Thursday, 1 August 2013

Could we organise a p*ss up in a brewery?

So the past couple of weeks have been a mixture of the sublime and the complete ridiculous as we bumbled our way through Costa Rica to Panama City in record and unplanned time, just going to show that even experienced backpacker's can completely balls it up!

So we were leaving Nicaragua full of excitement at the prospect visiting Costa Rica and its plethora of untamed rainforest and wildlife. We arranged for an early morning taxi to take us to the border and the plan was to walk over ourselves and then find a bus to take us to our first destination just a few hours away.
The initial exit from Nicaragua went as smoothly as these things do and whilst I stood around in that 'no man's land' between borders the ticket conductor of a well known and safe bus company approached me and offered us a lift to the very town we needed to get to before changing to head into the mountains. Given that this particular bus only passes through once per day we were not about to turn down such a good offer so we gratefully accepted this lucky break which would turn out to be the first of many that made our shambolic attempt at traveling over the next few days not so painful as it otherwise could've have been.
Mistake number 1 was realised as we boarded the bus to be taken to the Costa Rican entry point when the bus conductor told us to have our passport and exit ticket ready for inspection by immigration. Excuse me, exit ticket??
We looked at each other with an expression of, "Oh Sh*t!". We had no idea that an exit ticket was required but given that we had managed to get ourselves into the USA without one we were confident that we could talk our way in.
Well we couldn't!
Every foreigner was given a grilling at immigration and with no exit ticket from the country you were not getting in. At this point we were getting a little anxious but no overly so; if we were rejected we would only need to find some WIFI and buy something as cheap as possible because we just needed something to get us in.
In the end it did all work out but not quite as would've liked. With an exit ticket we would've been granted 90 days to explore the country; having no ticket and therefore being undesirable we were allowed to stay for 5 days!!

We got onto the bus wondering what we were going to do in 5 days and how we would get ourselves to Panama with at least seeing something of note.
At first we thought to just carry on as planned, visit the mountain forests of Monteverde and then figure it out. As the bus pulled away we studied the maps and realised that this would be folly, getting there and away and then trying to get through the country in our allocated time was crazy talk - remember, we were already using up day 1 and day 5 would be wasted getting to Panama.
As luck would have it, being in the right place at the right time and being offered a random lift on this bus meant that all I had to do was walk up to the driver and tell him that we would continue onto the capital San Jose, taking us 4 hours travel further into the heart of the country where we could then sort out our next move as well as eliminate some of the distance required to get to Panama.

After our extended and unexpected journey we arrived into Costa Rica's capital city and got a cab over to the most decent sounding hostel in the guide book. The hostel itself was really nice and know you are in a safe place when you read that it is also a Human Rights office and the walls of your room are dedicated to Martin Luther King and are covered in his articles and quotes.
I also had a dream Martin, it was to spend more than 5 days in Costa Rica - looks like you won, sort of.
Being human rights oriented also meant hippies, equalling breastfeeding older ladies sat on the stairs and you having to sort of step over them and their exposed boob to get out.
Day 1 in Costa Rica was supposed to end with us breathing in the fresh and cool air of the cloud forests of Monteverde but instead we were walking about in a crazy hot and humid capital city, but it was actually ok. San Jose was nothing like I imagined it to be, I was expecting a busy Latin and possibly edgy place but it was clean, very developed in the sense of being overly western and felt completely safe - just a really pleasant place and it would've have been nice to spend more time here; however for once time really was not on our side.
Travel days are always notorious for being bad food wise so we planned to make up for it with a healthy dinner in the city. It was now that our measly 5 days in Costa Rica possibly became a blessing in disguise. Costa Rica is a US tourism hotspot meaning that the prices of everything from accommodation to food is over-priced and we all know that for some stupid reason eating healthily is a lot more expensive than eating McDonald's. Therefore, our dinner that night was not as good for us as planned - but it tasted good and at least it wasn't McD's!

After a brief walk around the capital under the darkening skies we returned to the safety of the hostel and Reverend King and set about deciding where we would spend our 3 days.
We definitely had options and it was a shame deciding between nesting sea turtles and night-time safaris to spot pumas but we had to factor in the time of getting in and out of these places as well as juggling our budget.
In the end we both came to the same conclusion with some ease - we would head to the north east coast close to the Panama border (may as well make life easy at the same time) and ensure that we got to see one of THE animals we definitely wanted to come into contact with on this tour of the Americas; the sloth.

The next day we took the bus to the coastal town of Puerto Viejo and by 2pm we were very happy with the decisions that we had made. We stayed at the Coconut Grove Hostel, a really bright and clean place that had the bonus of finally having a good kitchen in which we could cook. Also the town was just one of those places where you feel that you could quite easily hang about for a couple of weeks and enjoy the eclectic mix of stores, market stalls, eateries, Rastafarians and the smell of 'erb in the streets. Even better was that we were in that very special natural environment of having the rainforest all around us that only comes to an abrupt end because of the ocean.


The Coconut Grove Hostel


The local Aussie Bar



The following day was the highlight of our Costa Rican 'city break' (I have spent the same amount of time on a break to Rome) and probably would have been top of the list even if we had have stayed for longer. We took the local bus 30kms along the coast to a mangrove area that served as the setting of the Sloth Sanctuary.
We wanted to ensure we did this one thing properly so we booked onto the Insider's Tour - oooohhhh.
The Sloth Sanctuary is a family run institution and we were actually in presence of greatness, as far as sloths go. Her grandson and guide Jeffery told us that she is the sloth equivalent of Jane Goodall (Gorilla's in the Mist), nobody knows more about them.
When she moved to Costa Rica from the US in the 1980's a local brought her an injured sloth for no other reason that as she was western she might know how to save it. From that first sloth, successfully saved (her name was Buttercup, and we met her) more and more sloths were brought to her for help and the sanctuary that currently has over 150 sloths grew from there. A vast majority of the 150 are now residents and can't be released back into the wild and a lot of it has to do with humans being complete c*nts.
There is nobody else on this planet that knows more about the sloth, a lot of which is still unknown, which is why David Attenborough has visited as well as Animal Planet and the Discovery Channel.
Our tour began with an introduction to Buttercup, who appeared very blasé in our presence and then moved onto the education part of the tour with the rest of the public or 'Non Insiders' where we got to touch our first sloth, in a completely plutonic way, as well view some youngsters, again all above board.
The Insiders (that would be just me and AJ) were then 'whisked' away for lunch and in the 35 degree heat and 100% humidity were treated to cream of asparagus soup followed by a grilled cheese sandwich - an odd combination and not really welcome in such temperatures even though it was tasty.
After lunch it was time for the mangrove and jungle river cruise - an hour of being rowed through very narrow and mosquito infested waterways by a captain who either had one eye or kept falling asleep because we kept hitting the banks head on or passing through creepy crawly filled low hanging bushes that should have been avoided. Still, it was all good and we got to see Howler monkeys, hundreds of crabs, some luminous orange and blue, a tree frog which I had to duck to avoid touching because we were in a bush at this point, some lizards and a jumping spider that plagued Arancha in her section of the boat for the entire trip.
The very relaxed Buttercup
Heading directly for another bush

