Saturday 27 February 2010 - Militant teachers and rivers of lava

Having recovered from our illness, we returned to lessons for our final week studying Spanish. However, when we totted up all of the things that we had planned to do before we left Antigua, suddenly our days were looking very full indeed. We decided to cram in as much as we could, and so in seven days, as well as studying Spanish for 20 hours (plus homework), we:

• Took our first salsa class where I shambled around like a slow witted giraffe in an attempt to move my hips to the rhythm;
• Climbed to the top of a hill overlooking the city allowing Lisa to take several hundred photographs;
• Explored the myriad ruined churches in town and worried about the magnitude of the earthquakes that ruined them;
• Climbed an active volcano (Volcan Pacaya), complete with river of lava that we were allowed to go alarmingly close to (see picture);
• Finally enjoyed our belated Valentine's dinner at a swanky restaurant;
• Saw some of the Antiguan celebrations of lent including huge ornate carpets of coloured sawdust depicting religious and natural scenes on the floors of the local churches. Also part of the festivities was a procession of hundreds of people through the streets carrying a ridiculously large statue of Christ resisting temptation from the devil;
• Returned (like gluttons for punishment) to Antigua F.C. for our second match and were rewarded with a 1-0 victory and the discovery that women will bring you a hot individual pizza to your seat for less than 1 pound. Genius.

After managing all that, as well as saying goodbye to our teachers (Ana and Mariesol), our Guatemalan family (Cornelia, Irma, Lionel and Luis Enrique) and our new friends (Rob, Sannee, Ines and Cathy) we were almost exhausted before we hit the road for our nightmare journey to Coban. The travel agent that we had booked our shuttle bus with assured us that we would arrive in Coban in the early afternoon after a 5 or 6 hour journey. Little could he have known the calamities that awaited us. Just over an hour out of Antigua our bus was instructed to leave the highway by a police officer that seemed to be employing an arbitrary system as to which vehicles could pass through his road block and which needed to adhere to it. This forced us through the outskirts of Guatemala City and into heavy traffic. After around an hour crawling along at 10 miles per hour we came to a complete standstill where we remained on our tiny un-airconditioned bus in the baking sunshine for two and a half hours. And the cause of the traffic? A terrible accident perhaps or some major roadworks? A teacher's strike. Although it was tricky to understand exactly what was going on (my Spanish still needs an awful lot of work) it seemed that teachers in Central America are a militant bunch not adverse to blocking highways to get their point across. When we finally got moving again and passed the barricades (which the strikers had, by then, rather genteelly moved to the other carriageway) we saw that it was constructed from just a few large tractor tyres and manned by a smallish number of protesters comfortably outnumbered by policemen. It seems Guatemalan teachers are not to be trifled with.

Having cleared that obstacle and following a break for lunch at the all conquering Guatemalan fried chicken franchise Pollo Campero, we returned to our bus to find that it now had a flat tyre. This necessitated a further hour and a half whilst a chap removed the wheel and then fixed the inner tube (confusingly using a file). As we crawled towards Coban (and were caught in more jams including one amidst a cloud of black flies) it became very clear that our projected afternoon arrival time was not going to materialise. We finally rolled in at 7:30pm, our 5 or 6 hour journey had taken more than 11 exhausting hours.

Our sleep that evening was not as peaceful as we had hoped as we were awoken at 5am by a fairly alarming earthquake (which we later learned had measured 5.6 on whatever scale they use to measure earthquakes these days) and then a smaller aftershock a few hours later. There was no real damage in Coban although a few places lost electricity (not surprising looking at some of the bonkers wiring in the streets. Thankfully our day in Coban provided some much needed respite. We visited an excellent orchid farm where we saw hundreds of plants and some wonderfully intricate flowers (as well as tasting fresh cardamom for the first time). We then went on to a coffee plantation where we saw the entire (surprisingly laborious) process from plant to cup and then finished off with a delicious cup of joe whilst looking out over the coffee fields.

From here it was something of a dash through Guatemala's highlights. First on the list was the natural splendor of Semuc Champey. This consists of an odd natural phenomenon where a river disappears underground into a large cave and re-emerges 300 or so metres further on. Above ground this has meant that water coming down from the surrounding mountains has no river to enter and so forms a series of bright blue pools perfect for swimming (and general larking about). We hiked up to a viewpoint to see the whole complex of pools (see picture) and then went for a swim. Our guide took me and a couple of others off to jump off waterfalls and explore more of the site whilst Lisa and the rest of the group stayed behind to relax in the cool water. It was a fun day completed by a visit to a local complex of caves (complete with bat colony) and a night in a shack in the jungle.

