First some roadside ramblings. A lot of local Spanish is very similar to English; a barberia for example is a barber shop. However you can get caught out. Take Auto-Hotel for example. One would guess, and be right, that it's a motel. But the design is very particular. Usually located just outside small towns, they are gated. The accommodation is above locked garage doors. There seems to be no way of accessing the accommodation except from within the garage as there are no external stairs or balconies. In a blacked out car nobody would see you come and go. They often have large fluorescent signs outside. They tend to have names like Auto Hotel Eve, Auto Hotel Paradaiso, Auto Hotel Venus, Auto Hotel Love etc.
Sometimes you need to be wary that the words don't trick you. A Farmacia is not a farm shop and a Cementeria is not a cement shop. Similarly you can't buy ferrets at a Ferreteria. Unfortunately; you never know when you might need a ferret. Although we have been feeling that our Spanish has been improving, it felt as though we were taking a backwards step when we arrived in Guatemala. People didn't understand us and we struggled to understand them. It would seem that for the majority of Guatemalans, Spanish is not their first language as they speak a Mayan language first with Spanish as their second language.
It is impossible to do everything on a trip like this and we are a tad sad that we were not in either Colombia or Guatemala for Holy Week, as it would have been very spectacular. Nice as Costa Rica was for Easter, there didn't seem to be much of a religious culture - it was just a holiday. Our first major stop in Guatemala was Antigua which is another Spanish Colonial town, but with loads of ruined and partially ruined churches. The ruination was due to earthquakes. Holy week here is massive processions through the streets. There were so many churches in Antigua that only a few were rebuilt post earthquake. The town is overshadowed by volcanoes and one of them, Volcano Fuego, erupts every 20 minutes. They are all above 3,000m and shrouded in mist; the hike to see them was a two day affair requiring a base camp and described as being 'arduous'. Not sure as to how our altitude acclimatisation was, we gave it a miss. The big thing about Antigua however is that all the streets are cobbled and the cobbles are all over the place. And it's not much fun to ride on them.
Chichicastenango is reputedly Central America's biggest market, happening twice a week. So we went to have a look. Sometimes you wonder whether local people dress for the tourists or not? It is clearly not the case here. The local dress is everywhere. It is almost impossible to find a female of any age not dressed in Mayan dress - small sizes only, we are the giants here. It is very unlikely that Guatemala has a basketball team, male or female.
Everything is exceedingly colourful here on the market. There was no local DHL, so purchases were limited and the topbox is straining. The colours also extend to the cemetery. Though the Taj Mahal was white.
The chicken buses are also very colourful and, like some of the Mayan women who have a sparkly thread woven into their tops, the buses have tons of chrome bling.
The church at Chichicastenango was a strange mix of Catholic and Mayan customs. On the 18 (linked to the 18 Mayan calendar months) steps leading to the church there was a continual fire of candles and flower petals. Mayans were swinging incense burners at the entrance to the church and inside the worshippers 'walked' on their knees up and down the central aisle, lighting coloured candles as they went. It was said that all this was because the church had been built on top of a Mayan temple but you see incense and candles in Catholic churches too. We have also seen pilgrims on their knees as they approach holy places in other countries. So Mayan or Catholic?
A total change of scenery as we rode to Lago Atitlan which is surrounded by mountains and volcanoes. We stayed at the lakeside villa of a very well known Central American biker called 'Cisco'. The access to his villa was at least 45°(he said 50°); it was an immediate drop from the 'road' which was the usual bomblast rock and gravel except for the mound of loose earth you had to get over first. And there was a 120° turn half way down. Panic. However valet parking ensured that the PanAm was ridden down with ease for us... As for the lake itself we were surprised that it was warm to swim in, especially at over 1,000m altitude.
Apparently the ring of mountains gives the place a special energy which could explain the multitude of yoga, meditation, metaphysical healing things going on, including Mayan Cocoa ceremonies. Really? It was all a bit much for us. The knock-on effect from this is that the village where we stayed, San Marcos la Laguna has, apart from some plastic looking sausages in one shop, no butcher or supermarket. It is totally vegetarian, almost vegan. Luckily there was still some alcohol. There was also a 'fiesta' going on during the afternoon with a Central American Blues Brothers equivalent including getting two sparkly miniskirts girls, whilst the dance floor was taken over by local ladies swaying in their typical dress.
The easiest way to travel between villages is with 'lonchas'; also a fun way of cooling down a bit. That's how we explored the adjoining San Juan la Laguna, which at least had meat products in the restaurants, if not in the shops, and was probably the most touristy place we have come across in Central America. Decent coffee and cake too.