Finally it was time for the good sh*t, the actual 'insiders' bit of the day. We were taken behind the scenes and here is where we got hands on with Samantha - a moment that will always be one of those special ones.
Just for information there are 2 fingered and 3 fingered sloths. 3 fingered have a flatter smiley looking boat (boat race = face) whereas the 2 fingered have more of a snout, bear-like boat.
Samantha is a 3 fingered sloth and more commonly found in Costa Rica whilst 2 fingered sloths are more common in the Amazon in south America.
It is hard to describe the feeling as Samantha slowly made her way over to each of us and actually herself made the signals to indicate that she wanted a cuddle - it was surreal and felt like a real honour to be able to get this close to such a magnificent and still mysterious species.
Even basic facts such as the gestation period of the sloth is still a mystery and we saw the live webcams set up by the Discovery Channel on one particular enclosure that was currently housing a rescued sloth found to be pregnant. As the primary objective is to treat the animal and release it if possible there is a chance that this sloth will be released before it gives birth as 'domesticating' it cannot be risked - which scientifically would be a bit of a bummer to miss the birth.







After the meet and greet with Samantha we were taken up into the actual house of the Sloth Queen to view the newborns in the incubators. These little bad boys were really cute and I was very surprised that when we did get back to the hostel that AJ didn't produce one from her bag; "Surprise!".
All in all it was a great day and is definitely up there as one of the best.



Unbelievably as I walked back to our hostel (AJ was shopping) I came across an actual wild 3 fingered sloth making its way from one tree to the next right in front of me - a seriously rare event as they don't move that much and so are hard to detect.
What a day! (And AJ also got to see it later)

Poison arrow frog
Already onto our final full day in Costa Rica we took the advice of Heidi, the complete stereotype German frauline owner of our hostel and hired bicycles to explore the surrounding area. The plan was to spend a whole day out and about but a torrential downpour wiped out our whole morning. However, this was not a problem for us because the rains brought out another local who we had wanted to see - the poison arrow frog. Although they can't kill a human coming into contact with one of these small and beautiful black and luminous green frogs can give you some nasty symptoms if you handle them and they feel threatened.

Once the skies cleared we belatedly hopped onto our bikes and headed off to find what Heidi promised us was 'paradise'. Unbelievably the first thing we came across on the bikes was another wild sloth high up in the trees and even better was that it was a 2 fingered sloth meaning that whereas it would be brilliant to see a sloth in the Amazon it now doesn't matter as we have seen both types in their natural habitat; as all wildlife should be.
Wild 2 fingered sloth
Wild 3 fingered sloth


Our piece of Costa Rican 'paradise' was the area of Punta Uva, a rugged piece of coast where you could look either side of you for as far as you could and see only jungle fringed beach with a river running out of the jungle wilderness to meet the ocean - yes Heidi you called it and you called it well!
Perfection
There is always room for football in paradise

That night was a full moon meaning that Rocking J's, a legendary party hostel in these parts was throwing its monthly full moon party. Having been told it was a party of epic proportions we were disappointed to find that the hostel was relatively empty due to low season and it would not be one of those nights. Still, I doubt it could've matched the original in Thailand but you never know.

That was that, our time in Costa Rica was up and we had to get out or face the consequences. Our brief time there was very positive and I know for sure that we will come back one day, but probably for a holiday because in order to get the most out of this country you need a lot of dosh.

Being only 40kms from the Panamanian border we didn't rush to get ourselves moving the next morning and fortunately it all worked out for us again.
The plan to catch the public bus to the border was dashed when we were told at the bus stop that there would be no buses for a few hours due to a student protest that was blocking the roads. Normally we might have decided to stay another night as we liked the town but we had to be out today.
Left with no other choice I decided to check with a few local tourist companies who were offering shuttles to the Bocas Islands in Panama and found that they could get us as far as the protest, we would then walk around the protest before jumping into a cab and carrying on to Panama.

By the way the students were protesting about the right to have free bus travel to school - I think that's a 'fare' cause. (Get it?)

I found a company who agreed a discounted rate to drop us off a town along the way to Bocas as we wanted to head south away from the Caribbean and because of our tardiness we would be on the delayed 8am bus that was now to depart in 1 hour (midday).
You would think that we might have learnt our lessons and I did check online and found no requirement for an onward ticket, so you can imagine my look when the woman booking our minibus told us that we would need one to get into Panama.
(By the way I now know that we definitely need one for Peru which is in 3 countries time - so I am learning!!)
Fortunately we had looked into our departure from Panama so I now had an hour to get online, book our exit, send a deposit and call the company to get them to send me a confirmation email stating both of our names and that we would be exiting Panama before then emailing it over to the lady to print it off for us.
It all went smoothly enough and we set off for the final country in central America with minimal fuss.
The traffic backlog at the protest was mental and seemed even more ridiculous when all that was blocking the road were about 40 students playing football or sitting about chatting with a barricade of banana plants.

Walking into Panama
Leaving all that behind we got to the border and were stamped out of Costa Rica before having to traverse the longest rickety bridge by foot with frequent views down to the open water below before being stamped into Panama.

Once again it was all as easy as peas and we were in country number 9, and they didn't even ask for proof of our onward journey! Tut tut.
At this point our lucky streak kicked in again because we were supposed to be dropped off in a town on the way to the harbour, for those traveling to the islands, but the driver forgot. When we realised that we were at the harbour we reminded him of our requirements and he was able to drop us at an alternative bus stop and within 5 minutes the hourly bus to Panama's second city of David turned up with only 2 spare seats.
If we'd have been dropped off as originally planned we would've missed it and it was already getting late - it isn't advisable to get to a new city after dark and sort out where you are going to stay.

The drive was longer than we realised but it didn't matter as we drove high up out of the humidity into the hills where it was fresh and were able to watch the sun set over this new land in a blaze of red glory. Panama has always been on my list of must visits and I have no idea why but I was really happy to be here.
Arriving in David we randomly chose a hotel out of the book as we just wanted to eat and rest before moving on again the next morning because this was purely a transit stop.

Bye bye finger
We decided that we would visit the mountain town of Boquete, the starting location for the Los Quetzales Trail - supposedly the most scenic walk in the whole of Panama and also home to the Quetzal bird, which I really wanted to see - so far I had only seen a stuffed one in the museum.
Boquete was not exactly as described in the book and was somewhat of a disappointment except for the bus ride there and seeing this blokes soon to be dead finger (see pic) - Ow!!

We were expecting more of a hilltop sanctuary with an authentic Panamanian feel but what we found was a town saturated with retired American's. Apparently a well known magazine published an article a few years ago describing Boquete as the perfect place to retire - so the yanks did just that. The only advantage of this happening was that they brought their need for home comforts with them so we were able to eat breakfast at a proper bakery with real bread (sorely missed) and go to a pub run by a really interesting American couple who met whilst they were both posted in the Antarctic for 5 years on scientific duties.
For me this remains the best thing about travel - you get to meet people whose experiences really open your mind up to the possibility of doing anything you want.

