A bath at last with free mud pack included.

Fuentes Georginas, the most popular natural spa in Guatemala, four pools fed directly by boiling sulphur waterfalls, framed by steep high walls, today’s destination. A 40 minute nail biting bus ride from Xela for a blissful bath floating in the hot water with steam rising around me staring up at the tropical ferns and vines climbing the rocks.

In with the weekend locals at the volcanic hot springs 

The mountain air is cold, especially in the morning, and it took courage to lose the layers and plunge in, but once in I soaked for hours. The locals, who throng up at weekends, seized the chance to give me, the gringo, a face pack with volcanic mud. Very effective, my skin now feels baby smooth, long may it last.

Locals mining the mud for...

....my Volcanic mud pack

Returning reluctantly on the lunchtime bus we stopped on route to ‘wind dry’ our sulphur soaked hair. I went with a great group from this lively buzzing hostel, who had invited me along despite the obvious generation gap.

On the way back - Volcano baked and drying off 

Window view on way back - often best not to look!

When they decamped to the nearby bar on our return, i seized the quiet time here to skype home and then had a minor meltdown when the wifi went down and I burst into tears. This prompted lovely kind gestures from the staff who fussed around with water and tissues whilst patting me on the shoulder and crooning in Spanish. Fortunately the wifi came back up so all was well, though I have a feeling I now understand the dialect for ‘ the crazy English lady’.
As the sun went down I wandered the streets admiring the busy evening promenade around Parque Central and finished the day staying true to my roots by finding a ‘thrift’ shop where I picked up a thick nearly new jumper for 10 q. These highland nights are chillier than I anticipated but tonight I am snug and warm in my Guatemalan jersey.

Quetzaltenango (otherwise known as Xela)

So today in the chill of dawn I boarded the shuttle for the Western Highlands and the mountain town of Xela. As usual here the bus was very late but the views as we negotiated the sheer mountain passes and ravines were so spectacular I (just) forgot my tiredness.
These drivers are lunatics, which does help with staying awake. We passed one car gone right over the edge but caught, suspended, in a tree just in time to prevent falling to the valley floor below.

Mountain pass with cloud below enroute to Xela

A few hours of switchback bends and we were nearly there until, in typical Guatemalan style, we were offloaded in a garage to wait for another bus. Why? Who knows.....
Eventually I arrived here in Xela, a town well worth the journey, despite it being about 10 degrees cooler up here. I am wearing all I have. Plus a borrowed jumper. But it is great to be somewhere that feels to me, for the first time, authentically Guatemalan. Few tourists make it, though it is a popular place to study Spanish so foreigners are not unusual. This is a full on working town. Santiago was a tiny taste of Xela, this is the real deal.
I spent this afternoon exploring and getting thoroughly lost. I found the massive cemetery and wandered the ‘avenues’ (it is the size of a suburb, with street names) admiring the well tended plots and memorials, I found many superb churches, including the gleaming white cathedral, and was completely blown away by the variety of architecture, the art deco, ancient and modern, all cheek by jowl.

Cemetery 'Avenue' 

View of the Cemetery

Glowing Marble Cathedral

My very limited Spanish was not enough to understand the helpful directions locals gave me, but one kind lady simply took my hand, walked with me a few blocks and guided me carefully into a shared mini van, which for the princely sum of 1 quetsal ( um, about 10 p) took me back to Parque Central, about 20 mins away.

Amazing Architecture

Starving by then I finally tackled the tortilla ‘ bars’ -open doors which lead into people’s kitchens - and by sheer sign language obtained three fresh delicious tortillas filled with queso (cheese). Gorgeous. The ladies were so amused by my hand gestures they didn’t want my money (8 q)
These are the moments which make the hard work of solo backpacking worth it. Despite yet another night in a noisy hostel with a lumpy bed, today has been give me a real ‘buzz’. The travellers ‘thrill’ which transcends the exhaustion, the frustration and the worry and makes everything worth it. At least for that moment....

Santiago. The Wild West.

Well, not exactly the Wild West, but Santiago is the town on the far side of the lake with a very high indigenous population and a notoriously wild reputation. The townspeople banished the state police and now rule themselves. A recent incident involving the murder of a tourist led me to decide, for once, on taking a tour boat rather than the public ferry. Not that much more expensive and much safer.
Santiago is certainly different from the gentle small villages lining the lake, but by the time our boat deposited us there I was up for the change of pace. We‘d traversed the water via San Juan and San Pedro, where I had a pleasant time revisiting my favourite haunts in these lazy artisan towns with their fascinating street art and picturesque lanes but the hussle and hassle of the Santiago dock was an enjoyable thrill. I liked the hectic, manic feel of this working town.

