Guatemala Motorcycle Adventure Travelogue Part 1

Be sure to start at the home page regarding our Guatemala motorcycle adventure.

Here is a list of the hotels where we stayed and what I thought of them.

Also, Here is our route.

My Travelogue for Guatemala: Part 1

I have never been as apprehensive about a trip as this one to Guatemala. I was worried about my motorcycle riding abilities in relation to the roads we would experience. I was worried about the political situation in the country. I was worried about wolf spiders. I was worried about the 250 motorcycle being low enough for me to ride safely. I was worried we wouldn't be able to find things to do and enjoy while there: we had Lonely Planet Guatemala, and all of its suggested activities are for areas we would not be visiting, for festivals that would not be occurring while we were there, and for things I can't do, like hike up a volcano. At one point before we left, I convinced myself we had made a huge mistake and should have booked a trip to Ecuador instead, especially given the political situation in Guatemala. But then the political situation in Ecuador got VERY dire and so I let go of that.

I just didn't feel ready for this trip. My anxiety was through the roof. It made preparations difficult. People would say, "You must be so excited about your trip" and I would think, nope, I'm terrified. But I'd lie and say I was.

We had an evening flight from Portland (PDX) to Los Angeles (LAX), and then an overnight flight to Guatemala, arriving in the country the next morning. Therefore, it was really important to get a good night's sleep the night before. I don't do well with sleep deprivation, and I hated that the first thing I had to do when I arrived in Belize last year was take a nap. I was determined that that would not be what happened in Guatemala. But life had other plans: the night before, Lucinda the dog woke me up at 2 a.m., pacing and slightly whining. I was up with her for most of the rest of the night, watching her, as she frantically went outside, sat in the backyard looking stressed, and then would come back inside a few minutes later. I was trying not to cry. My mind was racing. How dire is this condition? Should we go to the emergency vet? Did I have to cancel my trip? Should Stefan go without me? I would not leave her like this, no matter the financial loss. And after two hours of this, when she was inside the house, she suddenly started to make the "I'm going to poop" movement, so I let her outside, and when she came back in after a few minutes, she was joyous - it was obvious she'd experienced what she needed. But was she still ill? Would this happen again?

I spent the day cleaning the house and otherwise preparing for the trip and watching Lucy, to make sure she was fine. And she was fine. But I was operating on four hours of sleep, and about to get on an overnight flight where it was doubtful I would get much more sleep. And I really cannot emphasize enough how badly I do on lack of sleep.

A co-worker from my job very generously volunteered to drive us from my house to the train stop for the light rail to the Portland airport, saving us quite a bit of money, and she was stunned at how little we were taking for a two week trip: a backpack carry on, a carry on suitcase (which had my dry bag and other items in it), and our helmets (and some things inside the helmets). That's it. We were wearing our motorcycle pants and jackets. We packed just like we did for Belize. On such little bikes, there isn't room for more than what we were taking.

The Trimet train ride to the airport was blissfully uneventful. We didn't already have our boarding passes, because airlines won't give us that in advance for international flights because Stefan isn't a US citizen. But once at PDX, we got through check in no problem. Security was a bit of a problem: Stefan forgot to take the pads out of our motorcycle pants. I still got through just fine, but he did not. TSA staff ended up taking him to a booth where he took off his pants and they brought them back out and ran them through the X-Ray machine.

We flew Alaska Airlines and, weirdly, Stefan and I were in different boarding groups, with me being in the earlier group. They were repeating the "you cannot take on more than two carry ons" statement while allowing people take on more than two carry ons - that always pisses me off. I got to the front and the attendant said I had to check my bag and I smiled and said, "No, I have an international connection, I have to have it." So she let me take it on board; I found a place for it. Because I'm in the middle seat, my helmet really does NOT fit in the seat in front of me - I put it in as far as it will go and then took off my jacket and put it over my knees, so they can't see I'm breaking the rules. I'd feel bad about that but since they let all the early borders take on three or more bags, screw 'em.

I kept my seat belt on at ALL times. It was NEVER off. A big hole appearing in the plane and me getting sucked out into the sky is a HUGE fear for me, and as that it had just happened to an Alaska Airlines flight (but without any person being sucked out of the plane, only because that row was empty), had me on edge, along with all my other trip anxiety. 

I think I dozed for 30 minutes for the entire flight. We got to Los Angeles and, wow, it's a HORRIBLE airport. One of the worst I've ever been to. We had to rush to get food, because everything was about to close at 9 p.m. Then we discovered that you can't leave the small terminal and go to another terminal for better food options - if you do, you have to go through security again, and security CLOSES before midnight - if you don't get back in time, you miss your connecting flight. There wasn't enough plugs to power phones (and of the ones they had, more than half didn't work), the floors were filthy, and the cleaning crew closed the bathrooms to clean them - and the terminal was PACKED with people needing those bathrooms. LAX was dreadful all around. We had a three hour layover, and I had to lay down on that filthy floor to try to sleep, even for just 30 minutes. I was mentally checked out, I was fighting a headache, I was having trouble thinking clearly, and I felt like, even when I was supposedly awake, I was trying not to drool.

