Yet again it has been a while and a lot has happened. Guatemala is a smaller country and they pack an awful lot into a small package. We started out in Xela which we didn't really spend too much time in. It is a city with quite the city feel. There are amazing treks to do around there, but as we didn't arrive on the weekend, we missed out. From there we went on to Fuentes Georginas, natural hot springs high up in the mountains. We stayed the night there which was one of the best last minute decisions we have made the whole trip. We had our own little bungalow with a fire place (wood provided), candles for when the electricity turns off at 10, our own bathroom (a proper luxury), and, get this...our own hot spring in the bungalow. We lived like rock stars for a night, and all for a fairly small fee. We couldn't believe our luck when we walked down to a less trodden hot spring in the middle of the jungle. I look back at pitures and remind myself that I was actually there. The hot springs close at night so we had the run of the place. We ate smores and hot dogs cooked over the fire and got a bit drunk. Heaven.
We then moved on to Lake Atitlan and stayed in the smaller town of San Pedro. This is hippy central, and brit central. I have met more brits in Guatemala than Mexico hands down. We stayed in a hostel called Zoola which had excellent food, but scorpions and spiders of all sizes in our room. Egad! But we went kayaking along the lake, both myself and Pricsilla took a 'dip' during our trip. Despite being unintentional, it was very refreshing! It is a shame as the water levels are rising dramatically, something like 20 feet in 2 years, and you see so many houses, hotels, restaurants and brand new docks submerged. Also, the Guardian apparently wrote an article telling people not to go to the destintation, and the lake has felt the brunt of that bad advertising. We were there in peak season and it was very quiet. Buit it is a lovely higgeldy piggedly place with amazing street food. They aso sell Osama Bin Laden fireworks that you can let off in the street. Mega. We also did a full moon party on the top of a mountain along with a full moon zipline with a shot of tequila at the start and one when you have done all your ziplining. It was breathtaking, but I'm sure the tequila adds a bit of sparkle! We were hauled up on a chicken bus, the very same chicken bus that took us in to San Pedro. Her name was Wendy, old, reliable, Wendy. The guys on these buses who take money and put your luggage on the top are like olympic athletes. One minute they are hanging out the door, the next they are on the roof of the moving bus, then at the back, then magically back at the front. People here work so hard it is unbelievable. The graft, the hard graft by men, women and children alike puts me to shame. Although there are a lot of men who seem to spend a lot of time standing around and staring. Staring is a popular pastime, and not at anythng in particular, just watching the world go by. It's something we seem incapable of doing. Just sitting with no purpose, we have to prove that we have a purpose or friends by getting out a book or a phone or a music player. I envy the simplicity sometimes.
Sorry, I digress into culture. Priscilla and I nearly killed ourselves hiking up the largest volcano on Lake Atitlan called, wait for it, San Pedro volcano. 10 points for creativity. I didn't really know what I was getting myself in for and my feet are still suffering. I nearly didn't get to the top. Pricsilla nearly didn't get to the top because I nearly throttled her for convincing me to come. But we got to the top and saw a view like nothing I have ever seen. I believe we were 3,000 metres, maybe a bit more. I would never do it again, but it was worth it.
We then moved on to Languin and Semuc Champey on a 9 hour mini bus journey. We had fold down seats that beat us in the kidney every time we went over a bump. As the roads here a prone to subsidence and random bouts of unanounced roadworks, there were a lot of bumps. But we arrived in high spirits to a beautiful hostel that had no water. But it was a picturesque valley between mountains and volcanos with a blue green river running below. The view out of my window in the morning was something out of a postcard, or those coffee table books. But it was a place of drinking. We woke up the next morning to tubing down the river with beers for 2 hours. Then back in the afternoon for more drinking. The next day we went to Semuc Champey just down the road in the back of a flatbed. Rather a lot of us crammed standing up for an hour on trecherous weaving roads. We got there and the first thing we did was mount a swing over a river and swing and dive in. Then onto the caves where we trekked, swam, climbed and jumped through the caves with candles. Then onto a mirador (a viewpoint) to overlook the river. It brought flashbacks of the volcano and murderous feelings, but again, it was worth it. Oh, nearly forgot the bridge jump that bruised my flailing, terrified arms as I plunged into the depth. Still bruised now, but a good war injury. We then swam in beautiful river waterfalls and were lulled over to another jump. It was apparently 20 metres, and for the sake of a story, I'm going to say it was. Again, smacked my arms but rose triumphantly and having done the jump.
Unfortunately the next day I came down with a stomach virus and the next 2 days were spent doing nothing while travelling friends and companions got progressively more drunk. Oh well, I saved a lot of money! And what a view to have while you're spewing...couldn't complain too much.
Another 9 hour bus journey and we are in Flores, a little island in the middle of a lake. We have a room that has no walls again, just a lean to with sheets of plastic for walls. But we woke up at 4 this morning and did Tikal, the highest altar in the Mayan world and an amazing set of ruins. We had a great guide who showed us Howler monkeys, Spider monkeys, a local anteater type creature, as well as the ruins. it is the winter equinox tomorrow night so we are going back to Tikal to climb one the ruins and watch the sunset and look at the stars the way the Mayans did. Still a lot to look forward to, and still so much I have omitted due to memory and time.
One conclusion I have come to though is that travelling takes a while to adjust to. I've felt this over the last month. The first few weeks were intense and scary. Not knowing where you're going, having to talk to people all the time. But you get into a rythym, and we finally found ours. It's not all plain sailing, but the next view, the next place, the next friendly person remind you why you're here. I consider myself very lucky to have seen the things I have already seen, and can't wait for what's around the corner.
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