Antigua - A Guatemalan Gem.

First a quick apology, some of the links to the photos on the last blog entry (This is the road to Hell) were broken, they're now fixed....

Antigua is one of those cities where you feel at ease within a couple of hours, the pace of life, the climate and the overall ambiance is conducive to doing sod all and enjoying it. Once the administrative and military seat of Spanish Guatemala, a colony that covered much of modern day Central America and some of Mexico during the 16th century. Over the next 200 years a number of earthquakes destroyed or damaged large parts of the city to the point where the Spanish got fed up and ordered the relocation of the city to it's present location 20 miles down the road. The city was stripped of everything including fixtures and fittings and left deserted except for a small population of squatters who remained in the ruins. Over the next 300 or so years it has been restored to it's present condition although very little of the original city remains today.

The Santa Catalina Arch looking towards Volcan de Agua.

Volcanoes Fuego and Acatenango.

The reconstructed Central Park fountain.

The best time to see the City is early, six'o clock early. The streets are mostly deserted and devoid of tourists, the locals go about the process of getting through the day earning or begging a living. The presence of souvenir sellers and beggars  is one of the accepted annoyances in Central America and they can normally be fended off with a polite "No Gracias".

The city has been declared a UNESCO world heritage site and is one of the world's best conserved Colonial cities. It has to be one of my favourite places and probably the best city I have visited on this trip. The pictures speak for themselves and I make no apologies for the number posted on the blog, I've probably got ten times as many saved to disk.

MORE PICTURES FROM ANTIGUA GUATEMALA

We had originally planned to spend some time here learning Spanish so Sue and I signed up for a five day immersion course in the hope of equipping ourselves verbally for the rest of the trip!. The bad news is after five days we didn't really achieve a great deal, our Spanish grammar has only improved slightly and we realise that although our vocabulary is quite extensive we're stumped when it comes to stringing sentences together. On a positive note I can now explain how a housewife bakes a cake and Sue can tell you how a boy dresses as a clown for his birthday (not a lot of use unless you want to tell a Border Guard he has a big red nose and a curly wig!)

This is Sue and Anna Marie our Spanish tutor, (I avoid getting photographed with Hobbits if at all possible)

At some point in the week Joe developed a dodgy hip, it may have been as a result of picking the bike up after the 'off' at El Remate or just a run of the mill muscle twinge that comes with falling apart as one gets older!. Either way it was bad enough for Joe to consider throwing in the towel and returning to Colorado, logistically it would be easier to get to Panama and ship the bike back from there than to arrange everything locally in Guatemala. The first thing was to get it looked at professionally, a visit to the local hospital and an injection improved his comfort level but we would have to see if a period of rest would get him back on the road.

Here's volcano Fuego trying to prove it's still active, every day it kicks out a plume of ash but hasn't seriously erupted in decades (more of a heavy smoker than a potential natural disaster)

Native Kaqchikel musicians (I'm looking forward to the Peruvian pan pipes already)

During our stay we decided to take a trip up Volcan Pacaya on the other side of Guatemala City but Joe stayed behind in Antigua to rest the hip. The hike up the volcano finishes at the lava flows and takes approximately 90 minutes to scale the 2,400 feet up (bastard) volcanic ash!. The first 30 minutes involved hiking through the jungle and by the time we'd reached the tree line the heat and effort involved in the climb had seen off one couple in the party and a couple of others had succumbed to paying for the horse 'taxis' that follow you up the mountain like bloody vultures in the hope they'll get to haul your sorry arse of the mountain.

All smiles....So far so good.

The view from halfway.

Sue and Lynn lagging behind. (the vultures are hovering just out of shot)

Not smiling any more are we?......

Climbing on volcanic ash is worse than sand, as well as being tough on the legs it is also incredibly abrasive and every so often we had to stop and empty our shoes to prevent our feet ending up as bloody stumps!

The tour brochure said it was an easy walk.

Just about the time that Lynn took this photo Sue decided she had had enough and was quite prepared to forgo the experience of standing next to molten lava for the sake of  keeping two healthy lungs. I was having none of it and convinced her to let me pull her the rest of the way on the end of a discarded stick left by a previous party. Mistake number 127....., I consider myself educated enough to not resort to swearing often in an effort to be descriptive, but there are exceptions, and this was one of them. By the time we had reached the top I was completely and utterly ...........well rather than use the word I'll use an example. If you saw someone jump out of a plane without a parachute you'd say HE'S  F*^%$D! well that was me, well and truly. The effort involved in dragging my 15 stone (honest, I've lost a shed load of weight on this trip!!!) was enough, but to have a carcase on the end of a stick as well, left me with just enough energy to laugh at some half wit who thought he could toast marshmallows on the end of a stick.

Me being a rough tough firefighter (retired) could stand the heat (I've just got no hair left on my arms!)

