Jon and I woke up early to jump on a speedboat back to the Belizian mainland, skimming over the turquoise water and packed in to the boat like sardines (it’s more ecological to have fewer safety regulations it seems…). We made it in to Belize City just in time to catch the chicken bus toGuatemala. The tickets were sold to us by a single Indian guy who just hung about the tiny port, but the whole operation seemed to work incredibly smoothly; there seem to be these chains that extend all round the classic tourist routes and once you find them they’ll take you like a river to exactly where you want to go. I mean, the ride was bumpy as hell, but we got across the Guatemalan border and were picked up by a pre arranged taxi that made pre planned stops at ATMs and other coach stations where “friends of friends” would sell you tickets to wherever you needed to go to next – we even got taken to a hotel and asked what time we would like to be picked up to see the ruins (wow are tourists predictable or what?!). I really couldn’t believe how efficient these informal networks were, particularly since Guatemala appeared to be noticeably more bumpy, poverty stricken and chaotic as we crossed the border. Anyhow, we were taken to a tiny island called Flores which is situated in central north Guatemala and surrounded by a deep lake. After our 8 hour coach journey Jon and I jumped straight in the water – I thought it might have been cold because the sky was overcast and the water was as still and grey as a mirror – but it was actually warm, thick and silky. Then we headed up the hill for some dinner in the main square and saw the most beautiful bright pink sunset over the lake – I mean, people often describe water as taking on a different colour but this was something else – it was such a deep shade of pink it was almost unnatural and it covered the damp cobbled streets and soaked the buildings and silhouetted the birds flying everywhere. Before Jon and I even had a chance to take a breath, we were swept up in this huge catholic festival where the entire village turned out to see a parade of dancers, fireworks, singers, brass bands…we couldn’t believe our luck! Some of the pieces were fantastic – pyramids of Guatemalan girls in cheerleading outfits springing from a standing position from one back to another – kind of strangely mock American but with a bit of Central American sass. Jon was also bowled over by a set of Guatemalan girls in flamenco outfits who surrounded him for a photo – you can actually see the blood rushing to his head and his knees giving way in the picture, “They were just too much for me Man!” (Jon, 2006).
The next morning we got up early to catch our efficiently pre arranged bus to Tikal from outside our hotel. Tikal is about an hour’s drive away; a set of Guatemalan ruins set in the deep rainforest. I’ve never been in forest like that before; you can here the howler monkeys as loud and ferocious as lions, you pass neon orange caterpillars, terrifyingly mechanical looking spiders with metallic legs, dangling vines, twisted tree roots that are so contorted they look like surrealist creatures… and the mosquitoes! Jon got bitten over 20 times on just one forearm by these ubba bugs. As if all this wasn’t enough, set right in the heart of this crazy setting is an ancient Mayan city full of towering limestone pyramids that you can climb up on to via rickety makeshift wooden ladders. At the top of Temple IV you can see this huge blanket of deep green rainforest with the peaks of these giant structures just peering out over the top like dinosaurs in a lake – it really is breathtaking. When we finally made it back to Flores I was exhausted – but Jon had set his heart on this motorbike idea and in the end we hired one. I was so glad we did though – we drove all round the island of Flores (even if it is just 2 miles long at its widest point) and then drove deep in to the Guatemalan countryside around the lake. The bumpy paths were filled with deep muddy puddles from the periodic downpours and Jon and I got absolutely caked in mud as we went up and down the hills that were filled with greenery, little vegetable patches and kids faces peering out at you from behind every post. Riding out in to the sunset felt fantastically like a scene out of Motorcycle diaries or something! To start with I thought all of the Guatemalans living in the surrounding countryside might be a bit hostile towards us because they all sort of stopped and stared as we passed – but they all broke in to a smile the second that you smiled at them. I think more than anything they just thought we looked a little absurd; covered in mud, swerving around and nearly crashing in to goats, chickens etc and grinning like maniacs.
As if that wasn’t enough for one day Jon and I then jumped on a night bus to Guatemala City. It was pretty extreme, particularly since I had acute diarrhoea and the only toilet consisted of a tin cell with a hole leading out on to the fast moving open road. We were met at Guatemala City with a man with a placard who took us straight to Antigua, which is where we are now. It’s an absolutely beautiful place with a load of Spanish colonial architecture, tucked in between 3 huge volcanoes. The air is really cool and clear up here because we are higher up and the whole place is set up for tourists; the shop order goes hotel, language school, internet café, laundrette, coach company, food place and then repeats. Still, I haven’t seen much of it yet because I have spent the last day and a half in bed trying to recover and being exceptionally poor company for Jon. Here’s to being well…
