To Lago de Atitlan

July 13th and 14th

We had planned to ride Guatemala with Anna and Ali who we caught up with in Xela (pronounced Shell-a), however a family bereavement forces them to return prematurely to Holland. Our day at Fuentes proves to be our last together for a while and our thoughts are with them as they leave. They have had an awful run of luck lately and deserve better in the future.

On the road there are a couple of steep climbs out of Xela towards San Christobal and Quatro Caminos (4 ways) where we rejoin the Pan American Highway and head south east in to the teeth of the Sierra Madre mountain range.

The landscape here is volcanic. We are leaving 3 huge volcanoes behind at Xela and there are 3 more surrounding the 100 square kilometres of Lago de Atitlan. It’s brutal, tortured terrain and we cross a 3670m pass on route. It all starts fairly benignly as we cross a wide plain, but the backdrops are spectacular - tall peaks menaced by brooding grey storm clouds…



Minerals from volcanic ash is hugely fertile and the rains keep everything a rich emerald green during the rainy season….



Then the road angles upwards and we begin the 30km climb over the pass…



Sue thinks there might be a spot of rain…



And soon after, we ride through skies turned to water and get a thorough soaking. The air cools noticeably as the heat of the day is washed away and any heat generated by our climbing is finely balanced with the chill in the damp air.

Then, as quickly as the storm arrives, it races away across the valley and we are treated to a distant light show as leaden skies are ripped by forks of lightning….


It’s a watery scene left behind as fields of crops defy gravity to avoid sliding down the hillside….


Finally we cross the pass and the road rolls dramatically over the top. What goes up…..



In a series of blindingly fast bends we test our tyres on the rain slicked surface in 10kms of pure joy.

Exhausted we reach Nahuela, a small indigenous Mayan town about as far off the gringo trail as it’s possible to get. Things do not look too promising when we arrive and are confronted by a group of men outside a cantina or local bar. Slurring and swaying with blood shot watery eyes, it’s difficult to understand what they say, but gestures are universal and it’s clear they are begging for the price of their next drink.

I check the first hotel and it’s obviously overpriced with a smell of urine from communal bathrooms that makes your nostrils constrict in protest. Asking around reveals that the only other place in town is above the cantina. Yes - that cantina, so bravely I step over the girl passed out in the doorway and pull back a curtain to enter the place. It’s a mistake as I am immediately accosted by several locals who surround me and set about trying to kill me by breathing in my face. The local firewater here has to be diluted with petrol - it’s the only way to take away that nasty aftertaste.

The bartender, who obviously understands the dangers of drinking is safe in his cage and I politely ask about the room through thick metal bars. Suddenly I come to my senses and wonder what I am doing. I tell him never mind about that room….

We’re too exhausted to leave town after a day spent climbing and after the cantina the other hostel suddenly looks just fine. I buy a fresh round of “mind rotter” for my new pals in the bar so that I can leave in one piece and do just that - quickly.

This is the better of the two places and the room is just large enough for a large single bed and 2 bicis. It’s just a shame this photo is not scratch and sniff to reproduce the full ambiance….



But bici touring is all about contrasts and Nahuela is definitely in contrast to the Guatemala we have seen so far. We make the short hop from the ridiculous to the sublime as we drop another near vertical 1000m down to the lake….

And find a hotel outside Panajachel doing a midweek bargain. We hit the private pool with lakeside view and contemplate how life has changed since last night....

Fuentes Georginas

July 9th

A day out!

We ride 18kms out of Xela with Anna and Ali to some hot springs at 'Fuentes Georginas'. It's a stunning ride south of the city to Zunil and then up a steep track to a volcanically heated natural pool. I'm really excited - it's my first bath since Klamath in Northern California....

Volcanic soil is highly fertile and coupled with the almost daily rain storms during the wet season, it's prime growing land.

We climb the side of a steep valley and look down on a child's drawing - patchwork fields and a picture book perfect 'U' shaped canyon. Puffy clouds and swirling mists lend drama to the scene....

Fuentes Georginas!

Picture dense undergrowth - fern leaves straight out of a dinosaur movie; giant trees dripping in the humidity.

Set in the rock wall is a natural hollow. Water dribbles from hidden springs, lava-heated to a comfortable bath-tub temperature. Cool rain spatters the pool that forms, green from minerals and dimly reflecting the emerald vegetation. There's a strong smell of sulphur in the thick air and a dense layer of condensation forms from the heat.

We are early and this secluded grotto belongs to us alone....

Susy is a happy bunny....

And why not - this is the life!!!

It's wonderful. A little eden of perfectly formed nature.

But it cannot last, and in time, others arrive - breaking the spell of this magical place.

It's OK though, they bring food and are more than happy to welcome us to their beautiful country with tacos and cold, fresh coconut juice. Their hospitality and friendliness is amazing.

But this mineral heavy water is slowly turning my skin to smush and I am wrinkled and look like I've aged a thousand years when we at last drag ourselves away. We feel incredible though and the waters are alledged to have healing properties - a claim that is easy to believe as my previously squeaky knees now glide and slide like a slippy slidey thing.

The rain eases up and the other side of the valley becomes visible as 3 tiny cyclists roll past crop laden fields.....

Up close, they are vivid and busting with ripeness (the crops - not the cyclists)....

A sample....

The descent is a screamer - a zooming series of zig-zags made slippy and exilerating by the rain....

Every country should have a 'Fuentes Georginas' and I'm applying for planning permission for one in Manchester....

Xela

July 2nd to 5th

A new country brings with it new types of dress, culture, manerisms, food and of course new types of bugs.... For the first time on tour, I am laid low by the microscopic and my insides turn first to jelly, then to liquid. It's not pleasant and we are forced to stay in Huehuetenango (Way-way-tenango) for an over-long 3 days.

