After a prolonged period of surf, eat, sleep, repeat I was starting to really see an improvement in my surfing but I just could not help I was missing so much more of these countries other than the beach/rocky points. Time for my third inland trip of my travels: Guatemala’s ruins and natural beauty awaited.
After an already long 6hr trip was turned into an 9hr one – an ageing stuck in the mud hippy cyclist who knew nothing about cycling or getting the correct paperwork to cross boarders; the mind you immediately take a glance at and understand there’s going to be difficulty – we arrived, with a police escort in Antigua.
Immediately the city grabbed my attention. We arrived in the rain pelted Central Parque which was teaming with people in the Spanish colonial arcades that enclosed this newly revamped classical square. With lit up colonnades and a magnificent half ruined cathedral at one end I knew I had made the right decision, checked into my room had a beer on the rather wet roof terrace and collapsed in bedroom that didn’t require and fan or AC – I slept well.
It’s hard not to include many pictures of ruined colonial churches surround by volcanoes, this city by day was just as intriguing.
Damaged by several earthquakes the latest in 1976 quake, with a magnitude of 7.5 Mw, and with one of the volcanoes still active I’m not sure what more you need but it also has a thriving art and food scene. Explosive.
Three visits worth mentioning:
- Cerro de crux; what a view over the city of volcanoes and earthquakes. Apparently dangerous but I never once felt threatened go in the day, I’d suggest a tuk tuk to the top (but walk in) and then walk down!
2. The monastery: a left over ruin with a concentric circular plan for the monastic cells and a beautiful courtyard.
- The chocolate museum: learn about the history and how chocolate is made then sit down for a hot chocolate like no other; bowls of raw chocolate paste, honey and chilli which you mix to your own preference in a suitable authentic hug and accompanying milk accompanied with banana bread from Dona Luisa Xicoteneatl (best ever I went next door after and bought a loaf!).
Then after a night or two out – and spending the next day recovering, falling asleep in, the dark Colonial Art Museum, because they couldn’t turn the lights on due to the rain…it was time to go deeper into Guatemala and a very very cold overnight bus later I arrived at an island in the middle of a lake; Flores. From here I was to visit Tikal.
Tikal, despite its appearance in the first ever Star Wars film, is hard to describe. Still surrounded by jungle and with the same natural energy of ancient past it cannot fail to make an impression.
One bribed guard and sunset later I was on my way again – time was running out the forecast for surf was building – Semuc Champey was the next stop and for the first time I truly found myself on a backpacker trail sharing a packed minibus with three loud occa Aussies, two kiwis and a man from Derbyshire. After two hours of the guess who game, the counting of speed bumps, everyone’s favourite colour, I had to resort to my Spanish lessons. 8hrs of my life never to return but when we pulled in Lanquin, I had to wait a few more hours till another bus arrived (that had left from the same place but took longer) to take me to the idyll that was Semuc Champey.
This place at night was beautiful, the next day was going to be good.
A word on stereotypes; they are what the word imbibes – a typical representation of their type, culture and country. Or a for perhaps a more acute way of putting this can be found in the Urban Dictionary: ‘A stereotype is used to categorize a group of people. People don’t understand that type of person, so they put them into classifications, thinking that everyone who is that needs to be like that, or anyone who acts like their classifications is one.”
It has also since been pointed out to me on a recent long car ride that the very fact I am writing a blog of my travels is in fact also a stereotype and something until then had escaped my recognition – oh well, onwards regardless.
Perhaps the most astounding, so called stereotypes I have met yet are the Americans. Now this may be because I am more used to Australians but these guys and gals fit their bill to a T. Bold brash and loud they instantly tick all the boxes until you actually spend some time with them, then they begin to surprise and delight.
On this occasion when we entered the reserve of Semuc Champey and started to follow the sweaty trail to the base of a set of steps that disappeared vertiginously up the side of a rock face, these two american girls looked up and wondered what they had got themselves into, exclaiming that they were glad they hadn’t worn their flip flops today – quarter of the way up and they were resting every 10-20 steps and guzzling water with brilliant loud expressions of exhaustion! Whilst instantly being a stereotype they instantly added a humour to the pretty nasty sweat drenching climb and subsequent drenching of a thunderstorm.
The series of turquoise pools at Semuc Champey seemed to overflow with the same hidden flowing energy of the river that was gushing beneath us and charged the atmosphere of beauty with something only equalled by standing amongst the ruins of Tikal. You dived into the crystal water to swim float and slide down the interconnecting pools marvelling at the clarity and jungle covered mountain setting, a must if you ever come and visit this country.
But our day was no to end there our guide rushed us back for lunch then to, as is the case in most of these situations, an innocuous entrance into a cave system. He calmly handed us an orange, somewhat homemade candle, lit them all for us and walked on into the darkness. Wow, if ever there was a lesson in how health and safety has stripped the romance and sense of adventure out of fun, this was it! Quickly we were up to our waists in cold water, then our chests then we were swimming, or trying to swim with one hand wobblingly held aloft with the candle spluttering and dripping wax onto our hands. the comments such as “oh my fu<*ing sh1t this is scary” from the American girls made it all the more authentic and on we went deeper in to the system climbing ladders swimming through pools, climbing waterfalls via a knotted rope until we reached a rock jump. Yes, a rock jump in the semi darkness into a pool of water that was pitch black. I can’t really describe the feeling when seeing the first person, Ankit, make the leap barely missing the roof of the cave with his head only to plunge into the blackness below and reappear with ‘sense of relief’ smeared all across his face.
About turn then, I took up the rear guard with Ankit and revelled in the blackness that was now engulfing us from behind. Easy we though back the same way; – no – back down the waterfall, swim across a few pools, up a ladder and out but no. We took a left turn and squeezed through a gap to be confronted with our guide pointing down a water chute that made us all wonder if he was crazy – the american girls didn’t hesitate, through they went first and to screams of “what the ..” we knew it would all be ok and we would make it back to the light.
That done this day was not over and grabbing lorry car inner tubes we gladly bought some cans of beer climbed in them and had 20 minutes of serene beer drinking floating down the river – bliss. A short walk back up the path to more uncontrollable discussions between the two girls about laser surgery to the bums and we were home. What an a mazing day and thank you to all who made it so.
The next day it was back to Antigua up a very bumpy stone/rubble road for three hours on a wooden seat covered in plastic and wedged in-between seats in the aisle. But even my numb cramped but cheeks could not put a dent in the adventures of Guatemala with my inland journey having met all my expectations and more with yet more to come.
Next step was a return to the ocean.
Kinder