Paradise Found

Central America Caribbean » Guatemala
April 25th 2010

Published: April 25th 2010

For my next destination I ventured South to San Pedro, a small Mayan village on Lake Atitlan, Guatemala´s largest and reputedly most beautiful lake. My first experience of this lakeside village did not quite match the image I had of a tranquil hippy idyll that other travellers had painted for me. As soon as me and my fellow travellers had got off the bus in San Pedro, we were bombarded by a hoard of tourist touts and hawkers desperate for our attention and business. We quickly located our rucksacks and tried to explain to the crowd that we already had a reservation for a hostel. Unfortunately, this information did not dissaude the rowdy throng of people and a congo line formed behind us as we made our way to the hostel. The group continued to push and shout behind us as we walked through the village and it quickly became apparent that an arguement had broken out. The leader of the group and our now unwanted guide led us down a narrow alley insisting that our hostel was only a few minutes away. As the jeering and shouting behind us grew, our pace quickened and we looked around at one another nervously, wondering what on earth we had gotten ourselves into. All of a sudden one of the more inebriated members of the group picked up a rock and hurled it at another man. One of the girls in our group screamed and we all simultaneously broke out into a run. We rounded the corner of the alley eager to distance ourselves from the drunken rock throwing gang behind us. Suddenly, as if out of nowhere the twinkling lights of our hostel appeared before us, promising sanctuary and security away from the chaos on the streets. We rushed in through the doors of the hostel and quickly rattled off our nightmarish journey. The owner simply shrugged in a Gallic manner and suggested that they were probably just arguing over who would get the comission for taking us to his hostel!

Despite this shaky start, San Pedro turned out to be a beautiful and peaceful little village. Local artisans lined the streets weaving their brightly coloured and impossibly intricate tapestries that would then be turned into clothes and bags. Most of the villagers still wear their traditional clothes. The women in long multi coloured skirts and flowery tops, their silky black hair worn in long thick plaits. The men are dressed as cowboys but with a Mayan twist- traditional cowboy attire but with tassels made from wool of green blue and gold. The hostel was paradise and had been designed in such a way as to invite the guests to do as little as humanly possible. A large seating area of scattered cushions and low legged tables covered half of the picturesque garden. This seating area was sheltered by a rainbow-coloured roof with papier-mache lanterns of red orange purple and blue hung from the ceiling. The rest of the garden was littered with thoughtfully placed hammocks and gazebos in which you could idley laze the days away. The ambient chilled-out music that played unobtrusively in the background completed the mellow, laid-back atmosphere. Above all of this, it was the food that they produced which really made this hostel one of the best hostels I have ever stayed in. The Israeli run hostel created a mouth watering selection of creamy chunky hummus, fat juicy green olives, warm freshly baked pitta and spicy tangy aubergine dips. Not forgetting the beautifully sticky, chewy choclate brownies they baked freshly everyday. On the evening of our arrival we feasted on the fine food and swung around in hammocks, sleepy content and excited to explore the lake the following day.

The next day we set off bright and early to explore the rest of the villages dotted around the grand emerald lake. We hopped on a boat and made our way to Panajachel, the largest village on Atitlan. Though it seemed that there was not much to do in the town apart from wonder around buying little trinkets and tacky souvenirs I was impressed by the brightly painted buildings complete with fancy white trimmings much like the icing on a sickly sweet birthday cake. As we returned to San Pedro the sun began to set and the tiny little villages that are buried deep into the cliffs that surround the lake became apparent as fires were lit and lights turned on in preperation for the on-coming nightfall. I was struck with how magical these villages and the lake itself seemed and I began to understand why so many travellers never leave the shores of this majestic lake. Unfortunately the future of the lake and its inhabitants looks bleak. Due to rising levels of pollution in the lake mainly caused by the flows of untreated sewage that are pumped directly into the lake itself, the lake has been invaded by an intoxicating algae which has taken over and is begining to kill all of the life within the lake. When we arrived we were not able to swim in it and what I took for being a beautiful rich green colour was in fact the algae that had taken over. Hopefully the devestation that is being caused will kick start some kind of protection programme. Sadly, some scientists believe that it may already be too late.