Women weavers CoOp in San Juan 

Guatamalan street signs - for the Women's CoOp I think!

The daily market was still thronging with vendors desperately trying to sell all their stock as in this heat meat and fish must be freshly slaughtered daily. Open top vans full of people (and guns) drove madly round the busy streets and the park was alive with families. Once I d got my bearings I opted out of the visit to ‘the shaman’ (um) and felt safe enough to wander down to the banks of the creek to admire the shallow waters of this steep inlet.

Waiting for the boat - Any boat!

San Pedro from the water

The afternoon waves were up with a vengeance for the return journey. The jolting was the worst it's been, everyone got a drenching in the open wooden boat, and getting off was so perilous on the rickety wooden piers the boatmen decided to land us elsewhere. As I type I am feeling the rooftop terrace move beneath me, metaphorically speaking, too much time at sea today!

Santiago Lakeside

Tomorrow I move on to Xela, somewhere in the highlands. I will take with me fond memories of this hostel, it is friendly and family run (despite the noise, animal and human!) and of my time by this beautiful lake.

San Juan and sweet dreams

The roosters were up early today and so was I. This is true hostel living, no sound proofing, no privacy and often no sleep! On the plus side it does have a great garden and roof terrace, is just a few steps from the lake and has a tame parrot always keen to say hello in any language.
I intended to head to Santiago, but ended up on the ferry to San Juan. (Boats go when full, and I couldn't face the long wait for Santiago). San Juan is a more arts and crafts version of San Marco, a pleasant way to spend the morning exploring the handicrafts at every corner.

Guatamalan Lanes

Sitting on a deserted pier for my lunch I was befriended by a stork who followed my progress along the shore as I followed the shade. Just him, me and time to dream. Time stands still here and I can feel myself slowing down in tune.

We moved from pier to shore...together

Ambling at the waters edge I could see vestiges of the village swallowed by the rising levels. Farmers are painstakingly cultivating the new banks into allotments, while higher up coffee beans dominate the landscape. Tonight the sunset illuminated the volcanoes lining the lake in glorious technicolour, variegated greens, blues and browns in fluorescent hues. Magnificent.

Watching the sun set

Sunshine and peanut butter pie.

Tuesday, a week since I left England and it feels an age ago. I am writing this on a roof terrace under the stars beneath the lemon tree whilst eating fresh fruit and tortillas. Guatemala is such a beautiful country and here at Lake Atitlan, relaxing listening to gentle guitar music from a nearby cafe drifting up, I feel completely at peace...albeit mildly sunburned.

Sunrise over the Lake

Today I took the shuttle boat to San Marco where I met up with Troy, Kari and Sage for breakfast. San Marco is tiny and a mix of local people and commune style hostals. Crystals, tarot cards and the like vie for space alongside the artisans. Health food shops line up next to traditional shacks. Perfect, if only I was 25 years younger. I wish!
After pottering the tiny lanes we went on to San Pedro for a wonderful lazy lunch. Thanks to the USA contingent running many of the cafes, we discovered the most amazing peanut butter pie I have ever tasted. Iced coffee and pie. Fabulous.

Fisherman on the Lake

As the afternoon waves began to build I left them for the return boat to Pana, as bumpy as yesterday, but also as mesmerising, rainbow colours flashing in the waves reflections as we soared across the waters.
The evening lakeside stroll, this time along the quieter lanes away from the centre, watching the locals mine the creek for whatever they can find and fishing in the shallows. Darkness has fallen now, the heat has risen, the storms of a few days ago a distant memory. I can, and probably will, sit here for hours.

Sunset

Panajachel and a visit to San Pedro

Bliss! Silent night. Saturday night is party night in Panajachel, thankfully Sunday night was as quiet as  can be. My wonderfully deep sleep was only finally broken by the inevitable roosters but even they had the decency to have a lie in.

Today it was time to venture across the lake. Mornings the waves are calm,  though the cool air coming down from the mountain hitting the warm waters makes for choppy seas later in the day. The boat piers perch unsteadily on poles swaying disconcertingly. The boats themselves are basic wooden ancient models, not a trip for nervous sailors.

Ferry port!

Heading out over the lake

I ventured out with my USA friends, Kari and Troy, and their 2 year old daughter Sage, and we thoroughly enjoyed the 30 mins to San Pedro on the opposite side to Pana. Sage charms everyone with her golden curly hair and angelic smile, the locals love her and that makes life easier, they hand us samples of their produce, bananas, avocados, oranges, result!

San Pedro is a smaller version of Pana, but built into a slope, up it rises from the lake and up we walked ..the town is suffering from water levels rising, the remains of flooded hotels stick up out of the shallows. There is a unique Mayan temple buried deep under thus lake but the modern ruins are far more obvious!

