After sheepishly arriving in Guatemala city I took a micro shuttle straight to the colonial town of Antigua. A beautiful cobblestone city surrounding by three volcanos, Antigua is a mecca for backpackers and Spanish schools. It was here that I was to meet up with Sanchez and Lilla. The first thing that struck me about Antigua was how westernized it was. Whilst there were still many traditional Mayans in their colourful dress I didn’t expect the town to host an array of American take out venues (McDonalds, Dominos etc). After four days of exhausting the sites of the city and with a punished liver to prove it I walked into our hostel, The Black Cat to find young Nathanial “Sanchez” Hatwell and Lilla siting down to lunch. After two and half years he is still such a nuggety little bloke. He hasn’t grown and his potty mouth is even more impressive in Spanish and English. The next four days were a blur of beer, rum, The Bueno Vista Social Club and re visting most of the the towns sites. Of particular note was a 16th century church which was totally leveled by an earthquake in the late 1700s. We also hiked to Volcan Pacaya, Guatemalas most active volcano where through the clouds we were literally standing on the edges of active rock. Another one of these attractions that in the Western world would not be fit for tourism, when Nats hat fell in the red pit we realised how easily it could have been one of us. The highlight for me came on the last night, arriving back at the hostel 2 hours before our scheduled 7am departure Nat drunkenly fell from the top bunk onto the floor during his sleep. When we woke him to leave he slid off the stairs and careered into another bunk and had no recollection of the initial fall. After sleeping on the bus for two hours he complained of a sore arm and half the bus already knew that he had been told four times that morning already that he had indeed fallen horizontally two metres some hours ago. Around this time we also befriended an English unit named John and along with an extended array of recently acquired friends we legged it to Lago de Atitlan and the small town of San Pedro on the lakes edge.
Little to nothing happened in the following week. We sunbathed, swam in the lake, ate like stallions, invented an extreme version of the card game "shithead", smoke sheeshas at Buddah Bar, ate cookies at Zoo La and slothed around town. After four days of this minimalistic lifestyle Nat and I dragged ourselves around to San Marcos, another village on the lake side. There were stunning views from a Mirador along the way and being content with our excercise for the day we hitched a lift back to San Pedro. We headed back to Antigua for one more big night before Lilla flew to London.
The following days simple instructions were to meet Nat in Coban, a town 6 hours away on bus. I awoke to find John perched at the bar drinking Sambuca at 10 am. He mumbled something barely imcompreshensible (i later found out he lost his ipod that night which was the last of his valubles, having lost money and wallet on other previous benders) and I told him Id see him in Lanquin in a few days. I arrived in Coban and Nat was nowhere to be seen. I was unfortunately stuck in the dismal town for a night and first thing the next morning caught another minibus to Lanquin.
The transport system in Guatemala is fairly strange. Chicken buses rule the road and all locals travel the chicken!! These are old American school buses, aptly titled for the chances of you sitting next to livestock on the trip are high. Chicken buses are cheap but slow. Next is a microbus or a shuttle which is a lot more expensive and smaller but basically deliver you from door to door. Out of chicken buses favour is the fact that most routes arent direct and swapping and changing is compulsory. All these buses ride the wet muddy Guatemalan roads at white lighting speed with little concern for passenger safety or blind corners.
Unfortunately a micro was the only option to Lanquin and it was most uncomfortable.
I eventually found Nat at El Retiro and he had booked us a tin shed with three hammocks for $2 a pop. We went caving close by the hostel and got right down to some fresh waters streams, some active bat caves and not so unique formations which Lee will inform anyone, includes "Curtains, Virgin Mary, The alter" etc. After the two hours we took some inner tubes and tubed all the way back to the hostel for cold beers and the distinct sight of John sleeping off a two day hangover.
The following day we visited the incredible Semuc Champey. A formation of 7 tiered waterfalls with crystal clear waters, 30 minutes from Lanquin. Photos should indicate how tranquil this place was.
Escaping the dense, humid conditions of Lanquin back up to Coban was a painful experience. Another microbus and after two hours I couldnt feel my lower half. My knees were jammed in front of me and were sitting at eye level, there was only enough room for one of my butt cheeks as I was sharing two seats with four people. I vowed not to take a micro bus for some time.
After a lay over to wait for a bigger bus we finally took off from Coban and by night fall had reached the town of Flores. A tourist town catering for the masses that flock to Guatemalas most popular tourist spot, Tikal.
Our hostels bar shut at 930pm??? And after tiring of being told to shut up by other guests, we took our beers and cards and sat out on the street. The following day we visited the ancient Mayan ruins which were quite spectacular. Some of the ruins date back to the 4th century BC and what makes them even more surreal is their location and surrounding flora and fauna. Not the rampant jungle it was 8 years ago, Sanchez told us a lot has been done in excavations and maintenance since he was there last. The best views were from Temple IV where I am told they shot a scene from Star Wars. Climbing next-to-vertical Temples in 32 degree heats and 80% humidity is also not be laughed at. I think I lost about 5 kilos in sweat that day.
Our last night in Guatemala was spent at this loose establishment known as Mi Disco. Possibly the most exclusive club in Guatemala, there were no gringos (I dont think there have ever been any gringos), an often empty Saturday Night Fever-esque dance floor and a large stage housing a boom box pumping out reggaton. What made Mi Disco was the good times attitudes of three young lads, keen at the bit waitresses, Nats art display in the back garden and his willing botany skills.
With this in mind we packed the next day and randomly decided that there were more good times in a neighbouring country called Belize...
|  | 
|