Upon our return we decided we wanted to climb one of the surrounding mountains that we had just seen and signed up for a trek to the summit of "The Indian´s Nose". The trek started the following morning at 3.00 am. The early start was to ensure we reached the top for sunrise. We met our guide who was carrying a small rucksack with a machete poking out of the top. I took little notice of this but later learned that most guides carry the machetes as a deterent to any would-be thieves. I am glad I learned about this after our trek. The trek was tough and I had to stop every few minutes to catch my breath. However the end result was well worth the early start and the painful clamber to the top. As the sun´s rays began to peek above the horizon the sky and surrounding landscape turned from dusky greys and purples to brilliant burnt oranges and reds to the bluest of blues. The glass-like lake reflected the ever changing moods of the sky perfectly. The views were both humbling and awe inspiring and once again the awesome natural beauty of Guatemala was revealed to me.

After a couple more days by the lake, I said my goodbyes picked up another travelling friend in Antigua and together we made our way North to a town called Lanquin. I had been drawn to Lanquin by regular statements from other travellers that it is the most beautful place in the whole of Guatemala. Having already been extremley impressed with Guatemala so far I wanted to see for myself what all the fuss was about. We arrived in Lanquin after a 13 hour bus drive,a third of which took place down a neverending rocky dirtpath. Despite it being night time I could already tell that this was a special place. The air was thick with hummidity and the constant hum of crickets and frogs. The hostel was on the outskirts of the villiage surrounded by dark green foliage and made up of a series of palm thatched bungalows each with a porch and a couple of low slung hammocks. The bungalows were dotted around a fast running brook and a few bonfires had already been started by fellow guests. By the morning the heat had risen to intense levels but the daylight only helped to exemplify the natural beauty and serenity of the place. I awoke early and headed outside to be greeted by the sight of people paddling around in the creek, eating breakfast on the decking and exploring the surrounding hillsides. By day the breadth and scale of the landscape were revealed and it was breathtaking. Huge lush green mountains rolled on for as far as the eye could see. Oversized flowers brightly bloomed, highlighting the evergreen landscape with great splashes of colour.

However the best was yet to come as it was not Lanquin that everyone raved about but the area of Semuc Champey. This oddly named region of Guatemala is an area in which a huge valley has been carved into the great green mountains which in turn has created a series of aquamarine pools. The area is also famous for its intricate network of caves which can be explored by candlelight. The natural beauty of this place has in fact led it to be hailed as one of the seven great natural wonders of the world! Eager to check out this so-called Shangri-La of Central America my travelling partner and I signed oursleves up for an action packed day of adventure exploring Semuc and all it has to offer. The tour did not disappoint. The day was filled with adrenillin enducing activites including rapelling, waterfall jumping, tubing and wading through waist high water in caves with only a small wax candle to light the way. The scenery also lived up to my great expectations. Huge aquamrine pools cascaded down the valley, carving their way through a chlorophyl-covered landscape. The colous of the pools themselves were so bright and so vivid as to appear unreal. Everyone spent the whole day with massive stupid grins on their faces, shaking their heads at the unbelieveable beauty of it all.

I could´ve stayed in Lanquin forever but a new adventure had begun to call. I had heard of a trek to a newly discovered and reportedly largest Mayan ruin deep in the heart of the jungle. The ruin named El Mirador or The View would take 5 days to trek but promised to be well worth the effort. Determined to complete my very own Indiana Jones style adventure I set off up North with two fellow adventure seekers keen to traipse for 5 days into the jungle in the hope of coming face-to-face with a jaguar and becoming one of the first people to walk around this little-known ancient civilisation of epic proprtions.