Unfortunately the weather didn't exactly do its part and a Tin-tin themed hostel can only do so much, so after 2 days of hanging about we decided to scrap the Los Quetzales Trail and head south to the Pacific coast for a few days of sun and beach action.
Hostel in Boquete
Our little house


It was now Friday 26th July and our boat to Colombia and a new continent (originally we were supposed to be there 3 months ago!) was booked for August 13th. We wanted to spend at least week exploring Panama City so that left about 10 days to explore the south coast and hopefully find a cabin on the beach with a kitchen and a hammock where we could sit around, chill and be self sufficient for a while.

Our first try was Playa Las Lajas and so began the next round of us sort of messing it up but being rescued by St Christopher and his travel magic - even though we don't believe in such hoodoo.
Back into the city of David we caught a bus to Las Lajas and didn't realise until we were dropped on the road side that the actual beach was a further 13kms away. Fortunately a taxi was on hand and being a decent guy he didn't rip us off and took us to the cheapest place along the beach. There really wasn't a lot of information online about where we could stay and upon arriving we knew why - it was deserted of all human existence.
We arrived at the Cabana Panama, basically 5 wooden huts and an open sided thatched bar on the beach. I am so gutted that this place was an absolute sh*thole because it could've been beautiful and just where we might have stayed for days and days.
Rusty key - says it all
The owners (a German guy and his one eyed Panamanian wife) were dirty and lazy and their property matched. They told us to wait whilst she cleaned the cabin and once we got in it was clear that she had been cleaning with the good eye always facing out of the door. How do you miss the clump of hair and cotton bud blocking the shower plug hole and all of the dirt on the floor and how long have you not cleaned for if everything is covered in cobwebs and on the walls where there aren't holes for the cockroaches to emerge at night there are trails upon sand trails from the ant colonies?
The front door key demonstrates it all!
If it was $10 per night then fair enough but $25 is taking the proverbial when we compare it to everywhere else we have been to in terms of price and cleanliness.

It was such a shame. Walking off the edge of the bar area you stepped onto a beach of epic proportions - miles and miles of nothingness; just sand, palms, vultures, driftwood and perfectly breaking waves with ample whitewash for beginner surfers like us to frolic in. There was nothing and nobody - how rare and special is that?
Knowing that we wanted to stay in this area we set about finding alternative lodgings and could find only 2 alternatives - both of which were not suitable. The other issue was that there was no tienda (shop) nearby for us to buy food meaning that we were at the mercy of our cabin owners, which at this point was not a happy prospect.
I think AJ also wanted to hang around to play with the 4 puppies that followed her about wanting attention.

Yum yum
Having already decided that we must move on the next day (and once we make our decision we generally can't change it as mentally is has been set) we sat down to discover that the owner was actually a really good chef and we ate like kings as we devoured a huge freshly caught fish.
We also met a Belgian couple who had emigrated to Boquete (the previously visited town) and were building an investment property 300 metres further down the beach.
That is one sad fact about Panama - development. I feel like we have visited at just the right moment to see it before it possibly all goes wrong and special places like this, whilst not completely destroyed, will lose that touch of magic about them.
To confirm that we would be moving on we returned to our room and had to spend 20 minutes locating and fighting cockroaches, some of which had scuttled out from under AJ's bag. The crab who had made his home with us was welcomed to stay for the night - how random.

If this was the end of our trip and we had some investment money this place would get serious consideration. These lazy f*ckwits are sitting on one of the best backpacker destinations I have been to and the potential here can't be emphasised enough. Yes there is a lot of work but I want the place - minus the roaches! Anyone got any spare capital?
Wilderness
So much potential

This next day really took the biscuit (such an odd phrase) from this period of indecisive travel. Still wanting a beach location we moved a couple of hours down to coast to Santa Clara - a place we had read had lots of self catering Cabanas to rent.
Being away from the town the same taxi driver came to pick us up from where he had dropped us off only 18 hours before and he did us a favour by dropping us at the bus stop directly behind the required bus on the Pan American Highway.
(You do know that the Pan American runs from Alaska all the way down the Argentina? Now that is a road trip)
Imagining Santa Clara to be a more developed location we expected the bus to drive along the promenade and we would jump off wherever we saw fit.
Once again it was not to be and we found ourselves covered in dust as the bus pulled away from us at the roadside with nothing around us on the highway. Fortunately at that moment (I don't know how it all works out) a taxi came up to drop a local at the bus station and he took us down to the beach.

We lasted precisely 1hr 20mins at Playa Santa Clara. There were exactly 2 places to stay, one place was full but the crap room would be available the next day and the other was $90 per night; plus there were no kitchen facilities, only a really expensive sea front restaurant!
There was nothing to be done; a full 9 days before expected we would be heading for Panama City, all we had to do now was get back to the highway that was 4kms walk away along a windy uninhabited road and it was raining and muggy.
Arancha announced that she would manifest us a cab out of thin air and 2 minutes later one appeared who just happened to be dropping some goods off at the restaurant. Seriously, we were at the end of a track where only people visited in their own cars - there never should've been a cab here.

Straight out of the cab and onto the approaching bus to the capital was surely pushing a lucky travel streak wrapped around this abysmal travel week too far so I was happy that we wouldn't need to waste our good travel karma anymore for the next couple of weeks.

After only getting 5 days in Costa Rica and traveling to 3 non distinct destinations in Panama (although Las Lajas really had a lot of offer) we approached the capital of Panama City and crossing the Bridge of the Americas over the Panama Canal with the high rise city skyline glinting in the setting sun over the Pacific Ocean in front of me the previous few days paled into insignificance - I was where I wanted to be, in the city I have long coveted and having all this extra time may actually not be enough!
The skyline of the 'new' Panama City
So, to answer the question could we organise piss up in a brewery? Probably not, but I reckon it would all still work out for the best anyway!!

 

Thursday, 18 July 2013

Goodbye ancient ruins and volcanoes (for now)

Well the last 3 weeks has been a bit of a humid and sun drenched whirlwind as we whisked ourselves through 2 countries in our effort to free ourselves from the not so unfortunate grip of central America.
Leaving Guatemala began at 4am in the morning standing on a wee stenched street in the dark waiting for our collectivo to pick us up. Obviously we could've had an extra 30 mins in bed because it didn't turn up on time but I am not complaining because for once we got the back and the luxury of 3 seats between 2 of us - it may not sound like a lot but I can assure you that this was heavenly!

Considering crossing borders in central America does actually involve administrative exercises such as paying to leave one country and passing through immigration and getting stamped into the next I can't believe how easy and smooth the process is. After a short breakfast stop about an hour short of the border we arrived for processing and were stamped out and stamped in and back on our way within 30 minutes - an above average time for crossing a border in these parts.

Just to confirm, we were now passing into Honduras and even better was that our first Honduran destination was a mere 10kms from the border.
Door to door we had arrived into our new country and reached our first stop within 7 hours, meaning that we could begin to relax by 11am - sweet.

Town number 1 was Copan Ruinas, a small cobbled street town perfectly located for visiting Honduras' premier tourist attraction - The Copan Ruins.
I can't put my finger on the exact reasons why but we absolutely loved this little place that stretched out for just 4 blocks in all directions from the central square before you hit the first tracts of farmland and the encroaching jungle. Maybe it is to do with the fact that every male in this country is a wannabe cowboy with their Stetson, jeans and boots!