After we got on the flight, I was shocked that everyone, to a person, turned off their lights and went to sleep. There is always that jerk on a night flight that thinks it's okay to have lights on and chat. But not on this flight. So I tried to sleep. I slept an hour, maybe 90 minutes. My heart burn was the worse it's been in years. My back hurt. I was getting nauseous. My feet hurt. I felt every pound of my obesity. I was beyond uncomfortable. I was miserable. I was trying not to cry. But, hey, at least I didn't have time to think about all my previous trip anxiety. But the reality is that things weren't going well. I was so tired, I was afraid I would start hallucinating. And just as I was unbuckling my seat to go to the bathroom one more time, the steward announced that the bathrooms were closed until we were at the gate. And we were not anywhere close to landing. By the time we landed and were at the gate, I was on the verge of peeing my seat. I had to fight my way through people in the aisle, with their luggage, to get to the back of the plane to pee - knowing that it meant we'd be the last ones off the plane and knowing everyone hated me.

I just kept trying to comfort myself with this thought: things could be far, far worse. And they could have: we could have missed a flight. The person in front of me could have tilted the seat back. And on and on.

Once we got off the plane, we were surprised to find not only a modern, beautiful Guatemala City airport, but that the immigration process was almost entirely digitized! You fill out the form on your smart phone (if you don't have a smart phone, they have computers set up for you to use), and there were people everywhere ready to help. Was it flawless? No, but it was impressive! By the time you get to passport control, they have all your info and you slide right through. Wow!

We walked out of the airport and got a taxi at the price I wanted and didn't have to bargain for ($50). It took just an hour to get from Guatemala City to Antigua. Before we left the airport, we passed people taking their driver's license test, people taking their motorcycle license test, and a large horse-training facility. I was SO TIRED - but still looking at the window and taking it all in: Guatemala City seemed endless. A lot of trash. The architecture and age of everything reminded me a lot of Havana.

Hey, there's a chicken bus! We're in Central America at last! Hey, there's a mosque! Did not expect that. I was also already seeing street dogs, which made me sad. The air pollution was really bad. We learned later that it was because of farmer's burning fields and jungle. The driver had to go a weird, convoluted way to get out of the city, but at last, we were out. Everything was hilly... was I really going to ride a motorcycle here? Well, everyone else is, so...

We got to Antigua and turned onto the cobblestone streets and it was every bit as bouncy and rough as what I imagined. And I realized our first ride on the motorcycles was going to be on THIS. Yikes... But it looked beautiful. There were lines of tourists everywhere, all over the tiny sidewalks above the cobblestone. Was a special event going on in the city that had brought all this car traffic and tourists. Or was this just a typical Friday?

We got to our tiny hotel, Hotel Vista Al Cerro, where we had reservations for our first two nights, and I liked it immediately: it's a basic, clean, well-worn, affordable hotel, in a good location, and the staff could NOT have been friendlier. We were early, and they let us sit in the small reception area while they scrambled to get our room ready, which we so appreciated. We got to our room - which was quite large - and crashed. I had to sleep for a couple of hours. I hated doing that - welcome to Guatemala, now go to sleep. But given my previous 48 hours, there just wasn't any other alternative.

We got up eventually - I was still exhausted, and probably should have slept another hour - and went out to explore a bit of Antigua, get a SIM card for Stefan's phone and get a meal. We've never gotten a SIM card in a foreign country before, relying on hotel and restaurant Internet access instead, but I felt like we couldn't count on that in Guatemala and I really wanted to always reserve a hotel 24 hours in advance, or to be able to pull over on the outskirts of a town and look up a hotel to head for. Now that we've done it, we're both kicking ourselves that we have never done this before in Canada and Mexico - it was so easy and so freakin' convenient for the rest of the trip! The staff at the little stationary store where we bought the SIM card took Stefan's phone in hand and set everything up for us and made sure it all worked before they handed the phone back to Stefan (who, of course, had brought a little container for his USA SIM card to keep it protected out of his phone).

We were so hungry and neither of us were quite thinking straight. We decided on a restaurant that was on a rooftop. It seemed a bit run down, but it was our first restaurant here - maybe they are all like this? We stared through the haze at the volcanoes while our food took FOREVER to come. We wondered how often it's actually clear in Antigua so you can really see the volcanoes and mountains all around. We were about to give up and leave when our food finally showed up. Both dishes were supposedly traditional Guatemala dishes. They weren't good: the meats were smothered in a sauce that was nothing to brag about, and neither was the meat. We were so hungry, we ate several bites, though neither of us finished. It wasn't awful, but we should have walked away before the food arrived: we both got quite sick hours later, and for the next 48 hours.