Our next calling point on our whistle-stop tour was somewhere that I had been looking forward to for weeks. When we first thought of coming to Central America, one of the big draws for me was the possibility of seeing ancient temples poking out from dense jungle. This was exactly what I had been promised from the mother of all Mayan ruins, Tikal. We awoke in the picturesque city of Flores at the ungodly hour of 4am in order to arrive at the ruins around day break when the wildlife is at its most active. We were not disappointed. Tikal was everything I had hoped for - spider monkeys swang in the trees whilst all manner of brightly coloured birds filled the air with their songs. We walked amongst the jungle and then emerged at huge temples from the top of which we could look out over the forest canopy. Also, since we arrived so early in the morning, for the first few hours the site was more or less deserted. Lisa and I sat alone at the top of huge Mayan temple and ate our breakfast. Add to this the realisation that Tikal is one of the locations for Star Wars (see here) and you have the ingredients for a wonderful day. The trip to Guatemala would have been worth it for Tikal alone.

Wasting no time, the next day we were on the road again to the riverside town of Rio Dulce for the much vaunted boat ride to the isolated town of Livingston. The journey was absolutely spectacular - the jungle was dense right up to the water's edge and was teeming with birdlife. Pelicans, comorants and herons flew alongside the boat whilst children paddled up in small canoes to sell shells to us. It was the sort of boat journey you would imagine in an Indiana Jones or Tomb Raider movie.

As soon as we reached our destination the contrast with the rest of Guatemala was apparent. Livingston is a town populated largely by Garifuna people - black people who came ashore from the Caribbean many years ago to settle here. Hence the feel of Livingston is very different with reggae playing in every bar and women asking every five minutes if Lisa and I would like our hair braided. We will stay here for one more night to get more of a feel for the place before rolling on again.

14 February 2010 - Sickness strikes Valentine's Day

Our second week in Antigua was much less fun than our first. We continued with Spanish lessons and my vocabulary and ability to communicate certainly improved although after two weeks, conversations with my teacher Ana are beginning to become a little strained. There are only a finite number of conversations that you can have with a limited number of words and a grasp of only the present tense. An explanation of the London congestion charging scheme was something of a tour de force on my behalf, but then, with a sudden burst of over confidence, I over-reached myself with an attempted explanation of the British Freedom of Information Act (ambitious, particularly as I don't have a particularly thorough understanding of it myself). Cue lots of blank looks and shoulder shrugs before an awkward silence and then a swift return to learning verb endings. Lessons are still interesting though and I continue to enjoy the challenge.

As part of school on Wednesday we took an impromptu trip to a small local snake and reptile house. They had an excellent variety of creatures which our guide helpfully ranked for us in terms of deadliness. At the end of the tour we had the chance to hold some of the animals - I held a large tarantula (see picture) and Lisa got her hands on a bright red snake. However the most affecting part of the visit for all involved was the sight of a fluffy bunny rabbit hopping around happily in a glass case whilst above him slept two enormous boa constrictors. The rabbit, we learned, was to be dinner for the snakes when they got around to crushing him to death. Didn't go down well with the girls...

The reason for the less pleasant edge to the week reared its ugly head on Thursday. On coming home from a local bar (where I promise I'd only had three beers) I was struck down with flu like symptoms and endured a horrible sleep free night. The next day I was forced to miss school whilst I recovered in bed. My condition had picked up enough by Friday for me to return to lessons, but by then Lisa had fallen sick and was unable to come along. Friday also saw my visit to a local doctor in order to try to resolve a blocked ear that has been driving me increasingly bonkers - his repeated attempts to blast warm water into my ear with equipment that he described as 'dinosaur' (presumably meaning old rather than highly dangerous) were unsuccessful - I will return for a second attempt next week and will hopefully recover my powers of hearing then.

As the weekend dawned Lisa and I were hopeful that we would recover our health enough to enjoy some R&R and a nice Valentine's Day dinner. Unfortunately we just couldn't shake the remenants of the illness and so spent the majority of Saturday and Sunday convalescing in our room. Our romantic dinner was reduced to a tentative hamburger in a desperate attempt to find some familiar food that would be gentle on our stomachs. We then returned to our room to watch a film on our laptop only to discover two hours in that the last ten minutes had for some reason been cut off leaving our heroes stranded in space and sorely lacking a conclusion to their adventures. So it was that we took to our bed early to shake the last effects of our illness. Who says romance is dead?

Here's hoping our third and final week in Antigua sees our health and spirits pick up.

P.S. Should mention that Valentine's day wasn't without some joy: Lisa bought me a year long subscription to Newcastle United TV meaning that I can now watch all the goals and highlights as the Toon attempt to regain their Premier League status. This was a truly selfless act by Lisa as now not only do I monopolise the computer when we have internet access, but she is forced to smile pleaseantly as I spin the computer round to show her Andy Carroll shambling into the penalty area to prod a ball past a hapless Coventry City goalkeeper. Romance dead? Never.