Lakeside Living

The family are moving here for a few days, they want a more upmarket room, a choice I can empathise with, but needs must. We admired their new lakefront pad before ambling around the streets and into a great coffee place for sweet pancakes and superb coffee.

Lake view from San Pedro - with coffee growing in the foreground

By mid afternoon the waves were rising and I made a hasty retreat to the boat. The return was bumpy to say the least, climbing out onto the pier at Pana almost impossible due to the rising winds. My bottom is bruised, again.

Waiting for the boat back 

Another evening wander, Pana is more touristy than San Pedro but I like the fiesta feel, the sunset gatherings on the front. The streets are easier to ramble, unlike the cobbled uneven paving of Antigua s ancient ‘roads’, although being run over by errant tuk tuk an ever present danger, and there are plenty of places to sit quietly and gaze out at the aqua blue waters.  Lake Atitlan is an ever changing kaleidoscope of colours, shapes, shadows, its truly mesmerising.

Chichi Market

Not quite the quiet day uncovering the lakeside villages nestling in the shadows of the volcanoes I had planned. Instead the young couple with a two year old in the room next door persuaded me to arise early again to join them in a foray to the famous Chichi market, an hours bus ride away. Carpe diem!

Early rising is not an issue. The roosters are shrieking at dawn. Plus the dogs, and it being Saturday...the party goers continue til daybreak. Hostel life. Deep joy. Still the dawn is a great time to sit outside with a cuppa as the sun lifts the hills into life.  As our overcrowded bus chugged into the mountains the villages were bustling with market traders thronging to join the streets of Chichi, the largest market in Guatemala.

Chichi Market - flower sellers on the church steps

Guatamalan wall decorations

However, by Indian standards it is relatively small(ish) so unlike my new found friends I found the crowds manageable(ish) and could  appreciate the fantastic varieties of anything and everything... So many different types of clothes, artwork, food, produce alive and dead, plus stupendous flowers. Amazing sights and a Great ‘ vibe’, plus there was even good strong coffee, much appreciated. Hassle, yes, as always, but good natured, cheerful and, this time at least, not intimating.

Live animals for sale. At least these walked out unlike the chickens which get slung in a bag!

USA friends checking out the cheap dental care

Great fun, worth the trip, although tonight I am now even more tired than I was when I could blame jetlag. A (slow) evening stroll by the lake on our return and I'm off to bed ...in the vain hope that there will be a 'silent night' at some point. The Guatemala lifestyle seems to be an outside one, no one goes inside much even to sleep. Lovely people but very sociable and  lively!

Driving back..much of the cane and corn now cut back for winter but hillsides are lush, terraced cultivation rising high up the slopes ready for new crop

Lake Attilan slopes at sunset

Lake Atillan

Morning bus ride over the lush green mountains to my next stop, Panajachel at lake Attilan. Scenic trip as this is arable county, the terraced slopes cultivated with various crops and low lying fields full of produce.
 'Pana' , as it is usually called, is the largest town on this gorgeous lake, although it s a tiny one street place, minute compared to Antigua. My new base is a bit of a comedown facilities wise, but my balcony sits under shady lemon trees in a quiet blossom filled lane so it could be worse.
 This afternoon my first meander along the lakeside. Sunset heralded a storm! .tonight I am nestled into my bunk wrapped in blankets as an unseasonable wind whistles through the ill fiting windows.  It's time to locate my jumper

Lake Attilan

Sunset over one of the volcanoes ringing the lake

 

Sharing sunset with a wedding couple

Guatamalean Welcome

In the sure and certain knowledge that my trip will almost certainly descend into chaos and hard work, now is the time to say that these first few days have been a truly wonderful welcome to Guatemala. The hostel, whilst not a patch on the five star one Nancy directed me to yesterday with its free shuttles and exclusive hilltop cultural park, is a friendly communal little house full of simply lovely people. Antigua itself is stunning, ringed with towering volcanoes, a gem of architectural delights.

Today yet more clambering around ruins, so many ruins, the remnants of past glories before natural disasters wiped out the old city. A wander around the atmospheric cloisters of Santa Clara, where gardeners painstakingly maintain glorious gardens amidst the piles of broken pillars and soaring arches now open to the sky. Once a thriving convent this was destroyed in the 18th century earthquakes like the cathedral ruins alongside. Acres of broken brick interspersed with surviving intricate designs, yet today only the crypts survive intact, buried deep underground.