But we weren't sick as we left the restaurant, and didn't know that was coming, so we did a bit more of sight seeing. There were SO many tourists, both foreigners and Guatemalans. We also had our first ATM experience, which was stressful - the machine had a red "yes" button and a green "no" button, which led to some confusion. And the dog situation was heart-breaking. I was so tired, I didn't take any photos that first day. So far, I wasn't really enjoying this trip, but I just kept thinking, I'm sleep deprived, I just got here, it will be better tomorrow. Stefan got hungry again as night fell, so we went to a place for a light supper, and once again, had a very mediocre meal - but plenty of delicious Gallo beer (we love it) and very friendly service. We went back to the hotel and, after visiting the rooftop of the hotel and finding that, if two people are already there (and there were), there's no room for anyone else, we went back to the room and drank some beer we bought at a tienda, and then I crashed.

BTW, the hotel rooftop has a wonderful view of the frequently-erupting volcano. What a shame only two people at a time can enjoy it.

Wow, this trip sounds miserable so far, right? And I had 11 days to go and hadn't even seen my motorcycle yet. So, why write about all this initial misery? Because so many of you think I lead this gifted life and travel is always glorious. It's not. All of this misery can also be a part of travel. All this is a part of LIFE. It's part of the experience - I don't want to gloss over it. I want to remember I got through it. And what got me through it all was what I said earlier: it could be so much worse. We weren't robbed. The weather was decent. We were here with all our luggage. The dog sitter had texted to say Lucinda was fine. We had all sorts of meds to deal with all the gastro intestinal nonsense that was starting. I knew things were likely to get better. Plus, I want to remind you that the vast majority of travel influencers, bloggers and vloggers leave all the bad stuff out of their accounts, even though it DOES happen to them. But the bad times don't generate views or likes (or revenue), so you don't hear about it from them.

I woke up a lot that first night in Guatemala, both because I was getting sick and because I always have trouble sleeping somewhere new. I woke up for good in the morning earlier than I wanted - we were right next to the kitchen and laundry, and the staff was chatty. But honestly, I didn't care, not really. I didn't feel 100%, but I was so happy to have gotten a decent night's sleep, enough to be more than functional. And the staff were just so sweet and helpful - how could I be mad about them getting me up early? I was ready to explore the city, meet my motorcycle, and start fresh - and I eventualy felt like the meds for the gastro intestinal nonsense were working.

We went for breakfast at Puerta Once Antigua, which wasn't far from our hotel, and I thought it was excellent. I had pancakes and eggs and it was my first experience with Guatemalan coffee (AMAZING). The restaurant seems quite popular with both backpackers and Guatemalans. I was feeling much better about everything and was ready to explore. 

We walked to Motorcycle Adventure Guatemala (MAG) - not a short walk - to have a look at our motorcycles, get necessary info from the owner, etc., though we wouldn't leave on them until the next day. Stefan would be on a Honda XR 250 Tornado and, at first, I was too: the owner of MAG had prepared a lowered Tornado for me. But it felt WAY too tall. I was uncomfortable. The owner offered an old Yamaha XT 250, which he has a love/hate relationship with. I am 5’ 4” (162.56 cm) with a 29” (73.66 cm) inseam, and the Yamaha was a PERFECT fit for me. I waffled for a while - take a much older bike, though the owner assures me it is absolutely reliable, or take this newer bike which I KNOW is too tall. I went with logic and took the Yamaha - I think being able to easily and firmly touch the ground with a foot at a stop is essential in Guatemala (I sometimes had to walk the bike as well, and never could have on the Tornado).

The owner agreed to hold my suitcase until we returned the bikes after our trip - I had my dry bag an all my things in the suitcase, which allows me to carry a few more things as well, which I was able to put into the provided saddle bags, along with water. He even provided straps for our dry bags. We designed our trip ourselves, but he was happy to look at our planned route and offer advice (which we took - we changed some things per his advice). I'm sure if we had asked for hotel recommendations, he would have given them. And you don't have to read to the end of this travelogue to find out these motorcycles were absolutely reliable and performed very well and did everything we needed them to do. If you are an experienced motorcycle rider and ready to tackle the very steep roads and jaw-dropping hair pin turns of Guatemala, and you are a man, I highly recommend renting from Motorcycle Adventure Guatemala.

