey to date: 13 hours to travel 250 km on the some of the worst roads we’ve encountered. Along the way, there were stretches of the road that we partially blocked by landslides, parts where the villagers had blocked our progress by setting fires to burn rubbish and sections where the road had just crumbled away. All the while our driver was constantly having to jockey for space with enormous logging trucks that dominate the narrow tracks.

We decided to break up the journey with an overnight stop at the lakeside town of Panajachel before carrying on to Quetzaltenango, or Xela, as it’s known locally. So far in Central America, we have followed what is known as the ‘gringo trail’, a well-worn backpacker route through the more popular tourist towns in the area. Xela was the first departure from this route and the main attraction for visitors is to acclimatise in preparation for treks, and to study Spanish at the many schools in the city.

In Xela, we took the decision to climb our first volcano – Santa Maria – with what turned out to be a complete underestimation regarding the scale of the task. At 3772 metres, it is Guatemala’s fourth largest volcano, and viewed as the most difficult climb due to the relentlessly steep incline of its trail. The trek was a 16km round trip, but regardless of these facts, we pitched up without so much as a hamstring stretch and ploughed ahead with what turned out to be one of the most difficult things we’ve ever done. Hiking poles were allocated to people on request and, true to form, Melissa had snapped hers in half within the first hour of walking. The look of bemusement on the guide’s face when she handed over the shattered remains was one with which I can relate. To add insult to injury, we were left to regret the decision to give all our food away to three friendly volcano dogs that accompanied us, particularly when we discovered that all we had left was 2 fun-size Snickers bars to keep us going for the rest of the day.

We made it to the top in under 4 hours which was, by all accounts, half decent and it enabled us to look down on the nearby active Santaguito volcano before the rapidly moving clouds obscured any vantage point as they do later on in the day. The following day was spent in the local hot springs in an attempt to restore the ability to walk properly but for some reason, a game of Marco Polo broke out in the overcrowded pool, and we decided to head back into town.

As our Spanish was in need of a refresher, we were on the lookout for a local Spanish tutor who we could meet with for a couple of hours every day. We felt very lucky to be put into contact with the crazy-in-a-brilliant-way Linda, who taught us so much about Guatemalan history and culture as well as hugely improving our Spanish.

The main reason we were in Xela was to complete the 3 day/ 2night 48 km hike to Lake Atitlan. We went with a company who are a non-profit organisation run wholly by volunteers and all the money made from the treks goes to a local school and home for street kids. We were part of a diverse group made up of: German, American and English guides; a couple from Denmark; an Australian girl who had spent the last year living in Siberia; a couple of trainee doctors from Sheffield; a geologist and a project manager from Houston; a lad from San Diego who was in the Peace Corps; two girls who worked in Hollywood for Paramount Pictures - and two idiots from Manchester.

Day one was fairly easy as we travelled through the farmlands of Alaska and cloud forests of the surrounding valleys before reaching our first overnight destination; a small pueblo where we were offered the chance to take a Temezcal which is a traditional Mayan sauna. After the sauna, we made our way into the village community centre where we slept on our roll mats on the floor of the hall.

Day two was without doubt the most strenuous part of the hike, involving 8 hours of walking. The hardest portion was Record Hill - so called because it’s a timed section - where absolutely no records were broken. Unless it was for a record number of water breaks taken. There were 9 river crossings to navigate and the last part of the day before we reached the road into town was through something called the ‘corn fields of death’, I thought it was maybe named after a civil war massacre but it turns out that it was just a really difficult uphill climb at the end of a hard day. The night we made our way to the homestead of a local by the name of Don Pedro who provided us with another floor to sleep on.

Day 3 commenced with a 3.30am wake-up call in order for us to meet up with our police escort to begin our walk to the mirador overlooking the lake for the famous Lake Atitlan sunrise. This was followed by a two-and-a half-hour descent into the village of San Juan La Laguna, via the La Voz coffee plantation before jumping on the back of a pick-up for our arrival in San Pedro.

The day after our arrival in San Pedro, I rented a Kayak on the lake with the lads from Houston only to find our work rate criticised by Melissa who was keeping tabs on us from the shore; implying that floating around chatting was not proper kayaking. We all spent the next three days together, mainly just coaxing the American lads into watching the World Cup in various bars around the lake.

After 3 days at the lakeside villages of San Pedro, San Marcos and Santa Cruz, we headed off to the beautiful colonial city of Antigua; one of the most popular tourist destinations in Guatemala. We met up with a couple of girls from the Xela trek to watch the World Cup semi-final and it was here that Melissa took England’s exit particularly badly for some reason. I think that I knew it was probably time to go home when she began strangling a man we had just met for the crime of being Croatian. (He was actually from the Czech Republic).