Sunday 7 February 2010 - Yo hablo un poco espanol

We have now completed our first week of studying Spanish in Antigua and I have certainly improved my language skills (although they could hardly have gotten worse). We have been having four hours of one on one tuition each day (from 8am to noon) and although my progress has been a little slow (largely due to the sheer volume of vocabulary, verb endings and grammar rules to learn) I am definitely improving. I can now at least communicate basic ideas in a rudimentary way which would have been jolly useful in my conversation with a 12 year old last week. Lisa's Spanish also seems to be progressing apace - she is remembering lots of what she learned in Mexico in 2003 and formalising some of what she picked up there.

The school has also arranged for us to stay with a Guatemalan family whilst we study here - we have settled in quite well although it's still difficult for me as my Spanish is a long way from conversational. Thankfully though much of the language barrier has been bridged by food. As part of our stay we are served 3 meals a day much of which has been made up of typical Guatemalan cuisine. This has provided us with plenty of opportunities for conversation as we try to understand the nature of a strange Guatemalan vegetable or work out how Irma (who prepares the bulk of our meals) manages to make the incredible refried beans that appear on our table most days.

Antigua itself is something of a strange place. It sits on a flat piece of land between three volcanoes (the placid Volcanes de Agua (see picture) and Acatenango and the forever grumbling and smoking Volcan Fuego) which makes the town's setting spectacular. The population of the town is what makes it peculiar - the thriving language school scene in Guatemala very much has its heart in Antigua resulting in the city being awash with people learning Spanish. Add into this mix a prosperous tourist industry and a not insignificant American ex-pat community and you have a Guatemalan town whose very 'Guatemalan-ness' has been diluted (not unlike some of the tourist towns in the south of Spain).

This has, however, suited us pretty well - we are getting plenty of genuine Guatemalan chat at home and with our teachers at school so it is quite nice to have some western luxuries in town. These include a thriving coffee shop scene and a McDonald's restaurant that is outstandingly lovely. I have often scoffed at the use of the term 'restaurant' to describe McDonald's franchises, but the branch in Antigua (the first one we've been to in a long time) is amazing. It has mahogany coloured furniture, a huge open air courtyard (complete with topiary), a free internet cafe for customers and table service in its coffee shop. Eating there was really quite a pleasant experience (something of a change of gear from the Chelmsley Wood branch).

Other things we've been up to this week include:

• A (less than spectacular) visit to a macadamia farm;
• A visit to a local indigenous village with which our school has a charitable relationship. A particular highlight was when, halfway through explaining the local traditions and clothing, our guide had to stop to answer her mobile phone;
• Watching Antigua FC (who play in the second tier of Guatemalan football) grind out one of the dullest 0-0 draws it has ever been my displeasure to watch. In the second half it seemed that both teams could think of nothing worse than staging an attack on their opponents goal;
• Enjoying the Antiguan nightlife with a few of the local beers imaginatively entitled Gallo (cockerel) and Cabro (goat).

We plan on staying in Antigua for two more weeks to further develop our Spanish skills (and enjoy more of those beans). Maybe I can convince Lisa to give Antigua FC a second chance...

30 January 2010 - Loopy borders and impossible conversations

It was difficult to tear ourselves away from the beach, but after three nights the road was calling again. A taxi, three buses and an overnight stay later we found ourselves in the mountain town of San Cristobal de las Casas, probably the best example of a Mexican town handling the tourist trade well. Although there are lots of bars, restaurants and local handicraft shops (and a large local artisan's market) the town maintains a distinct local character, helped out by the fact that some Mexicans visit as tourists, not only foreigners. We spent some time exploring the markets, looking in churches and generally breathing in the local atmosphere. The local markets here are on to a winner selling hats, socks, mittens and jumpers to tourists who, having come from warmer climes, are unprepared for the distinctly chilly evenings. Having been in Canada not too long ago the frigid mountain air still felt positively balmy to us - I didn't even need my thermals.

On our final day in San Cristobal we took a tour of the unique indigenous Mayan village of San Juan Chamula. In order to get there we first took a ride in a purple VW beetle (with classic 80's rock pumping on the stereo) and then met our guide, 16 year old Juan, and our trusty steeds for the day - two fairly tired looking horses. This was my first ever riding experience and it wasn't exactly problem free. Namely:

• Wooden saddles are very unforgiving indeed;
• The old problem of being tall in Mexico arose again as both Lisa and I had our feet grazing the ground (and various rocks and bushes) on uphill sections;
• Lisa's horse, Colorado, was not particularly responsive to instructions, frequently getting a little up close and personal with the other horses;
• The sun in the mountains is deceptively strong - I ended up a less than delicate shade of pink.