Yes, if you are a man. While I gave the owner a very good review on Trip Advisor, because he absolutely did what he was paid to do, and did that part well, his contempt for me was immediate and impossible not to notice. The owner mostly ignored me, wouldn't look at me, showed how the choke worked on my bike to Stefan instead of me (and completely blocked my view during his demo), wouldn't respond to my comments, scoffed at a couple of my questions, talked over me... it was clear he doesn't like renting to women motorcyclists. I thought I might be imagining it, but it was confirmed after our trip by another motorcyclist on a women's motorcycle group, who said she tried to rent from him a few year's ago and he refused because she was a solo woman traveler. She wrote a scathing review online and the co-owner of that time, who is not there now, contacted her and asked to try to work things out, apologized, etc. I gave MAG a very good review on Trip Advisor because the owner did what we paid him for, the motorcycles are VERY well maintained, he kept saying the old Yamaha really was reliable, etc. - and all of that was true. But he really, really needs to work on his attitude with women customers. And he said he's selling the Yamaha VERY soon, as soon as its ride after me is done, and says there are no 250s that he can make as low as that one, so for you short women out there - MAG may not be an option for rental once the Yamaha is gone.

We walked to Old Town Outfitters to get the walking stick that Stefan had bought for me online back before Christmas. It was such an incredible, thoughtful gift! I hate having to have a walking stick, but on treacherous terrain, like Mayan ruins, or really long walks, or hills, I have to have a hiking stick. Of course it makes me look every inch of the old woman I am, unfortunately.

We walked around Antigua, with me no longer being sleep deprived, ready to really see the sights. We focused on church ruins - the city is packed with them. Antigua was the Spanish-designated capital of Guatemala until the 1700s, when a massive earthquake destroyed most of the city. Unfortunately, I didn't take photos of each entrance of each ruined church as we entered, so I don't know which church is which in our photos. These were all massive buildings at one time, some with an associated monastery, and it's stunning to think of what they once looked like.

In El Patronato de la Catedral, we went down the precarious steps from what was once the sanctuary to the capilla de los reyes or kings chapel, and the acoustics were so good, I sang the alto line of the first bars of some of Shubert''s Kyrie from his Mass in G (I sounded really good, by the way). And in another church ruin, there was at least a dozen people, maybe more, setting up for one of the most elaborate weddings I have ever seen. Turns out Antigua is a big player in the whole destination wedding thing, and the fashionable thing to do is to get married amid church ruins, and take 4 million photos of every part of the event. There is no doubt in my mind that this wedding costs well into the five figures. And that doesn't take into account what all the guests had to pay to schlep to and stay in Guatemala for such. Couldn't they have cut some of the budget and spent that money on some animal welfare groups in Guatemala?

For lunch, we ate at Como Como, a Belgium-inspired and very chic restaurant. We wanted to eat somewhere that we felt would not extend our gastro issues. Stefan had a chicken Kyiv he was very fond of, and I had two appetizers I loved: a green tomato gazpacho and homemade potato croquettes. Good food and atmosphere - I loved it, even if it wasn't traditional Guatemalan, in terms of food. I just love all the open air restaurants of Central America, lined with vines and other plants and all feeling like some rich person's patio.

Stefan took tons of photos of Santa Catalina Arch, though he could never get the photo he wanted: one with no one in it. As we were in Antigua on a weekend, the street under the arch was packed with people at all times - we are in several people's selfies and group photos.

We didn't go to the Hill of the Cross, because we just didn't really see a reason: with the air so thick with pollution, the views wouldn't be that great. We could look up at it from downtown, that was enough. We didn't go to the ChocoMuseo, because I want to EAT chocolate, not hear about the manufacturing process. We also didn't hike up in the evening to view the eruptions of Acatenango Volcano, because my knees would never be able to handle it and I bet I would have gotten altitude sickness. Stefan claimed he had no interest in going, but I wonder... even just standing in Antigua and looking through the haze of air pollution, the regular eruptions of Acatenango Volcano are astounding.

I decided I wanted a different hotel for our last night in Antigua, at the end of the trip, so we could have one more different, new experience just before we left Guatemala. Hotel Vista Al Cerro was FINE for our first two nights, and I really cannot emphasize enough how wonderful and friendly the staff is there. But I wanted to spend our last night on a rooftop or a garden, drinking Gallo beer, reflecting on what I hoped would be an amazing experience. So as we walked around the city, we started snapping photos of hotels that looked interesting, to look them up later online.

I also decided that I did not want to spend our last two nights in Antigua, as I had said I did before we got to the country - one would be fine. Originally, I thought just one full day in Antigua wouldn't be enough for me. But as my first full day progressed, I knew I was soon done with Antigua. We'd have half a day more in the city the day before we left Guatemala, and that would be enough time to visit a Mayan woman's cooperative and buy something, if I hadn't already. 

