Our gem of a campsite on Lake Atitlan did not go to waste. We couldn’t resist hanging around for a bit and spent five days/six nights in Panajachel. Besides swimming in the pool, relaxing around camp, and generally taking it easy, we squeezed in a few side trips. We had quickly mastered the water taxis which serve as the main form of transportation between the villages around the lake. These are fiberglass boats powered by 100 h.p. outboard motors that carry around twenty people. Although most had life jackets, their vintage often left a bit to be desired. The boats didn’t seem to run on a particular schedule and the only “rule” seemed to be that they would not leave until there were at least twelve passengers. Luckily, this rarely takes that long and they are often full. Those seats not occupied by passengers are often filed with freight.

Our first boat trip was to the small village of Jaibalito which is only accessible by boat or on foot. With narrow pedestrian streets, the village was incredibly laid back and felt a bit like stepping back in time. We stopped at a little lodge for drinks and to take in their beautiful grounds. The feeling was completely relaxed (next time we feel stressed out, we just need to book a week here) as we sipped our drinks amid tropical flowers and hummingbirds.

Our next trip out was to San Pedro La Laguna for a hike up Volcan San Pedro. This little adventure started with a twenty minute boat ride across the lake and a ten minute tuk tuk ride up to the trailhead. We had hired a “bilingual” guide through an agency the day before (as guides are mandatory) and he met us in San Pedro. His name was Martin and he was young and amiable but we highly doubt he spoke any English. Although he seemed to understand a few words, we never heard him speak a word. However, this was partly because we barely saw him. He would generally sprint ahead of us and only stop occasionally… and only long enough to see that we were still on the right trail. The trail, however, was awesome. We started off in coffee fields surrounded by avocado trees and then continued on through cornfields before coming to the first viewpoint overlooking the lake. Shortly after that, we entered the rainforest and there would be no more views till we reached the top. The trail was steep, warm and humid. We climbed over 1200 m in about 5.5 kilometers to a breathtaking view of the lake and the surrounding mountains. It was worth the effort and sweat!

On our return, we were sitting around the dock, waiting for enough passengers for a boat ride back when I was approached by a young lad to shine my shoes. He pointed to my scuffed up hiking boots and gave me a look that said they really needed his talents. I told him I had to catch a boat but he replied that he could do them in 5 minutes! After some chiding by Kristel, I relented and sat down on the pier to have my boots shined. Kristel decided she would do the same when approached by another youth. It must have been the pressure of the five minute deadline which prompted them both to recruit helpers. It was quite a sight on the dock with both Kristel and I having our old hiking boots shined with a boy on each foot. We even noticed a few tourists taking pictures of the scene. They managed to complete the job before the boat was ready to go and I must admit that my boots have never looked so shiny!

We also ventured out to San Juan La Laguna, as we had heard it had some unique handicrafts. We took in a demonstration at one of the local weaving co-ops and a short tour of a medicinal herb garden. Later we were in a small shop where Kristel bought a poncho (had to happen eventually) and we asked the lady if we could take a picture of her weaving. She did one better and set Kristel up in her backstrap loom and tried to show her how to weave. This resulted in some great photos and lots of laughs all around. We headed for the dock and found that the next boat back would probably be at least 20 minutes, so we wandered back to grab a beer. I had seen a Gallo beer sign down an alley so we headed that way. We couldn’t actually find the bar/restaurant and were about to return when the owner greeted us and showed us to a lone table in a ramshackle shelter which was mostly submerged under the water. He got us a couple beers and joined us at the table to ask us questions about Canada and tell us about his village and country.

While hanging out at the campground, we also met Thorston and Annett – a couple from Germany in a motorhome with Nevada plates. They have been travelling since 2008 with no intention of stopping any time soon. It was fun to swap stories with them as they were headed north and had visited many of the places we wanted to see. We also hit the goldmine when they let us copy their “camp bible”: a compilation of Central American campsites from various blog sites. The only glitch? About half of the site descriptions are in German – oh well, I’ll let Kristel work out the translations.

From there, we had planned head to Fuentes Georginas Hot Springs and, as Thurston and Annett were also going that way, we got to spend another evening with them. The drive up to the hot springs was on a narrow winding and steep road. When we arrived, we were impressed to see they had managed to navigate their 25’ motorhome there. When I mentioned this, Thorsten said Annett “died a thousand deaths” while he drove and I think I could say the same for Kristel. It was a Sunday afternoon when we arrived and it was quite busy. In fact, we had to park on the road and walk to the hot springs. After the crowd left, though, we were able to move our camper and the motorhome into the parking lot for the night. By 6:00 the place was virtually deserted and the four of us had the pool to ourselves. We had a great visit and enjoyed our moonlight soak in one of the most beautiful places in the world.