Copan town centre
Copan Ruinas



I left AJ in a café to watch the bags as I went in search of a place to stay and within 3 attempts we had found a suitable place with an all important 2nd level swimming pool - which we did not use!
Our first couple of days in Honduras were met with torrential downpours (the wet season now with us) so day 1 was spent in our comfy room watching movies as we listened to the thunder outside.

The next day began as each one does - blazing sunshine and blue skies before the clouds gather later in the afternoon. Today we would be visiting our 8th and final central American ruins and I think we saved the equal best for last.
The ruins are located 700 metres out of town so we took a pleasant stroll via a number of ancient tablets strewn about the place to the entrance.
We had already noted that the accommodation was much more expensive than in Guatemala but it was the entrance fee into the ruins that confirmed that our visit to Honduras would be a short one. In the real world, the one where I have a job and don't take a very long time off to do nothing of note, $30 to walk around an ancient city would be a bargain, but I don't live in the real world and 2 x $30 is the exact amount of our daily budget, so combined with a $15 hotel room (again, stupidly cheap in the 'real' world) we had already blown our daily budget without a morsel of food passing our lips.
Still, who cares? The ruins were worth it and I know you could argue that once you've seen one you have seen them all, but when you have visited 8 in a period of 3 months you really do take notice when you visit a goody.

As soon as we entered Copan we were won over because the ruins were home to a colony of Macaws that swooped low over our heads and perched on feeding tables close enough for us to touch if we had wanted to lose a finger.
Due to the time of year the grounds of the ruins were lush and green and this only added to the appearance of these fantastic ruins draped in jungle fauna with ancient trees bursting through the steps of the temples, their huge roots taking hold wherever they can gain purchase.

The central complex stretched over an area of 5 square kilometres and what makes Copan different from the rest was that once you climb up to the highest point of one of the temples you are then faced with another swath of city built atop of the temples, which were the areas devoted to the religious leaders and royalty.
The crowning glory of Copan is the main staircase of the religious temple that starts with an intricately carved alter at its base before stretching up high above you with a number of carved statues at every 10 steps which forms the central stairway.
For an additional $30 each we could've explored the catacombs but I really didn't fancy venturing into the airless tunnels in the near midday heat.

If the ruins and the macaws were not enough the insect life that were going about their daily business also kept us more than entertained. We marvelled at thousands upon thousands of leaf cutter ants marching to and from the nest, some literally falling over because the leaf they had chosen to carry was too big, we also tried to get a close as we could to the huge array of multi-coloured butterflies and then there were the spikey and furry caterpillars that would just drop out of the trees above - we just weren't sure about how close we could get to these or whether to risk picking them up!

Resident Macaws
The Copan Ruins


The Copan Ruins

Having decided that we would do Honduras as quickly as possible we decided that our next and final destination would be Utila, an island that forms part of the Bay Islands located off the north coast of the country in the Caribbean Sea. We were still hopeful of swimming with Whale Sharks and the sea around the Bay Islands is their primary habitat.







The journey to the port of La Ceiba was 6 hours and we would be passing through the town of San Pedro Sula, the world's most dangerous city with a reported 159 murders for every 100,000 people, so we decided for the sake of comfort and our security that we would travel via one of Honduras' luxury bus companies - Hedman Alas.
Again, the ticket was a budget buster but it was worth it - the fully reclining seats, free drinks and snacks and on-board movies more than matched that on an airline and it was a shame to get off it once we arrived.
My only complaint would be that if a girl is allowed to wear a vest on board then so should I! Instead I was told to dress more appropriately. Seriously, you are a bus!

The journey also marked the loss of a dearly beloved friend - our Lonely Planet Guide to Central America.
Somehow between us we managed to leave it on board and by the time we realised it was too late. With internet access being so easy nowadays this shouldn't be an issue but it is only when you don't have it that you really miss a quick reference check in the book or a recommendation of a decent hostel and town map.
Goodbye my friend, you served us well and I hope you're new parents are looking after you.

Arriving late we knew that we would need to spend the night in La Ceiba before taking the boat the following morning and fortunately I had remembered the name of a hostel before we lost the book and I am glad that we did.
We were staying in the west side of town and I later read that you should stay here if you like crack or crack addicted whores!! We did leave our gated compound for a total of 15 minutes to try and find a bank but soon decided that there was always tomorrow after an edgy walk along the dark streets.
With no money in our sky rockets we gorged ourselves on a dinner of 2 biscuits each and some jam on toast which we had left in our bags from the days journey - no way were we going back out there!

The same taxi driver came back for us at 7am the next morning because he told us that we needed to be at the port early to guarantee a ticket for the 9:30 ferry.
He was a bull-shitter - we would've have been fine to arrive at 9:10am but seeing him arrive a further 2 times after dropping us off confirmed that he was a just a sensible businessman and had lined up his morning's pay, and why not?
The ferry over the island only took an hour but it was an hour of being on the pirate ship at the fair. It is never a good sign when the sick bags are given out before you depart but I was surprised at how many people took one and at how many people slowly turned from pink / brown to pale to green as we swayed to and fro on the open ocean. Fortunately we are both ok when it comes to motion sickness so we sat back and enjoyed the pain of others.

With no guide to give us a few pointers we decided to do 'the usual' upon arrival and avoid the touts and go for a coffee and some food before actually finding a place to stay.
With the bags and AJ safely tucked away on a shaded café balcony I did my duty and found the perfect place at Rubi's Inn, a clean and tidy establishment with its own pier for jumping off into the sea.
I liked this place from the start because Rubi, busy with something else called her husband to assist me by shouting out:
"Earl, where's your ass at?" in a Caribbean accent.

Never with a timeframe in mind we ended up hanging out here for 4 nights and although I did nothing of note, I really enjoyed that fact.
Utila and the Bay Islands are all about diving - if you don't dive you are a nobody; and I don't dive!

For such a small place I was surprised by how many backpackers were here to undertake the various diving courses, but given that it is the cheapest place in the world to qualify I shouldn't be.
Amongst the masses of restaurants, cafes and bars the streets of the town 'centre' are lined with dive shops and dive schools all competing for your business and it was so cheap (accommodation included within the price) that I was tempted to take my open water - so that I could be somebody. But in the end I couldn't be arsed, I prefer the mountains.
Whilst on Utila we hired a moped to explore the island and I can't say that it was really worth it - we just seemed to end up in multiple dead ends and have to turn around.

What was worth it though was my haircut. I randomly found a hair stylist from Kent who was ex Toni and Guy now living on Utila with her Guatemalan husband who she met when she was backpacking in this part of the world. Like all good haircuts we had a yap about the weather, traveling etc as she cut away a sizeable chunk of what had become a serious lion's mane!
I have to say that life is a lot more comfortable now, especially for my neck.