My comments about the crowds of Antigua, which I posted to a few online communities, have come as a huge shock to those who have been to Antigua and love it. But I notice that all of those folks were last in Antigua at least five years ago, usually more. The city is still beautiful, absolutely. I'm so glad I was there. I wasn't miserable - it was interesting and I enjoyed it. I would love to have seen behind the door of one of the many beautiful homes. I love Roman-inspired architecture - I know that is SO colonialist, but I can't help it, it's undeniably beautiful. And how about the saucy mermaid fountain in the town square?! But I didn't enjoy Antigua the way others have. I can't imagine spending a full week there. It is VERY popular now with both domestic and foreign tourists, and it's hard to navigate the sidewalks with all those people, and I can enjoy only so many church ruins. We were often in a line of people as we walked along the street, and it makes it hard to stop and have a look at this or that, or to get a photo without hoards of tourists in it. 

If you go to Antigua, if at all possible, avoid the weekend.

And there were the dogs... so many dogs... clearly loved when they were born, then abandoned when they were adults and not "cute" anymore. I know they were loved at first because they aren't at all aggressive and they look at you with that look of an abused child. Most won't get close to you at all, no matter how hungry. It's beyond heart-breaking. And the condition of the dogs, and their numbers, was getting to me. I started saving food after meals and putting leftovers in my pocket so I could feed some of them: I'd put the food down and then walk away so they knew it was safe to approach it. Please go to the first page of this section of my web site to see a list of NGOs trying to make things better regarding street dogs in Guatemala. 

That second evening in Antigua, I also suggested that we book a room for our next stop on Lake Atitlan. After we both looked at various places online and said "What about this?" to each other several times, we chose one and reserved. Except for one night, we did this every evening for the rest of the trip: reserved a hotel the night before our next stop. Absolutely the right thing to do. Took away SO much stress, but kept the trip spontaneous.

That night, my belly was still wonky, but the next day, Sunday morning, we went for breakfast at Puerta Once Antigua again, and I had the exact same thing for breakfast: pancakes and eggs. Why mess with a good thing? We took a tuk tuk - an auto rickshaw - to the bike rental place and it was every bit as crazy bumpy as I had imagined. I felt like my corneas were going to separate from my eyeballs. We also got ripped off by the tuk tuk driver because we didn't ask first what the price was. Oh, well... we overpaid by a whopping $7. I don't really mind, but we didn't let it happen again.

The owner of MAG was not quite so abrasive with me that morning as our first meeting, but I also tried not to make any conversation. We packed our dry bags on the back of the bikes, put some things in the saddlebags on my bike (Stefan's saddle bags had all the tools, provided by MAG), and we were ready to go. I'm sure the owner rolled his eyes when Stefan asked if I wanted him to push my motorcycle outside onto the cobblestones, so I didn't have to ride it out and immediately make a sharp right turn just to park it, as I'd never ever ridden the bike before. Whatever. I said yes. The last thing I wanted to do was drop the bike in the first 60 seconds I rode it. And for the record, I did NOT drop it, ever. I'm very proud of that.

And... we were off! I was so glad it was not raining - riding those wet cobblestones of Antigua in the rain would have been oh-so-slippery and miserable. It was intense getting out of the city: a LOT of traffic, a lot of stopping and starting, Stefan told me a motorcyclist almost rear-ended me in the first three minutes of our riding... and then very early on, we went up the first of many super sharp, uphill hairpin turns to the right and my bike died. Which is a common problem on my KLR. I panicked, I freaked out - there was traffic everywhere and I was preparing to be annihilated by a chicken bus from the rear. Stefan, via our helmet communications system, talked me through it. I got the bike restarted and managed to get it into gear and ride out. One of the reasons I was freaking was that the clutch was not engaging as I felt it should - which I didn't know how to verbalize at the time (I am rotten at talking about motorcycle functions and mechanics). Later on the trip, he adjusted the clutch so that it engaged much more quickly, and it made riding SO much better.

But it was so difficult that first day. We had to do part of the Pan American Highway and I HATED it. It's a big, ugly, horrible highway. We passed a group of sports cars parked on the side of the road, staging to race, and I knew that they would come up on us before we turned off - and of course they came up on us just as I was trying desperately to get over to the left lane to try to make a difficult left turn I had missed - I almost got rear-ended at high speed. Everything on that first day seemed to be going wrong. I wasn't having fun.