We had decided to climb two volcanoes in Antigua, the first one was Pacaya and compared to Santa Maria it was a stroll. It is one of three active volcanoes in Guatemala and the most accessible of any of the 37 that the country has to offer. We made our way across lava fields to an elevated part where we managed to get close enough to the falling molten rocks to toast marshmallows on a stick. I got close enough to get a tan and I shouldn't have really needed this trip to teach me that lava is pretty hot. I wasn't alone in my stupidity that day though as one guide got so close that the soles of his boots started to melt.

However, Volcano Acetanango was the real challenge that awaited us. We wanted to book with a local guide rather than one of the big tour companies in town to ensure that all the money goes back into the local community. Dylan, the lad from San Diego, recommended a guide from the local village of San Jose Calderas – Catalino - and as part of his more authentic service, offered to put us up at his house the night before the trek. Upon arrival, we were accosted by his two daughters and a niece, aged 6,7 and 8 who insisted that we assume childminding duties before taking us on a tour of their village. It was obvious that the villagers were not used to seeing many gringos around those parts, but the curious looks from the locals generally gave way to a friendly ‘Hola!’ As we made our way back to the house, we passed two kids no older than 8 or 9 on horseback returning from working in the fields with their bundles of firewood; an image that reinforced how tough life is in these communities.

Catalino’s family didn’t speak any English which was a challenge for our Spanish skills but we did alright; his wife made supper and prepared all the meals for the trek, while we were left to entertain the girls who were obviously intrigued by the two aliens that had been invited into their homes. They were hyperactive and in retrospect, we could've intervened when the eldest took a pair of scissors to her mum's handbag. We almost certainly should've stepped in before the younger one burnt her fingers playing with matches and I doubt we'll be getting asked back to babysit. They had calmed down later on to the extent that I had an audience for the event of brushing my teeth as all three girls stood mesmerised by the magic of an electric toothbrush.

We woke up the next morning to find that Catalino was ill and couldn’t make our trip, so we went with his son Warner who is also a qualified guide. We said our goodbyes to one of his daughters who was still at home after deciding that she was too tired for school – probably because she stayed up late trying to set fire to the curtains or something.

Despite reading grave reviews about the difficulty of the climb, we didn’t think it was as bad as Santa Maria, maybe because we were now more used to the altitude and had the experience of the Xela hike under our belts. We climbed through an alpine forest and reached basecamp by 1.30pm before spending the afternoon setting up the tents and equipment. We were camping in the volcanic crater at 13,000 feet and the site offered an incredible view of the neighbouring Volcan El Agua, Volcan El Fuego, Lago de Atitlan and the Pacific Ocean. We were situated on the seismically-active Pacific ‘Ring of fire’ and the adjacent El Fuego erupted last month with disastrous consequences for the nearby town of Escuitla. It was the worst eruption in the area for 45 years, affecting 1.7 million people, with 3,000 people evacuated as volcanic ash was spread over a 12-mile radius. To date, the death toll stands at 110 with an estimated 200 people still unaccounted for and it was quite harrowing to look down into the crater of Fuego, the source of so much devastation and see the buried town of Escuintla at the foot of the volcano.

Everyone in Guatemala seems to carry a machete and Warner was no different. When I asked if it was for chopping firewood though, he said ‘No, it’s for the coyotes’. I thought he was joking until we woke up the following morning to find that our camp had been ransacked by the same animals. It was an uncomfortable night with the temperatures plummeting after sunset. It was the coldest conditions I’ve encountered in years and the first time I can recall ever having to wear 4 pairs of socks to bed. We woke up at 3.30am to begin the hour long climb to the summit, a place where 6 tourists died from exposure in January. Shortly after setting off though, the weather took a turn for the worse. With high winds and thick clouds reducing visibility, we were forced to abandon the trek and return to basecamp. The strength of the winds had made it too dangerous to navigate the final ridge and Warner made the decision to turn around and start our descent. After making our way back to San Jose Calderas, we met up with Catalino and took the chicken bus back into Antigua where we were staying for our final night in Guatemala.

We had finally arrived on a decision to go straight to El Salvador rather than Honduras first as it looks like we will now have to come back to Guatemala City for a flight to Costa Rica as Nicaragua is a no-go zone due to the ongoing troubles there. As we said our goodbyes to Catalino and to Guatemala - another fantastic country - the last thing he said was to message him when we arrived in El Salvador to let him know that we had arrived safely.

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Comments

[Mel P]

Top of the pops!! :-)
Awww you guys, I've just read your blog as I'm bloody useless. Wow, what an adventure. I get out of breath in the lift at work never mind all the hikes and that you two are doing!! It sounds like you are having the most amazing adventure and this is what life is all about, says steady Eddie here, don't like change me haha. The pics are amazing and great captured moments, remember the film Romancing the Stone, I keep thinking of that bus ride that Kathleen Turner was on with the birds flying around etc etc but I maybe way out, just the picture I have in my head. haha I'm just going to work my way back through the other blogs now xx