Kristel and I had another swim in the morning before heading towards Huehuetenango. We opted to stop here because crazy traffic had slowed us (and caused me much stress) and our trip had taken longer than expected. We stopped at a rather rundown hotel to pass the night. It was currently being renovated but it had good parking (an important consideration) and the rate was only 200 Q per night. It would have been a completely uneventful stop except that we were joined by three young brothers during our evening walk with Chester. They were thrilled with him and asked if they could run back and forth with him. We had a great time watching them play and chatting with them. They were keen to try out the English they learned at school on us and it was also a good chance for us to practice our Spanish.

The next day we drove on to Nebaj, a major town in the Guatemalan highlands. What a different drive from the previous day. The road was narrower but in very good condition. It had steep grades and lots of curves but almost no traffic. It wound through gorgeous rural landscapes and was truly enjoyable. It reminded me of Canada of another generation, especially as we passed a small village where every truck in the countryside had come for what appeared to be a cow auction. Farmers were gathered in small groups, probably getting in more visiting than business.

In Nebaj, we located a hotel with good off street parking (albeit shared with some chickens). We had initially intended to camp out back but it was so pleasant and so cheap that we decided to take a room for three days. It is a small room with a private bath and a lovely courtyard right out our door (where I am sitting as I write this). We wandered around town a bit to get our bearings and managed to arrange a guided hike and find a local laundry.

We were up early the next day meet our guide, Nicolas, and head out for our hike. We followed a small rural road out of town which quickly dwindled to a steep trail up into the hills towards the village of Acul. We weren’t sure what to expect but thought we might be in for a fairly easy day. Nicolas, unlike our previous guide, did not speed ahead and in fact we were often waiting for him as he walked slowly and liked to take frequent rest breaks. However, as the trail continued to steepen and the sun bared down on us, we realized it would not be a walk in the park. Chester was less than impressed. At one point, he found a shady spot, laid down, and refused to move until he had rested.

During one rest break, Nicolas told us of the area’s tragic history. Although we couldn’t catch all of it (our Spanish still needs some work), we understood that the people here had suffered severely at the hands of their own government and later augmented what we’d gleaned with some wiki research. We learned that Acul was razed with and the people massacred at the hands of the army. It was later rebuilt as a “model village”, a place where the military could keep tight control on relocated citizens that were thought to be sympathizers with the rebels. This all happened in the relatively recent past as it wasn’t until the peace treaty of 1996 that things began to return to normal.

We finally crested the pass and were awarded with some wonderful views and the realization that we had quite a climb down to the village yet to go. Luckily, this side of the pass was shaded and therefore a little cooler. Chester had perked up significantly. As we entered the village, we made a number of stops, including the home of Nicolas’s friend, who tried to sell us some weavings and, when that failed, tried to buy Chester. Our next stop was the local coop store where Kristel and I enjoyed cool beers and a short rest. Then we were off to lunch at Doña Magdelena’s where we ate a traditional meal of rice, potatoes, another starchy veggie, corn tortillas and some small meat patties. It was all good but pretty high in carbs and completely lacking greens. So far we have been amazed at Guatemala’s scenery but not so impressed with the cuisine, I think we were spoiled in Oaxaca. After lunch, we made a final stop at a local cheese factory that had been started by Italian immigrants. The cheese was excellent and we were happy to buy a block before moving on. Opting for the shorter route back, rather than back over the pass, we hiked four kilometers down the road to the intersection where we could catch a bus.

The bus in question was actually a Toyota van. As it stopped, I didn’t think we could possibly all fit in but somehow we managed. Everyone shifted to make space and Kristel ended up in the front seat by a window while I was squeezed into the very back row with Chester. As I sat back, I counted that there were 16 people and 1 dog in the van. I thought it would be quite a ride and it was. The steep bumpy road didn’t deter our driver in the least and, as we trundled along, the congestion and lack of air movement made for a less than comfortable ride. I envied Kristel her window. More surprising, though, was that our driver continued to pick up passengers and we fit even more people in a van than I ever thought possible. Before reaching Nebaj we peaked at 25 people plus Chester in the van. I literally couldn’t move and was surprised and pleased at how well Chester took it all. He had squeezed himself into a tiny ball on the floor for the duration. Once we were in town I thought the excitement was over but not quite. When we attempted one particularly steep hill, the overloaded van just powered out. After a couple of runs at it, about half of the passengers hopped out to lighten the load and help push the van. As we crested the hill everyone piled back in as if nothing had happened. We made it to the plaza and everyone piled out once more. We had survived our first Central American bus ride!

The next day was market day in Nebaj and we wandered the stalls filled with everything from traditional dresses, electronics, fresh meat and produce to shoes and hardware. For lunch, we ducked into a local restaurant that had been recommended in a guide book. It was almost full with locals but we found a table and enjoyed our best meal in Guatemala, pollo en champiñónes (chicken with mushrooms). It was delicious and we now have renewed hope for Guatemalan cuisine.