Oh, the Yamaha XT 250... I eventually loved it. It is an old version of the motorcycle, and MAG said I would be the second to the last customer to ride it, because he was selling it ASAP. He said he didn't like the bike because it was so hard to work on, but that it would be absolutely reliable. And he was right - any mistakes made were all on me, like going up that hill in the wrong gear and it dying. He also said the bike would really struggle going up hills, and he made a sound like the motor struggling and missing, and I heard that sound for myself a lot that first day. I felt like, on that first day, the bike was just not going to make it. But, spoiler alert: after two days of riding the bike, I figured that bike out and how to ride it so it didn't make that sound: if I didn't go full throttle up a hill, the motor didn't miss. I began to trust the bike's power in second and third gear in super tight uphill turns, and by day three of riding the bike, I felt absolutely fine on it. Count me as a fan of the Yamaha XT 250, even the really old ones.

I also was so happy I had gone with the Yamaha instead of the lowered Honda Tornado. As I said, I feel very strongly that I need to be able to confidently, easily touch the ground on at least one food without having to tilt the bike either at all or too much. I never, ever would have made it out of that first sharp high turn that I killed the engine on if I'd been on the Tornado. There were other occasions where I needed to stop and start, or walk the bike, or backtrack and make a really sharp U turn, and I would not have been able to do it on the Tornado. Guatemala, even if you stick to just pavement, is a tough country to ride in, and I feel you need to have absolute comfort and confident on a motorcycle to navigate it successfully.

It took a while, but at last, I was beginning to enjoy the ride on Highway 1 West from Patzun to Panajachel (Pana, for short). It finally felt so good to be riding.

Then I saw the road was ending into dirt, and there was a turn in that dirt. And there was a river crossing at the bottom of a hill - a crossing I immediately recognized from when Noraly / Itchy Boots and another motorcyclist we watch on YouTube crossed it. We pulled over, I had a pee in the bushes (only one of twice on our entire trip I had to pee in the wild), and we watched a bicyclist come partially down the hill on the other side, have a long look at it, and then ride through the river no problem. I wish we'd recorded him - we didn't know he had a YouTube channel and I'm sure he would have appreciated the footage (his name is André Breton) - he's headed to Ushuaia. He seemed surprised when I asked, "So, are you headed to Ushuaia?", but I know what a loaded down motorcycle or bicycle is doing headed South...

We watched more people in cars cross the water, and finally, traffic died down again and it was our turn. Here's a video of Stefan making the river crossing.

And then there's me:


Nothing makes me feel quite so triumphant as a successful river crossing on my motorcycle. Give me a water crossing over a highway or lots of traffic any day.

We got to the city of Panajachel, and between Stefan's GPS and Google Maps, we still couldn't find our hotel. So we pulled over on the main street and I walked over to a Tuk Tuk and in my broken Spanish, asked if he would go to our hotel and we would follow, and then we would pay him. He said yes and I told him we were looking for Casa Amaranto, and he said, "oh, it's just down this road here, you will not miss it, it is not far, there is no need to pay me." And that kind of constant friendly helpfulness and refusal of payment was what we regularly encountered in Guatemala.

We went down the road he pointed out and immediately felt separated from the hustle and bustle of the main street. The sign for Casa Amaranto was tiny, but somehow I looked over and saw it. And the gate had just opened because a staff member was waiting for other guests. The lobby was a little bungalow and the rooms were on one side of a lovely garden around a pool. It was an oasis in bustling Panajachel and I was HERE FOR IT. We were pleased with the closed, locked gate and felt absolutely comfortable parking our motorcycles next to the lobby bungalow, even if it was out of view of our rooms.

I was so happy: the beautiful garden full of native plants and trees, the beautiful little pool, wood fired pizza for supper and a free welcome cocktail, a lovely clean room and a VERY comfy bed - almost perfect. No air conditioning but it cools off at night. Would have been nice to have had more ventilation in the room and way more hooks to hang things. We had booked for two nights, because I wanted to spend all day the next day - my birthday - crossing the lake and seeing two towns on the other side, and then come back and have a nice, easy evening.

We were a bit overheated, so we decided to take a swim. Brrrr! It was SO cold! But refreshing. After we finished barely swimming, it was still quite early, so we changed walked down through the town to the water front. We passed two businesses that had signs that said they accepted Bitcoin. Neither of us had ever seen any legitimate business that takes Bitcoin, even in Portland, Oregon.

We got to the lake front and it was sad: lined and packed with shacks that are stuffed with kitschy things to sell to tourists, no views of the lake. So, so many people, and so many places selling tchotchkes... it felt overwhelming. Nothing picturesque about it. And, oh, the street dogs... everywhere...

We walked passed the shacks selling stuff and went down to the lake side that is in front of a big dirt parking lot, watching Mayan families who were out for Sunday, packing up after their picnics and other gatherings as the day was ending. There were para gliders landing in the parking lot. The sea was full of rickety little boats. There was a group of young motorcycle riders down near the shoreline, taking photos. I took a photo of a Honda Element owned by a funeral home. After walking around we went back to one of the many restaurants with staff calling for us to come in and we had a couple of beers (Gallos, of course) and looked out at the water and hazy sky.

