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....