Arancha took the opportunity of being on the island to reacquaint herself with actually being somebody by doing her first dive in years. Firstly she had to do a 'tune-up' to ensure that when she went back out into the open water she didn't f*ck up and drown but that all went well and the following day she was out before 7am and 18 metres under the ocean surface.
All in all it wasn't a great dive as the visibility was bad but the important thing is that she has got the taste for it again, so to ensure that I don't miss out in the future it looks as though I will be doing my PADI at some point.
Whilst AJ was fooling about in the sea I amused myself by jumping off the pier into the sea that was salty enough to allow me to lie back and float with my hands behind my head, hang out with the local hummingbird who would hover and perch within touching distance of me and do some much needed Spanish study.
Our back garden on Utila Island
Sunset over the bay


Another gorgeous sunset
Leaving the island was the start of pretty much a full 2.5 days of travel. We caught the 6:20am boat back to mainland and took a taxi to a bus station recommended by a local sharing our cab.
At the ticket booth we were horrified to learn that our 8 hour bus trip to the capital city would be $50 each so we decided to take a risk and make our way quickly over to the terminal of the company we used before - and this is where our Lonely Planet would've come in quite handy.
With no idea where we were we hailed a taxi and told him where we wanted to go. He was only too happy to nod his head and say that he understood before getting the bags loaded into the car.
I am not lying - he exited the bus terminal, turned left and drove for 10 metres, turned right into a driveway and drove 5 metres up it to drop us at the other terminal!!
Surely he could've just pointed it out for us?
Very much seeing the funny side of it we negotiated a half-price deal - about £1.50 and headed for the bus.

I can't tell you anything about the capital city of Honduras, Tegucigalpa because we literally got off the bus, took a taxi to a cheap and really good hotel that we found via someone's online blog before getting up the next day and taking another bus out over the border and to the capital city of Nicaragua.
All that we did see was a run down and dirty city and all that we experienced of its culture was a meal at a Chinese restaurant that served us so much food that we took away doggy bags and had breakfast and lunch from it the next day.

Crossing the border and getting in to Nicaragua was the easiest yet because the bus company we travelled with, Tica Bus takes care of it all for you. We handed them our passports and exit fees and apart from taking our bags through immigration (a barn) we did nothing else apart from stand about at the border eating bananas or sit back and watch the movies such as Life of Pi.

Hanging about at La Frontera (border)
Entering country number 7

Whereas we are unsure of our feelings about Honduras, yes it is a nice country but it is unwarrantedly expensive and its people are trying to hard to be American with their phoney accents, we immediately fell for Nicaragua.
Driving to the capital we passed by yet more volcanoes and now vast lakes and when we got off the bus in a dodgy part of the capital city, Managua, what we found (apart from the annoying touts, who did get us a decent room) was a little community of cheap sleeps, cheap eats and cheery people sitting out on the streets.
I think AJ has captured it perfectly when she says that Nicaragua is the country of the rocking chair - everyone just sits about rocking peacefully in the shade.

Once settled into the room and showered we went out for a bite to eat and found ourselves in an open kebab shop / restaurant run entirely by women who would sing and dance as they cooked whilst the matriarch (in obligatory rocking chair) personally tasted the food (she sent a lot back) and handled the money.
We sat back, enjoyed the entertainment, drank a beer and ate freshly barbequed beef, rice and plantain chips - what a nice way to be welcomed into country number 7.

Once again this would be a quick visit because we are now on a sort of timeframe - if we make it that is. There is a boat leaving from Panama City for Columbia on August 13th and we are planning to be on it, but as it leaves every 2 weeks this date could slip - let's see?

We had no desire to hang around the capital city so we caught a taxi over to local bus station and were on our way to the touristy lakeside city of Granada within 30 seconds of arriving, now that is efficiency (or good timing) and for the extortionate cost of 66p each.

Granada - what a lovely place! For once we had booked somewhere online prior to our arrival, primarily because it was advertised as 20p per night due to on-going construction over the summer. This deal that was too good to be true turned out to be just that but it didn't matter because we found ourselves in one of the most relaxing hostels I have ever stayed in with great staff, a good inclusive breakfast and an American owner who would do anything for you if you asked him to. It turned out that the 20p per room cost advertised online was down to his ex-business partner who after first robbing him of $35,000 then entered a campaign of hate and destruction that included hacking into his email to send his girlfriend crazy hate mail as well as booking random groups of backpackers into the hostel when it still wasn't ready and a building sight etc.
It also turned out that the Nicaraguan staff at the hostel were gearing up for the arrival of Adam Lambert the American Idol winner. They had no idea what he looked like or that he was gay but his concert schedule confirmed that he was free to visit and when we did arrive she phoned her boss to say that I could be him because I had long curly hair like a pop star and a very pretty girlfriend!! Obviously Arancha was well chuffed to hear this but AJ being here also confirmed to the boss (Greg) that he didn't have a 'star' and great marketing ploy for his new gaff in his midst.

As for Granada itself, though quite touristy, is a really lovely city set on the banks of Lake Nicaragua with long wide streets, leafy green squares and the standard brightly coloured churches.
Having taken a brief look around upon our arrival the clouds began to descend upon the town so we took affirmative action and took shelter in the local Irish Bar to eat Fish and Chips and get drunk on the local beer, priced at £1.30 per litre.

Granada
Granada


View of Apoyo Lagoon from Catarina
We spent 4 nights in Granada but didn't really do a lot with our time. On one day we did manage to catch the local bus up to Catarina, a local town famous for being situated on the rim of an dormant volcano crater that is now a lagoon and I have to say that the view out across the lagoon and down to Granada and the lake in the far distance was stunning. We also made an important acquisition in the city - basically I 'borrowed' a Central America Lonely Planet from a really expensive restaurant that we had eaten at. We had given one version to the universe to use as it so pleases so we were just taking this one to give it a life of its own and save it from its dusty shelf.






Next on the agenda was Isla de Ometepe, a real highlight for anybody that reads fantasy or adventure novels. Like the setting in an Arthur Conan Doyle book, Ometepe is a lush forested island formed of 2 volcanoes, one of which rises a mile straight up out of Lake Nicaragua in a perfect cone that is shrouded in mist and mystique.
The mystical Isla Ometepe
Dual volcanoes

Excited!
Lake Nicaragua itself is impressive enough, being the largest lake in Central America and covering an area of 3,200 square miles.
Access to the island is via a 4 hour ferry ride and as we approached land and got our first real good view of the island I really expected to hear the roar of a T-Rex in the distance and see Pterodactyls circling around the peaks of the 2 volcanoes. It was all very Jurassic Park!







We visited the island for the sole purpose of summiting one of the 2 volcanoes and we decided that the highest peak of Concepcion would be the one for us. Unfortunately the weather was against us during our stay so we didn't get the chance to make a climb but that was ok, so instead we hired a couple of bicycles and explored part of the island.
We visited Agua de Ojo - volcanic thermal pools with supposed healing properties which were set amongst the monkey and exotic bird infested trees of the forest.
We also cycled down to one of the island's beaches for lunch and sat there watching the local wildlife (some introduced) that ranged from birds of prey, cows, dogs and 3 fawns following a lady as though she was their deer mother.
Our lunch was a right tasty dish of grilled beef and chicken but when one of the resident chickens came sniffing for food I was a little taken aback by the fact that it had some sort of disease and I could see right down to the bone on part of its rib cage - I really hope the chicken served for lunch was not from the same flock!!
The island was also home to literally thousands of butterflies and millions of greenfly, the latter of which we really enjoyed tasting during our ride home.