I also had been seeing so many, many Guatemalans wearing t-shirts that were clearly from the USA, and I started to notice many clothing stores selling what I realized was used clothing. The clothes were all very clean and well presented, but they were also obviously pre-owned - like this 1983 t-shirt from a Children's Miracle Network fundraiser. I don't think there is anything at all wrong with these shops reselling used clothing. And I hope no one in the USA is outraged to find out clothing they may have donated somewhere has ended up for sale for Guatemala or elsewhere - the world needs more recycling and reusing, and this is, in fact, a great example of it. 

We went back to our hotel and had our complimentary cocktail, then ordered wood-fired pizzas. We sat right next to the pool. There were a few other guests around, but the hotel wasn't full. There was a kitten that staff was holding or playing with, people were talking, music was playing - it was nice. I'm betting this place is super loud and lively on the weekends, but it was just the right vibe for us that night.

I invited a young couple to sit with us for dinner out in the garden - all the tables in the garden were taken - and they turned out to be German, from Bavaria. That day, they had been to San Juan de Lago and San Pedro de Lago, the cities across Lake Atitlan, and she said she had liked San Juan more than San Pedro. We chatted for a bit and I commented that I just hoped things didn't get dire since the President elect still hadn't been inaugurated, and both of their faces fell. "That was supposed to be today," she said in a serious tone. I said that, indeed, it was, but I'd checked the news, and it had been postponed - all these representatives from other countries were in Guatemala City, waiting for it to happen. The couple knew what it could mean as well as I did: if this man, who won by a landslide, was prevented from taking office, people were going to protest, roads would be blockaded... we would all be in for a very different experience in Guatemala than we had planned...

In the night, we heard very several loud firecrackers. I hoped a revolution hadn't started... maybe it was in anticipation of my birthday?

And my birthday did, indeed, come. Happy 58th birthday to me. We would be taking the day off from riding in order to cross Lake Atitlan and tour cities on the other side.

We ate breakfast in the hotel garden, I enjoyed one of many hammocks in the hotel garden, then I packed up my purse with some snacks and water. We headed back down to the waterway. The views were still so hazy. We just weren't getting that Lake Atitlan is paradise vibe that Lonely Planet Guatemala and so many travel web sites and other travelers said we'd experience. But wherever you go, there you are, and we were here.

I announced to the guys selling tickets to the passenger ferry that it was my birthday; they all congratulated me. My birthday is a BIG deal for me, and I want it to be for everyone else as well. I was hoping Stefan would coordinate someone to sing Happy Birthday to me, but it didn't happen.

We walked down to the the tiny boat, they packed it tight with passengers and off we went. The lake was relatively calm and I don't get sea sickness from just bouncing on a boat - it's the side-to-side rocking that kills me. Our first two stops were at shoreline resorts that are reached primarily by boat or scary steep dirt roads descending from over a mountain. Not all of these hotels and resorts are hugely expensive, though some are. I see the appeal: they look absolutely magical and you would feel absolutely magical being in such. But you also can't pop down to the local tienda for some beer and snacks.

Almost everyone disembarked at San Juan. As we walked on the wharf, I asked a local guy what all of the firecrackers were for. And of course I didn't understand his answer, because my Spanish is good enough to ask questions, but not good enough to always understand the answer. I thought he said it was for a saint's day. And that may have been true, in part.

The incline up from the port is jaw-dropping and, of course, I had forgotten my walking stick back at the hotel. DANG IT. But I was determined, and I slowly made it to the top.

The street is packed with a line of colorful places trying to sell you something.  I wasn't miserable, but I was getting tired of tourists and people trying to sell things to tourists. I wanted something more like Hopkins or San Ignacio in Belize, and instead I was getting lots of very touristy shopping streets. Once at the top of the street, we came to an old church and large, empty plaza. The church at one point started playing a recording of bells, or an amplification of a live bell ringing, and it was one of the worst sounds I've ever heard in my life! It's the kind of sound you hear in a horror movie when the couple visiting the remote town realize the town's annual celebration will involve killing the couple that's visiting. I laughed - and probably offended someone.

We wandered around the colorful town, which was preparing to inaugurate locally-elected officials, like the mayor: a stage near the main plaza was being decorated and sound and light systems brought in. There were oversized cutouts of previously-elected officials all around town, It was going to be quite a party. I really liked that this was a big deal. Maybe this was why the firecrackers were going off, because of the inaugurations?