As soon as we arrived in Flores, the town from which the trek would start we met a German couple who were also willing to do the trek with us. The next day at breakfast a fith traveller, a Candian who had cycled all the way from Canada to Gautemala joined us. With the guide and the porter our group made 9. We were ready for our jungle trek to begin. The journey started with a three hour drive which took us to the outskirts of the jungle. When we eventually reached the begining of the route we quickly loaded our belongings and food onto a group of mules and were led to the start of the trail by a small wiry woman, wearing flipflops and cropped trousers, a handbag slung under one arm and a can of coke in the opposing hand. After about an hour of hot stepping it through the jungle I nudged one of the members of the group and asked them when we were going to meet our guide.
"I think this is our guide" came the reply. I was slightly defalted by this news having envisioned a machete wielding, leather boot wearing guide complete with mysterious scars and tales of wrestling with jaguars and bare knuckle fighting with alligators. I was also quietly impressed by our actual guide Maria´s non-plussed attitude. Here we were, going into the great wilderness for 5 days and all she had was a can of coke!She looked like she was off on a trip to Sainsbury´s.

As the days wore on it was clear that she was as strong as an ox and never took a moment to rest. We also never saw her eating apart from occasionaly at dinner time. Apparently she only needed a few sugary caffineated slurps from her can to keep her going. Unfortunatley her knowledge of the jungle left a lot to be desired. When a group of monkeys swung through the canopys overhead we would excitedly ask her to identify what types of moneys they were. "Monos" (monkeys) she would reply and continue to plow on ahead oblivious to our bewildered expressions or wishes to observe the monkeys for a while. The jungle itself seemed less tropical then we had all been expecting and it was noted on several occasions that the trees were not that disimilar to the ones you would find back in Europe. Despite the odd encounter with monkeys and interactions with the camp Kuwati Pancho, there was no further wildlife spotted. We regularly heard birds squacking above us but we had of course realised quite early on into the trip that we could not rely on Maria for help with identifying the birds unless of course we wanted clarification on whether or not they were in fact birds we could hear.

The ruins of El Mirador were well worth the 5 day slog through the never-ending forest. For one, our group was the only group on site and we were able to to explore the temples as and when we desired. One night we hiked up the largest Mayan temple in the middle of the night and admired the star lit sky the deafening silence and the vast jungle that surrounded us. The guardians of the temples even let us crawl through the buildings themselves where we were able to admire the ancient paintings that decorated with inner walls. The size of El Mirador was also quite impressive. All around us mounds of not yet uncovered ruins shaped the topography of the landscape. Archeoligists that work on the site believe that the people of El Mirador would´ve been able to communicate with neighbouring civilisations in Mexico and with the civilisation of Tikal, another major Mayan civilisation to the South of the site. Maria´s tales of ancient Mayan spirits guarding the site and the humbling feeling that comes with sleeping in the wildreness with only a thin sheet of plastic seperating you from the elements outside only added to the mystique and intrigue of El Mirador. We returned exhausted achey and eager to return to creature comforts but also wholly satisfied and exhilirated by our jungle experience.

As if El Mirador was not enough, the next day I headed out to visit Tikal, Guatemala´s most iconic ruin. Tikal was a lot more manicured than El Mirador. Well maintained trails snaked through well pruned forests that lead you from impressive temple to another. As Tikal has been well excavated I was able able to get a clear image of what this great empire used to look like. The temples were tall and steep and at times vertigo would set in and I would have to cling desperately to the side, take a few deep breaths and continue my ascent. Once again the views were breathtaking and we sat at the topof the temples in awe and wonder, mystified by how these temples were built in the middle of nowhere with no vehicules, no roads and no machinery.

Tikal was to be penultimate destination in Guatemala and I was keen to reach my final destination in time for Christmas to meet my friends Rachel and Jed from London. The next day, I packed up my belongings and hit the road back down south again.

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