Deer on the lake beach
Agua de Ojo

With a real need for speed we decided that 2 nights on the island was enough and we got our arses over the our final Nicaraguan destination of San Juan Del Sur for a taste of relaxation; not that we really need it.
On the recommendation of fellow travelers that we met back on Tabacco Caye in Belize we had the taxi driver drop us a couple of kilometres outside of town at the bottom of a hill with a sign declaring that the road was private and there were armed men of the prowl.
Being a bloody hot and humid country we were sweating our proverbials off by the time we reached our intended destination but it was so very worth it. Casa De Olas has to be one of THE backpacker destinations, certainly in central America.
Australian owned and Australian and English inhabited this 'hostel' really is a piece of real estate quality. Set upon a hill overlooking the town of San Juan Del Sur which sits between 2 cliffs on a horseshoe shaped bay backpackers such as ourselves can sit and drink at the open plan bar or alternatively choose to take a dip and take in the surroundings via the infinity pool.
Every room opens up onto the pool and if that wasn't all good enough there is the resident pet spider monkey to cuddle up to, if you are a male. (She hates females and will pull their hair)

The sometimes unfriendly Buzz
Another aggressive female

There are only 3 negative comments I can make about this place:
  1. There are a few too many peacocks strutting about the place trying to pull the chicks, but I guess we have all been there
  2. Ralf Machio - the nickname given to a complete nobber we met at Spanish school in Xela randomly works here
  3. A young Aussie girl has been wearing revealing shorts with no underwear and sitting with her legs wide apart. This morning I got a full frontal and it wasn't pretty. A 23 year old girl should not have something in that state - it is hairy and looks like a dog has chewed on it! Given that we can hear the calls of the Howler Monkeys in the distance rolling over the hills to the hostel she is now called Growler Monkey.
These aren't really negatives and this place really is a top quality gaff.


Bar
Pool and sunset

So that's it, in just 17 days we have competed a further 2 countries but feel that we have seen enough to be able to judge them. Honduras is still developing but unfortunately is developing into an expensive destination for backpackers, whereas Nicaragua we really like, is backpacker friendly and we would love to return one day.

Onwards and downwards to Costa Rica and an ecological adventure. On the radar are nesting turtles, the elusive Mayan bird of paradise, the Quetzal, pumas, giant anteaters and sloths.   

Tuesday, 2 July 2013

Peak to peak and the beauty in between

Well after 44 days in Guatemala which feels like it has been so much longer we have finally made it into Honduras with the promise of a return to the sun, sand and tropical islands.
Our final couple of weeks here were full of activity, mainly of a physical and sweaty variety; so here we go.

Before we got out of the classroom and back into the natural world we had to complete our last few days of Spanish school. As is always the way it was during these couple of days that I felt that I was making the most progress, which probably had an awful lot to do with the fact that we got out from behind the desk and took the lessons outdoors.
Applying the language to real life situations and activities was much more fruitful and I really enjoyed conversing with my teacher as we walked around the museums, churches, galleries and chewed the cud over 100% Guatemalan coffee in his favourite café.
Topics for conversation included drugs, religion, lady-boys and prostitution - see how far my language skills have come along!!!
I wouldn't say that we shared a tearful embrace come 1pm on Friday 21st June but he was grateful for the small gifts of organic coffee (the bag cost half of his daily wage) and some new whiteboard marker pens because I was sick of seeing him refilling his old ones with ink every other day (even though I got to sniff the pear-drop scented ink and get a little buzz).
Arancha went one better and bought her teacher some shoes that she had been saving up for and she did get a tearful embrace.
Jorge, my teacher, does have a close friend in London so one day I would like to think that we will be reunited for another chat, and maybe this time we can up it a notch and discuss sex slavery or paedophilia!

Our final school activity was to go out for a dinner on the Friday night but it was a low key affair as a few of us were down to participate in the full moon trek to Volcan Santa Maria the next evening.

With the trek in mind we did absolutely nothing on the Saturday except to eat and drink, and big up to our fellow housemates Kyle and Jenna who prepared us an energy producing home cooked dinner of bangers and mash before we headed out for the climb.

And so at the ridiculous time of 9:30pm we left the house and walked over to the trek company to complete registration and wait to begin our moonlight walk. I can't say that I was overly impressed to find that there would be over 30 of us participating but given that it is a once in a month opportunity it is not really surprising.
The plan was for us to set off at 10:30pm because the rough estimate was that it would take a ridiculous 4 - 6 hours of walking to reach the summit - always the case with a large group. Just as the lead guide announced that the weather was due to be perfect and we would be leaving shortly it began to rain heavily (of course it did) and for the next hour we were left in limbo as to whether the trek would be cancelled. In the end the rain abated and we were given a choice of whether we still wanted to go ahead or not, which 99% of the group did. To my surprise one guy from our school actually decided to quit before he even started, mainly due to the fact that he had come completely unprepared - seriously who comes to do an overnight trek to the top of a volcano in only shorts, t-shirt and trainers? Bloody English!

Like a group of Eastern European immigrants we all jumped into the back of a Luton van and with the back door still up we set off to the base of the volcano, stopping along the way to pick up our armed guard of 2 policeman - it can be a bit dangerous in these parts.
Getting ready to climb
Immigrants

Just over 1 hour and 45 minutes later than planned we finally got to begin our walk. Thankfully the rain had now stopped and would remain non-existent for the rest of our time on the trip but unfortunately there would be no full moon to guide us as the cloud was low and thick. It is shame because this full moon also happened to be the 'super moon'.
A mere hour into the ascent we stopped for a 30 minute break - no wonder it would take so long to summit and unbelievably another person decided that it was all a little too much for her. Surely when you decide to climb a volcano through the night you must realise it is not going to be that pleasant and if you are not fit enough you must know this in yourself before you begin?

Anyway, with the weak links gone it was time to begin the ascent proper and for the next 2.5 - 3 hours the group, although split into 3 parts, toiled and grappled with the steep, slippery and sometimes disappearing trail that was only always wide enough to be negotiated in single file.
Come 4:30am, after 4 hours of continuous climbing, the guide closely followed by a group of 7 which included myself and Arancha made it to the top.
I give Arancha a fisted salute over the heart because she was the second 'tourist' to summit and she had a chest infection. A great effort by my little mountaineer putting the others to shame.
Whoever said that it was not a race to the top is wrong - life is a competition and we are always competing against each other to win, it's fun!
However, the real heroes of the climb were the 2 dogs that apparently accompany every tour group to the top in hope of a free feed - they lightly trotted and happily made their way up waiting every now and then for us to catch up.