We had kept in touch with Oisin and Helmar who we met in Mexico and knew that they were in the area from  reading their blog and emails, we missed an arranged meeting at one of the local bars but the next night as we were having dinner in a restaurant they walked in. We chatted about our journeys since we split up and I agreed to take a run into Guatemala City with Helmar the next day as we both needed new tyres. The easy part of the next day was getting to the outskirts of the city, we had agreed the night before to pay a taxi driver to take us into the centre to find the BMW dealer rather than waste hours driving around or getting lost. What we forgot was that BMW dealers over here close on Mondays so we had to spend the next hour looking for somewhere that sold the right size tyres. Eventually we stumbled on OgriMotos and Carlos the owner looked after us like we were family.

British bikers will recognise this character from BIKE magazine.

Me, Carlos and Helmar

BOB getting a new front tyre.

This is how locals avoid getting a speeding ticket from plate recognition cameras, just stick something over the last couple of digits.

Whilst we were there we got talking to Frank a local businessman and BMW rider and his son Jesse. They gave us an insight into the local biker scene and very kindly took us out to lunch whilst the bikes were being worked on. When we got back we said our goodbyes and Frank and Jesse escorted us to the outskirts and the road back to Antigua, (I know they are reading this so thanks fellas for a great time!)

Jesse, Helmar and Frank

The best steak house in Guatemala!

The next stop after Antigua was Lake Atitlan, renowned as one of the most beautiful lakes in the world, however, due to bad waste management a cyano bacteria covers up to 75% of the lakes surface and the original deep blue colour has now been replaced by a brown scum.

Very picturesque, until you get close up.....

looks like you could walk on the stuff!

We were originally booked in to the Hotel Kaqchikel but after a couple of nights got fed up with the noise and moved to a posh hotel overlooking the lake, it must have been really posh because the guy in reception asked if I wanted the porn channel disabled. I said "no thanks just plain porn is fine for me".......OK, OK, I know it's an old joke and not politically correct but I laugh every time I hear it.

You know it's a posh hotel when guests arrive by helicopter.

I made the mistake of paying the equivalent of about 5 pence for this photo, next thing I knew there was a mob of kids all wanting to be models.

On the way from Antigua to Panajachel we passed this guy on the opposite carriageway, he was loaded down like you wouldn't believe. We waved but couldn't stop, however, when we arrived in Panajachel he was parked up chatting to the locals.

Just got room for the kitchen sink.

Igor has been on the road around the world for 3 years, he is supported by local contributions and occasional funding by his wife back in Czechoslovakia. He has promised her he will be home for Christmas this year so wasn't hanging around and after a beer and a chat was on his way South.

Note to self....Get more stickers.

Joe was still convalescing so Sue, Lynn and I took a boat ride across the lake to Santiago de Atitlan. All the villages around the lake are mostly inhabitied by the native Indian population and although all are considered Maya there are twenty two different languages and the lake people were accustomed to dealing with people they couldn't talk to long before tourists showed up.

The life vests are an optional extra.

Local fishing boats.

Life in Santiago de Atitlan appears to be centred around the main square and open air market. The locals wear traditional dress, the women tend to favour lilac or purple cloth (the colour and type of cloth tell things about the individual such as marital status, ethnic origin and social standing) the men on the other hand tend to like the stetson style hat and brightly coloured knee length shorts (kind of a gay cowboy look).

Every day's market day.

The Tuc Tuc (local taxi and three wheeled death trap)

Main Street, Santiago.

More Photos from Santiago de Atitlan

The dreaded chicken bus.

John Wayne would not have approved!

Bloody tourists!

Local weaving.

Local art

And woodwork.

Spot the Norwegian Blue.

"Hammock Sir"

Always carry chickens under your arm, not on your head.

The locals have a noticeable dislike of being photographed and will usually turn away or shield their faces.

Life is tough here and it shows on the faces of the old, years of toil and oppressive heat turn young coffee coloured complexions into skin that resembles finely carved mahogany or tooled leatherwork.

This is probably why they call a room on a boat a 'birth'

After a few days in Panajachel Joe felt fit enough to ride and we needed to make time getting across the border and into El Savador. We didn't want to get caught near the border on the Day of the Dead which is a big occasion in Central America, people celebrate big time and remember loved ones no longer with them. It could also be a time when people that have to work are struck with CBA (Can't be Arsed) fever. The planning involved in crossing borders is usually more precise than the get up, pack up, ride for the morning and look for somewhere to stay the night. The best time to get to the border is early and if possible before the tour buses get there so you need to stop the night before near the border if possible and also have a destination close to border on the other side to avoid a long drive if the border crossing is time consuming.

As it turned out when we got to the border there was only us and this kid with no paperwork.

Next on DUE SOUTH.......Three countries in one day