The town itself was interesting - the locals beliefs blend Mayan and Catholic traditions meaning that although the church looks quite ordinary from the outside, inside the floor is covered with green palm fronds and people sacrifice chickens and drink soft drinks in order to burp and release evil spirits. But, as ever with indigenous villages, visiting was not without its problems. Most unfortunate was the feeling of tourists looking at the locals as if it were a zoo - turning up to see the local dress and rituals for the afternoon before heading back to their hotels. The locals seemed to bear this as a necessary evil (as tourists bring much needed cash) but with an understandable lack of pleasure. After whipping round the town for an hour it was back on our horses (including a short ill advised gallop), back in the beetle (more rock classics) and back to the hostel to wile away the rest of the afternoon talking to our parents (Skype really is excellent) and making plans for the trip ahead.

Bright and early the next morning, we boarded our minibus for the Guatemalan border and the next stage of our adventure. If the journey to the border was uneventful, the trip from there onwards was anything but. As we approached the border, the roads were suddenly thick with people and lined with market stalls. We disembarked from our minibus and walked the last few hundred metres in order to cross over in to Guatemala on foot. Unfortunately, our bus driver who was supposed to guide us to the border did not show any consideration for his passengers being laden with large backpacks and went dancing off into the hubbub at speed. In trying to keep pace with him, Lisa, unsighted by backpacks and the crowd, rolled her ankle, managing to grab our fleeing guide in order to break her fall. She hobbled on and we made it to the passport check point in one piece.

My perception of international borders has always been much the same: sterile places with heavy official presences that one just tries to get through with (hopefully) the minimum of fuss. It's safe to say that the border at La Mesilla defied this stereotype. Whilst we waited to have our passports stamped, locals merrily walked backwards and forwards past the barriers without showing any paperwork. People were literally going to Guatemala for a taco and then back to Mexico for an ice cream. It was excellent.

When we finally got moving again (our bus waited for an hour or so for other passengers) we were suddenly plunged into stunning scenery - the road weaved through valleys flanked on either side by unfeasibly steep mountainsides covered in lush green forest. It was exactly as I'd imagined Central America in my mind's eye. After a few more hours of traveling, we rounded a turn in the road and got our first glimpse of our destination - Lago di Atatlan. The lake is located high up in the mountains and on one side is bordered by two impressive volcanoes - it was quite a sight.

Our first night at the lake was spent in Panajachel, a very touristy, but very fun little town. We had arrived on the bus with a British chap called Mike who we went for beer and dinner with that evening. The latter consisted of sitting around a small street stall whose name translated as 'Smoke Gets in Your Eyes.' This was quite literally the case as we sat around a charcoal grill as two women prepared sausages, chorizo, chicken and pork. Served up with guacamole, tortillas and a carrot side dish (all for the princely sum of 1 pound 50) it was delicious. However, the best part about dinner was listening to Mike conversing (in his fluent Spanish) to the ladies working at the grill and the chap sitting next to us. Lisa was able to follow the conversation and pitch in, but for me it was a case of grabbing what snippets I could understand. The experience only intensified my desire to learn at least some Spanish.

This feeling was multiplied the following morning. Having taken a boat across the lake to the small village of San Marcos La Laguna, Lisa went to look for somewhere to stay whilst I waited with the bags close to the docks. Almost as soon as Lisa was out of sight I was approached by two young girls (who I later learnt to be 12 and 14). They didn't want me to buy anything or to give them money - it was much worse than that - they wanted to chat. The conversation was difficult to say the least (my Spanish vocabulary being limited to around 50 words) but we muddled along somehow helped in no small part by Antonia's (the younger of the two girls) tendency to happily monologue for five or ten minutes at a time. Rarely have I been as relieved as when Lisa arrived back.

We checked into our hotel (a very funky affair - all new age chic and stained glass) and set about relaxing and enjoying the lake - first off though we thought we would explore the village. It was here, more than anywhere else, that the contradiction of the place struck us. On the lake shore were a number of small hotels and hostels similar to ours along with other new age style places offering alternative therapies, meditation, massage and month long spiritual discovery retreats running in time with the lunar cycle. Alongside all of this was an ordinary Guatemalan village complete with avocado trees, coffee bushes and a dusty football field. The locals seemed to view the tourists with a kind of weariness (almost all of the businesses were owned by westerners) as they saw other people coming to their town and making all of the money whilst the best that they could hope for were a few fringe benefits (increased sales on fruit stalls, a job at one of the hotels). This gave the place a feeling of unreality and not necessarily a pleasant one.

It was good therefore to see a local woman castigating one of the western travelers for making an inordinate amount of noise one evening down on the beach. The locals, it seemed, would put up with a certain amount of odd behaviour from visitors, but they had their limits. As for us, we just did our best to enjoy the place (and made a pretty good fist of it) spending our days swinging in hammocks, listening to music and swimming in the lake. From here we leave for Antigua, our base for three weeks of intensive Spanish study - hopefully on my next encounter with a Spanish speaking twelve year old I won't feel such a half-wit.