We took lots of photos of the colorful streets, then got off the main drag and found simple, quiet, nondescript neighborhoods surrounding the tourist area. We stopped at a place for a light lunch and cold drinks and the TV was on - and we saw that César Bernardo Arévalo de León had been installed as the 52nd president of the country. HURRAH! He is a Guatemalan diplomat, sociologist, writer, and politician. And his inauguration meant no road blockades and general unrest. It also meant the will of the voters would be honored. I found out later, looking at the news, that the Biden administration played a key role in this happening: his administration started canceling the visas of members of the Guatemalan parliament that tried to prevent the duly-elected candidate from taking office (and that was about a third of them) and threatened other severe sanctions. European representatives were also threatening sanctions. Thanks, Joe! Still mad at you about Afghanistan though.

Anyway, we took a tuk tuk to San Pedro - that was QUITE a ride. Very steep, curvy roads. I thought about how I would be riding such roads through towns very soon. The driver dropped us in the town square, which was awash with locals. And I immediately liked San Pedro better than San Juan. It felt real. They were also getting ready for their inauguration of local officials. Families were out shopping. We were so in love with the clothes of local Mayan women - everyone looked elegant. There was a big farmer's market with produce. Shops were selling everything from speakers to motorcycles to plastic chairs to appliances to colorful clothes. We started walking down a main street that was taking us down to the shore, and realized it probably wasn't the shoreline we would eventually need to get a boat back across the lake, plus Google wasn't showing many restaurants at the shoreline, so we took a tiny street headed that headed in the direction we needed to go - North. And it turned out to be a charming street, my favorite part of the whole day. It's called 7 Avenida, but there's no sign. It's not wide enough for cars, so it's mostly pedestrians and very slow moving motorcycles. We even saw people on horse back. It's mostly tree covered and, as you walk, you will be able to peak into beautiful little gardens, some for restaurants, some for little hotels and hostels. If you are looking for a place to stay or eat in San Juan, find something on THIS street. We ate at a restaurant called The Clover - they have a nice little patio with some views of the lake. I had chicken nachos - I still was feeling a little wonky and wanted to stick with somewhat safe food. Dogs in the area got some chicken from my meal, of course, but not Stefan's.

We continued to walk north and west, through what is the main part of the city for tourists. There are a LOT of Spanish schools and a lot of restaurants. I liked it - but I couldn't see studying Spanish in such a place, since, with all the tourists, it really couldn't be considered an immersive experience.

There were also some Israeli-run businesses. I did not know that there is a sizable Israeli population in the country and that Guatemala is a big destination for Israelis for vacation, but it didn't take long to figure it out at Lake Atitlan, Even outside the area, you will see Guatemalan businesses with a "Shalom" sign somewhere. On the dark side, Israel has also sold weapons to Guatemalan right-wing governments, weapons that have been turned against the Maya population, and has provided "advisors" to the government and military regarding dealing with internal conflicts. And so has the USA: in the early 1980s, the Guatemalan military under General Jose Efrain Rios Montt, who came to power via a military coup in 1982, backed by former US President Ronald Reagan, conducted village massacres.

We went to the port where we thought we would take a boat back to Pana, and stopped for some very tasty treats and a last contemplation of the lake. But we found out we were NOT at the right port, and had to go to another one, one that was quite run down and not easy to walk to, because we had already bought our return ticket. Pro tip: do NOT buy a round trip ticket because you have to wait around for your company's boat, and it may take a long while. Buying a one way ticket is a bit more expensive, but gives you a lot more flexibility. We headed over to the port and were told we couldn't go until there were enough people for a full boat. We sat in the designated area, and a few people started walking up and went right out onto the dock. I started to get nervous that they would get on and fill up a boat and we'd be left - and the last boat time was not too far away - so we walked out too. I'm so glad we did because, indeed, a boat FINALLY arrived and they filled it up with the folks on the dock - there was a guy sitting back on the benches that I don't think realized he was, literally, missing the boat.

We walked back to the hotel and got some beer at a local tienda. The restaurant and bar at our hotel was closed and there was only one other guest. We had the whole garden to ourselves. We drank beer and I played with or held the adorable hotel kitten, which I learned had just shown up a few days ago out of nowhere, and was now thoroughly spoiled. The manager was feeding the cat proper cat food and had already made an appointment to get her fixed.

It had been a nice birthday. But I was feeling every bit of my age and weight. I so longed for my pre-COVID size. This trip would be so much easier without even just 25 pounds, let alone 55.
 
That night was rough for Stefan. He was still paying for that first bad meal, and maybe something else he'd eaten or drank was messing with him as well. He didn't get much sleep. I share this only because I want to emphasize the vital importance of taking medication with you on a trip, if you are legally allowed to. Guatemala has a lot of pharmacies, in case you forget something, but you can't get the volume of meds in one purchase that you can in the USA. Meds saved our trip. I'm happy to say he was well enough the next day to continue the trip as planned.

Travelogue Part 2.

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