Ruins of Santa Clara Convent

Procession of ruined arches...

and embellished pillars

The colonial arts museum was fascinating, not so much for the art itself, although breathtaking beautiful, but to see these enormous canvases originally grand large scale altar pieces, missing random sections where over the years people have carved out squares for private use with little regard to cultural significance! One Guatemalan told me he believed that his countrymen care little for their own history, wanting only to look to the future. Who knows, but the evidence of such shocking and recent destruction of these precious historic paintings was startling to my eyes.

Lunch, and I took the another tip from Nancy, the Canadian living here for free long term in exchange for giving the owners massages. I suspect my scribble was ramblingly confusing yesterday. Essentially Nancy is sharing the owner’s hostel /commune ideal and passing on hints on how I can see the best bits for free, what a star. Today she directed me to an organic farm high in the hills.

This time the ‘shuttle’ ran from an artists collective in a warren of back alleys, and the ’bus’ was ancient, bench seats on cobbled roads, ouch!! But so worth it. The view was even more splendid than yesterday. Perched high in the sky overlooking the town from the opposite side to yesterday’s sojourn, precariously balanced on terraces on steep barren slopes. This collective works with local people to grow and sell organic produce and run a small cafe, a project designed to help them remain in their hillside villages.

View at Lunch...

... from the cafe

Revived by two aniseed buns, my new favorite thing, I reluctantly came back down to the bustling city streets. A sunset stroll to finish the day in positive mood as tonight I pack to move on early (very early) tomorrow to Panajachel. I shall miss Chez Daniel, the friendly staff, Nancy and her insider knowledge, and amazing Antigua, a fascinating absorbing place where I have been made so very welcome.

Transportation for tomorrow's journey

Valley Views

The human body is an amazing thing. one good night's sleep and the mind, spirit and body have reunited and regrouped ready to face this new world. Never ceases to surprise me that even  my aging system resets itself relatively swiftly. Thank god (any god).

This hostel helps, Chez Daniel is an upmarket place compared to many I am sure i have to encounter, but  worth paying to start the trip in comfort-there is good hot water, wifi, comfy bed, and real  luxury, a television with BBC World News. Very civilised.

This morning I hiked the first hill of the day, up to Cerro De La Cruz overlooking the town. This is Guatemalan winter, ‘only’ 25 degrees ish, and a mit chilly first and last thing, so easy walking temperature. I leapt up the steps like a gazelle. Antigua lay below, once hundreds of years ago the heart of Guatemala but destroyed by earthquake and floods, the last only in 1976. Major renovations over past and present keep the beautiful churches and monuments alive but amidst the stunning architecture are ruins at every turn.

Descending down the wooden steps I seized the opportunity passed on by Nancy, a Canadian woman living in Chez Daniel, in exchange for giving the owners free massages (good deal all round, methinks) to hop on a hotel's free shuttle to their cultural ‘park’ high in one of the other hills dominating the town.

This five star hotel has cultivated the landscape with a restaurant (great banana smoothie): and weird, eclectic art. Immaculate flower beds carved out eccentric patterns amidst fountains, aviaries, sculptures large and small. Restful, shady and all rather fun.

Nice view for Lunch

Weird art in the park

Back for coffee and sweet pastries and another climb, this time only to view the ruins of San Francisco and to admire the cathedral and park from the municipality offices balcony...bizarrely, whilst intimidating guards with enormous guns are everywhere, freedom to wander at will around public buildings seems quite acceptable (I hope).

View overlooking cathedral and Parque Central

Everyone seems very smiley and genuinely helpful, although English is limited so I need to swiftly improve my Spanish!  Supper of soup, spiced mango and fresh nachos as I type and watch the volcano spit red sparks into the dark sky. England is indeed a long way away now.

Many ruins

I

Antigua...at last

Twenty four hours after leaving home,the body arrived safely, the mind and spirit got lost somewhere in the three hour queue for immigration during transit in USA.

What little I saw of night time Guatemala City was scary enough, unlit roads where unlit cars weaved around at random, armed guards lining the neon Macdonalds. Luckily my transfer was successful, and I fell into an exhausted sleep somewhere in Antigua.

Daylight far too soon, early risers here, today (wed) has vanished in a blur of sights, sounds, smells, blissful sunshine.  The dawn view from this hostel window is gratifyingly stupendous, smoke rising in a dark stream from the active volcano, white buildings ablaze with glorious blossom.

Antigua

Wandering in a daze admiring the architecture of famous cathedrals I bumped into the friendly Dutch girl who sat next to me enroute from Atlanta and we shared a delightful iced tea in the shade of a local cafe discussing our mutual jetlag.

Iced Tea time

As dusk fell the lava flow erupted from the volcano, the locals continued to throng the markets, I stood in awe prepared to run for cover...  Great firework show to welcome me in

Fuming Volcano

And a few fireworks!