The first thing we did when we reached the top was to quickly get out of sweat soaked clothes and change into something warm and dry. It was freezing on the summit which topped out at just over 3,700 metres and the wind that whipped across the desolate peak cut right through us.
At 4:45am the light of the new day was beginning to creep up over the horizon so we had to make one of 2 choices:
1) Join the rest of group and watch the sunrise over the expanse of land that lay before us
2) Head away from sunrise and check out Volcan Santiguito - currently the most active volcano in Guatemala

I said that we had to choose one of two options but unbelievably some of the group chose a third option - climb into a sleeping bag to sleep missing everything that nature had on offer. Humans - some of them completely perplex me!

Witnessing an eruption
Having witnessed many sunrises with many more to come only myself and Arancha ventured over to a lower part of the peak to take a look at Santiguito and hopefully catch a piece of the action. With dawn approaching in full force we sat mesmerised as streams of smoke gently rose from an actual active volcano. From the peak we had 360 degree views out across the country and whilst checking out one magnificent vista after another we suddenly heard a loud rumbling and 'boom' and quickly turned back to Santiguito to witness a real eruption. The only way I can describe our reaction was like to kids at Christmas as we stood transfixed listening to the boom and watching a huge mushroom cloud of volcanic ash and cloud spew up into the air.

We were on the peak for 3 hours and only once did that happen - how lucky were we? Everybody else was watching the sunrise or sleeping.

Xela from the top of Santa Maria
So what about the rest of the view? Well our 360 degree view was as follows:
Looking out over and past the smoking Volcan Santiguito you could see the Guatemalan Pacific coastline, also as the sun rose behind us it cast a perfect pyramid shaped shadow of Volcan Santa Maria (where we were stood) that didn't look real as it stretched out over the land below. Turning to the right we looked out over 2 other volcanos, one being Tajulmulco - the highest point in Central America, continuing around we looked down upon our home city of Xela stretching out to meet the base of the hills that formed the basin that the city sits within, before finally completing our circle with the most impressive view of all - the volcanic range starting with Volcan San Pedro that sits on the shores of Lago Atitlan and finished 6 volcanos later with Volcan Fuego close to the city of Antigua.
Chuck in a few dramatic clouds hovering between the peaks and the approaching sun into the mix and what you have is a view that will be one of the memories that I will take with me - for me it was that good.

The view over to Lake Atitlan
The highest point in Central America

After a measly breakfast, a cup of coffee and quite a few moans about how cold and tired people were (admittedly it was chilly) we finally began our ascent at 8am and by 10:30am we were all at the base lounging in the warm sun keen to get back home for a shower, some food and a kip.
That day we finally made it to bed at 3pm and by that point having completed the 1,500 metre climb up and subsequent 1,500 metre descent we had been awake for over 30 hours.

Surprisingly we were sprightly and as keen as beans the following day - our last day after a month in Xela; as we moved out of our homestay and into a hostel for the night. We completed what little bits we had tie up and this included buying small gifts for Leslie and Luis who had treated us so well and also taking them out for a thank you meal along with Jenna and Kyle.
One other final task was to show Arancha around the Xela museum which apart from being located in an old prison, having a really impressive of locally found Mayan artefacts had a 'freak' section. There was a 4 month human foetus, which seeing how developed it was makes the limit of 12 weeks for an abortion seem a bit dodgy, plus there were various Siamese animals such as a 2 headed calf and 2 bodies deer - brilliant.

Finally it was time to leave this city and once again we made our way back to the same trek company to partake in a 2.5 day, 45 kilometre trek from Xela to the shores of Lago Atitlan, renowned as one of the most beautiful lakes in the world.
Fortunately the group for this trek was much smaller and consisted of only 7 travelers and 2 guides.
With ourselves, Jenna and Kyle was Yan from Hong Kong and 2 Israeli girls.
We departed early doors catching an 8am bus out of Xela to a nearby village that housed the start of the trek path.
It was a bright sunny day and all was well in the world. The opening part of the trek was a 1,000 metre walk straight up a rocky track to get the heart pumping but with the promise of this being the hardest part climb in the 2.5 days and also the highest point we would get to you would think that everybody would just suck it up and deal with it.
Not so! One of the Israeli's (now known as Isfail - I acknowledge you Kyle for this) decided a mere 30 minutes into the trek that she couldn't go on. Are you f*cking serious? How can you quit after only 30 minutes and then once you have met up with us later after being driven to the end point claim that smoking had nothing to do with it?
As Isfail was being evacuated back to Xela we had to sit around killing time and it was during this time that we all had to redistribute the communal food between us because the other chunky Israeli couldn't carry the weight of her bag! Carrying extra communal food is fine by me but most of us drew the line at helping her with her own gear. Yan being a gentleman helped her out as did one of the guides with her water and sleeping bag.
22 year olds should not be that unfit!

Taking a rest
A friendly local?

The remainder of that day saw us walk up mountains, amongst the multiple corn fields that litter the countryside, through little villages with their inquisitive inhabitants and lunch resting on our bags overlooking a cloud forest and its dense jungle vegetation before descending down the other side of the mountain over loose scree and slippery paths where we all danced around as though we were on ice.
7 hours later we wearily exited the countryside and joined a very hard and rough dirt road that wound around the valley and took us up to what very literally would be our humble abode for the night.

How to explain the village that we found ourselves in for the night? Apocalyptic would go some way to capturing its appearance. Set amongst a beautiful mountain backdrop it was the sort of place where everything would disappear within seconds as the cloud descended and all you were left with was a view of the clapped our central square (which the village was built around) as we sat around waiting for the zombies to stagger out of the mist to rip out our intestines and feast upon our entrails.
Our accommodation was the Municipal Hall set on the east side of this square and it was as basic as can be. The lead guide opened up the iron door and creaking filled the ample hall that would be our communal bedroom for the night. We had free choice as to where we wanted to sleep but every spot had one thing in common - it was hard tiled floor which on threadbare sleeping mats would leave us all with bruised hips and backs.
The treat to help us recover from a hard days trekking and to assist with the uncomfortable night to come was to visit the local sweat lodges.
Essentially these hot boxes were homebuilt saunas / steam rooms super heated by pouring water over volcanic rocks which would then spew out hissing steam.
Being small units that resembled WWII bomb shelters the only way to enter was on hands and knees before crouching and trying to clean yourself.
As we visited in couples I stripped off to my birthday suit and proceeded to wash myself as best I could whilst ingesting copious amounts of volcanic steam which left everybody who visited coughing like they had just smoked a pack of 20.
Of course it was an enjoyable experience, how can getting clean in such a way in someone's back garden in the middle of nowhere not be, but I wasn't overly keen on trying to stand to wash my bits and hearing my back sizzle on the hot tin roof.
The 'hot box'
Ooh, a comfy night ahead
That night we ate an ample dinner of pasta and vegetables and settled down to sleep by 8pm as we watched the odd rat run from one end of the hall to the other.

