In describing Lago Atitlan as ‘too much of a good thing’, I don’t think Aldous Huxley could have been more apt. The landscape around this vast lake, ringed by imposing volcanoes and small village settlements, is misted with the softest clouds (which turn an astonishing pinky-mauve come sunset) and it indeed seems, as he wrote, ‘impossible’ (impossible to absorb, impossible to comprehend…). I have barely been able to take my eyes off it since getting my first daytime glimpse on Friday. Now that I have to move on (it’s back to Antigua this afternoon), I’m feasting my senses one final time, sitting here by the shore of Santa Cruz (the village I eventually opted to stay in this weekend), and feeling very small beneath nature’s audacious grandeur.
It’s a shame I don’t have longer to visit more of the little communities around Atitlan, as I’ve been led to believe that they all have quite distinct identities. However, I’m glad I based myself in Santa Cruz, which is small, relatively unspoilt, and not quite as ‘hippified’ or ‘New-Agey’ as some of the other places. It is home to a great little diving school and hostel called ‘La Iguana Perdida’ which is where I have stayed two nights in a dorm that, very fortunately, I managed to keep all to myself throughout my visit (meaning I could spread my stuff all over the place and – hurrah - have a good rucksack sort-out this morning!). It’s a lovely place with a great community feel. Delicious wholesome dinners every night round a big communal dining table, happy hours in the bar, and parties at the weekend that feel like the kind of house-parties you might have back home with good friends... I’d be quite tempted to stick around and work here for a while, as some of the people I have met are doing (you get free board and lodging if you do this for a two week minimum). However, I’ve got my plans set for Christmas in El Salvador now, and really need to press on to Panama for 19th January (when I have a flight booked to Bogota). There’s therefore a lot to cover between now and then!
So, I spent Friday morning sorting out the credit card crisis via Skype with Nationwide and with my Dad, also making firm my plans for Christmas with Simon – the guy whose house in San Salvador I’ll be staying in over the festive period. Simon, as tenuous links go, is the brother of Anna – a good friend of my work-mate, Jamie. To be honest, I’ve only met Anna twice. We got on really well, though, and, through her and Jamie, I was put in touch with Simon, who has been living and teaching in El Salvador for a while now(and who is actually about to marry a Salvadorean girl. We’ve exchanged several e-mails and, although he is going to be away over the Christmas period, he has very generously and trustingly told me that I am free to stay in his house (he has also arranged for me to picked up from the bus station and looked out for by his friends). It all sounds great and, although Christmas might be a strange and not conventionally ‘Christmassy’ occasion for me this year, I am looking forward to having a place to rest and base myself for a good few days. It will also, in organisational terms, provide me with a fixed address to which my Dad can send my replacement debit card. He posted it off recorded delivery on Friday afternoon so we will all wait with baited breath to see when it arrives here in Central America! In the meantime, my credit card has been cancelled and, provided I complete and fax off a signed declaration about the unauthorised transaction last Sunday, I shouldn’t be liable for any of the money that the mischievous Guatemalan fraudster pocketed. Phew… Honestly, although it has all been a hassle, thank God for Skype and the internet (also the patience and good grace of my Dad and Nationwide’s call centre staff!).
Anyway, after all of that mucking around I decided to make a late morning visit to Solola – a town not far from Panajachel that is said to host one of the most vibrant and bustling markets in Central America every Friday. I hopped on an authentic Guatemalan ‘chicken-bus’ (the old style US schoolbuses that constitute the transport of the people – as opposed to the relatively luxurious shuttle minibuses that I have been using so far) and I waited patiently for it to become rammed like a sardine can (with people literally hanging out of the doors and windows) before it set off. As I hope my photos illustrate, the chicken-buses are usually quite funkily decorated with loud primary colours and swirling typescript proclaiming their destinations. It was a pretty cool way to travel, although not terribly comfortable, so I was glad that Solola wasn’t all that far away.
When I arrived, the market was well underway (apparently it starts at 5am every Friday) and Guatemalan men in their crazy ‘space cowboy’ costumes (flares and open-necked shirts in loud traditional woven fabrics, topped off with cowboy hats) were milling around the square, along with Guatemalan women in similarly colourful national dress. Many of these had babies slung across their backs in slings. As was my experience in a lot of the Mexican markets I visited, anything and everything seemed to be for sale – with no real discernible order. Rugs and fabrics, soap and razorblades, machetes (a bit disconcerting – obviously there are no knife sale laws here), grisly piles of greyish meat (I must say I have gladly returned to vegetarianism these past few days!), bras and panties, ice-creams that were no doubt scooped-up incitements to salmonella… You name it, it was for sale there. Although all the bustle and jostle made me feel as if I was barely keeping my head above water in fast-moving rapids, I spent an hour or so coursing through the congested traffic of the market. It was actually a good place to make some useful ‘travellers purchases’ (a soap dish to contain all the slimy bits of soap that are currently squidging round in my washbag, and a little floral patterned tin bowl and cup to occasionally allow me to do some self-catered breakfasts and lunches). I also mercifully got my hands on some tampons! They were sold to me at a pretty extortionate price (I paid the same for 10 as I had for my hotel room the night before!). Still, I needed them and they afforded me the opportunity to swim yesterday in the lake, which made it worthwhile.
So, after returning from the market, I got on a lancha across the river to Santa Cruz and settled myself into La Iguana Perdida. That night at dinner (a delicious aubergine curry with salad and pilau rice – just the kind of food I’d been craving) I met two American girls called Michelle and Debbie, and a Canadian psychologist called Alan (this part of Guatemala seems to attract a lot of vacationing therapists – and I managed to have some interesting conversations with him about the work he does back in Canada on a Native Indian reserve there). The four of us agreed to go on a bit of a hike the following day to the next village along called San Marcos – a good thing, as apparently there are occasional attacks on tourists in the area, and safety is considered to be greater in numbers.
Therefore yesterday, I got to go on the good hike that I’d been yearning for for so long. It took us about three hours to get to San Marcos, and it was a steep, narrow and rocky passage in parts. It offered some astonishing views, though, and by the time we reached San Marcos, we were ready for a spot of lunch at a small vegetarian hotel/restaurant (San Marcos is one of the more ‘alternative’ villages – with a plethora of meditation and yoga centres, veggie/health food offerings, spiritual healers, and a discernible whiff of pot!). After some digestion time, and a short siesta in the shade, I felt up for a dip in the volcanic lake. This was refreshing but a little strange – unlike swimming in the sea, or anywhere else I’ve swum before really (a lot of people at the hostel have been diving in the lake and say that the world beneath it consists of trees and Mayan ruins as opposed to shellfish and corals).
So I guess I did what I wanted to do here (yesterday evening there was a BBQ and a bit of a party in the lodge, which was also fun – although I was quite tired). This afternoon I’m heading on to Antigua, and will need to find a hostel for tonight. However, tomorrow I am meeting up and staying with Katie – whose story I will tell in full in my next entry. In brief, though, she is a girl from my home town of Gosport, who one of my Mum’s friends put me in touch with because she has married a Guatemalan and is now living here. That should be interesting – learning more about her transition from Alverstoke to Antigua. Anyway, the sun is getting hotter now so I’m going to pack up, wander to the village and then make my way back by lancha to Panajachel. More to come from Antigua, or perhaps San Salvador – depending on when I next get the chance…
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