Living the culinary dream
After an energy packed egg and rice breakfast prepared and eaten in a local villager's kitchen we were back on the trek and headed for the promise of a good dinner and comfortable night at the house of Don Pedro.
This day's trek was hard and but also really enjoyable and we tackled some really challenging uphill climbs before being rewarded for such endeavours with great views and more importantly, ice cream purchased from the village tienda (corner shop).
The first climb of the day was to take on the challenge of 'Record Hill', a seriously steep uphill climb that left your calves feeling like they were going to explode.
The hill is called 'Record Hill' because one of the local guides once smashed the walk up and completed the ascent in 9 mins and 5 secs.
Each trekkers mission, if they chose to accept it was to try and beat this time - frankly an impossible task.
Only 4 of the group decided to give it a go and being the keenest / stupidest, I set off first. 12 mins 51 secs later I made it to the top and even if I got back to peak fitness there is no way that I would be able to get anywhere close to 9 mins. Given that I beat the time of our own guide shows how insanely fast that time is.
AJ was the only girl to give it a go and she came in at 18 mins and 30 secs - coughing and spluttering with the continuing chest infection.
Standard walking time was 25 minutes, so we bitched it up.

The afternoon part of the trek mixed the walk up a little as we traversed a total of 9 creeks / brooks. Everyone keenly stood and watched the rest cross with eagle eyes secretly hoping that someone would trip and get a soaking. Unfortunately everybody made it across but if that meant that we ourselves were dry then I guess you have to just accept it.
By mid afternoon we made it to our second stop over, the house of Don Pedro, who was somewhat the main man in the community that we found ourselves in. Don's gaff was large enough to house the 9 of us plus his own family which consisted of his grown up kids and their own children.
Don and his family were also building the new church for the community and were busy shifting sand and gravel in huge quantities whilst Mrs Don got her cook on.
Dinner prepared by Don's wife contained some of the best chicken that I have ever eaten and the marshmallows cooked over the open fire in the covered yard were a much welcome addition to my hungry stomach.
The dining room also doubled as our bedroom for the night and the stench emanating from one of the guides unwashed feet soon caused some upset within the camp. I really liked the guide (an Aussie) and he has lived a life that anybody who enjoys the great outdoors would want; such as working for 12 months as a guide in Australia's red centre, driving around Australia twice and picking up odd jobs here and there, as well as working as a coffee salesman in New Zealand that left him with 4 days a week to explore the rugged South Island.
However, his feet were putrid and there is no defence for a smell like that.
The night was finished off with a little song and dance courtesy of the Don and 3 of the grandkids which was a thoroughly enjoyable affair whilst the young twins ran amuck through the house.
Marshmallows
Don Pedro and the gang

Whether the floor was comfy or not, or whether Dan the Guide's feet were still giving off a serious pong was irrelevant because we were up, out and back on the road at 3:45am in order to finish off the trek in absolute style.
By 4:30am we had settled down on our sleeping mats with our backs against our bags on a lawn high above Lago Atitlan and there we sat for 2 hours watching the sun rise from behind the mountains to the east to illuminate the lake and the volcanic range we had seen a few days earlier from the peak of Santa Maria; which now sat right in front of us. Even better, one of Guatemala's other active volcanos Volcan Fuego decided to get a little excited and spout out a stream of black smoke that appeared even darker against the pinks, oranges and yellows of the morning sky.
As mentioned before Lake Atitlan is thought of as one of the most in the world and it was actually created through the volcanic activity of the 3 volcanos that sit along its southern shoreline. Over 1.8 million years ago the lava spewing out of these 3 created a basin of lava rock that created a completely watertight base that continually rises and falls during the changing of the seasons (average depth of 350 metres) - something that the westerners who built their beautiful houses along the shore didn't take into account and is the reason why they now sit under water!!
We sat at the northern end of this lake that covers a total of 130 square kilometres and ate breakfast overlooking this beauty and the numerous villages and fields that litter the landscape producing crops, most notably corn and coffee. How could anyone possibly have cause to complain???


Lake Atitlan


The last task left to us (after each and every one of us went for a poo in the woods) was to descend amongst the spectacular views down to the seemingly woman only village of San Juan to wait for our bags to arrive and to eat lunch served up by the Mayan Women's Collective.


Along with Kyle and Jenna we decided that it would be best to base ourselves in the lively town of San Pedro and so via tuk tuk we got ourselves over to the town and within 20 minutes had secured neighbourly rooms in a good part of town with a hammock and lake views. Sweet as!
Our timing couldn't have been much better as it was fiesta time and we spent our 4 days here during the annual birthday celebrations of the town. The celebrations consisted of hourly fireworks, streets lined with delicious food stalls, fair rides and best of all marquees containing loads of original arcade games such as Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat.

San Pedro also had it touristy area and there were no complaints as we strolled around the laneways enjoying big juicy burgers and chocolate brownies because we had obviously earned the right to from our tough 2.5 days walk.

For me there was also the bonus of another volcano climb. The town sits at the base of its namesake volcano, Volcan San Pedro and at 5am on the morning following our arrival I found myself saying goodbye to Arancha who was sleeping soundly and I set off to make my second volcano summit within 5 days, because I was unable to rest until I had achieved my objective.
The guide book and the various agencies around town insisted that for security reasons you should only climb the volcano with a guide but because I am hard and wicked I did it on my own.
I actually did heed the warnings so only took a small amount money with me which turned out to be a bit of an issue because I didn't realise that I needed to pay a permit to be within the ecological park.
About 1 hour into my solo climb I came across a friendly guide who asked if he could see my permit slip which was how I discovered that I actually needed one. Due to safety precautions I only had 45 Quetzales of the required 100 Q on me but with a little broken Spanish, especially using 'Lo Siento' (Sorry) he let me off and wrote me a little homemade receipt that I would be able to present to the office once I returned to base.
As for the actual climb, it was tough and not exactly worth it because the peak was surrounded in thick cloud but once I descended back down to the clear skies at 2,500 metres I was rewarded with fantastic views out across the lake and the town of San Pedro.

Volcan San Pedro



Climbing Volcan San Pedro

Knowing that I hadn't fully paid for the permit and only had a crappy handwritten receipt for my 45% payment I tried to avoid the payment office completely upon my return to base and took a short cut to main road through the hedges - only to come face to face with the 'permit master'.
Oddly enough he didn't actually ask me why I had just emerged through a bush and was very kind and understanding about the half payment of the permit, nice enough that I felt like a complete tool for dragging myself through a bush to avoid contact with him.

With the volcano completed I could relax and enjoy my time along the banks of the lake and for 3 days we ate, took a boat across the lake to the hippy filled streets of San Marcos, a centre for holistic healing and yoga and also caught up with a mate from Spanish school.

On the Saturday we thought it would be wise to down a few beers so myself and Arancha got a little tipsy and ventured out to the centre of town to enjoy the fiesta festivities. Come 11:30pm I still wanted to take in what San Pedro had to offer so after walking AJ home I returned to the basketball court in the middle of town to join the hundreds of other residents to watch and dance to the local Guatemalan and guest South American bands that had come to play until the early hours of the morning.
Whilst standing off to the side a little Guatemalan guy came to keep me company and for the next couple of hours we were inseparable (because I was buying him beer) as we traded Spanish small talk and took it all in.

After 4 days around the lake it was time to leave which also meant that apart from a lay over in the already visited Antigua it was time to wave goodbye to Guatemala.
Once again I departed yet another country having fallen for its charms, people and natural wonders - how the hell I am supposed to settle in just one place in the future?