You need your strength to ride Guatemala and my wobbly legs are sorely tested after a brief drop into a valley at Malancancito. After that it's all climbing along a twisting mountain road 55kms up to Pologua.

The Guatemaltecos seem to be noticeably more industrious than the Mexican across the border and the earth takes on a patchwork look as all available land is cultivated....

Everywhere trees have been cleared to be replaced by corn, raddish, chilis, carrot and inumerable other vegetables. Angles are no deterrent and near vertical slopes fall under the ox driven plough. Where ox cannot tread, fields are ploughed by hand....

Here no one just sits and stares into space, all are busy and there's a buzz about the place that was lacking in rural Mexico.

Wealth is demonstrated in smiles and dentists in Guatemala are cosmetic rather than practical. The young sport dazzling grins, a blend of gold and shiny stone....

Later, the passing of time turns all that bling to toothless smiles in wrinkled old faces as the dental butchery takes it's toll. The people here all have beautiful smiles but Mayan Guatemala is a superstitious place and cameras are viewed with distrust. You have to respect local custom and ask before taking pictures of people. Often you will be refused and it is not good to be caught sneaking 'candid' shots.

We are riding to Quetzaltenango, more popularly known by it's Mayan name as Xela (Shela) to meet up with Anna and Ali, an Australian and Dutch couple we originally rode with in Mexico. Xela is just beyond this deep valley with it's 30m waterfall...

Xela is firmly on the gringo trail and is served by tons of backpacker dorms and spanish schools. It's a great hangout for collecting the gossip and planning the onwards route. It's also surrounded by 3 volcanos including central America's highest - the great Tajumulco (4220m) and is prime hiking country. It's a strange mix of Central American and gothic German architecture. There was a German settlement here after the Spanish and they have all left their mark in the crumbling splendour of Enriquez passage....

Braving a 5am start we set out to the mirador above Santiaguito, an active cone that erupts every hour or so. After a couple of hours we are high enough to see all the way across the coastal plain to the Pacific Ocean and finally get our first glimpse of the fuming summit....

Unfortunately it's also our last view as 2 minutes later, the clouds roll in and visibility drops to zero.

20 minutes later, there's a sound akin to a jumbo jet taking off as Santiaguito blows it's top and blasts away for a good couple of minutes. We see nothing and are reduced to watching a recording as Ali holds up the guide's mobile phone. I don't know - maybe some of the majesty is lost on it's 2 inch screen....

This is Manchas, the hyperactive softy who lives with a local family we rent an apartment off. He likes sleeping, jumping, cuddling and eating bicycle tyres....

There is a tranquilo vibe around the central park and all the women dress in local Mayan colour. This girl, however proves that children are the same the world over as she shinnies up a tree in best dress while mother looks the other way....

Guatemala!!

June 30 to July 1st

The border crossing is an incredible anticlimax for us.

After reading about all kinds of fines that could be imposed for overstaying our visas, I am looking forward to a good battle and some opportunities for bribing officials. It's really disappointing when we are sent to pay at a bank and it's boringly official - receipts and everything. The fine amounts to around $20 each -the same price as buying a new visa so we get off lightly.

There are 4 kilometers of no man's land between Mexico and Guatemala and all vehicles must empty their cargos of people before driving across it. Numerous tuk tuk taxis ply their trade carrying tourists from one frontier to the other where they rejoin their tour buses. The Mexicans and Guatemalans walk.

Unfortunately both countries seem to see this thin strip of land as the solution to their rubbish recycling problems and there are massive dumps full of junk sliding down the hillside. It tugs at the heart when you begin to make out the figures of children trawling the mounds for anything of value....

We reach the invisible line beyond which Guatemala begins and we can finally enter a new country - our first since leaving the USA 7 months ago.

Bienvenido a Guatemala....

There is some confusion with the official stamping my passport as to how much I need to pay for said stamp, but we both finally agree that it is free when I first refuse to pay, and then ask for a receipt.

The money changer outside, however, did get one over me when he passed a dud 50 Quetzale note ($7) when I converted the last of our Mexican pesos. I only realised when I tried to buy water 50kms later.

Surprisingly things seem to be slightly more expensive here compared to Mexico. Petrol and diesel are a third dearer! Maybe this is due to the Nationalised petrolium industry of Mexico keeping their prices down. Whatever the reason, there is a thriving and very obvious black market lining the main road for several kilometers. Almost every house, business and car has containers standing beside them ready to top up empty fuel tanks at a discount.

Engines are thirsty here as the landscape remains tough. We ride into a deep, vertical sided canyon and follow the river steeply upstream....

I don't know what was in those fuel containers, but it's a foul brew as the local buses race past us spewing dense black filth into the air. It's a noxious, cloying, oily cloud of pure evil that clings to the throat and lungs.

These colourful beasts are the backone of travel in Guatemala obtaining their name "chicken bus" due to the range of passengers and animals they carry on market days.

Some time ago there was an agreement made between Guatemalan and the British government. It stated that; in return for the landmass that is modern day Belize, the British government would build a road between Guatemala City and Belize City.

The British said "Thanks for the Land" and the Guatemalans wait til this day for the road that was never built. If you look at a Guatemalan map, Belize does not exist and they do not officially recognise the country. We come across this monument in a park - six volcanoes representing the massive forces that have shaped the lands of Central America. One for each of the 6 countries of Central America. Like the road, Belize is missing!

It's a beautiful ride to our first major Guatemalan city - Huehuetenango (Way-way-tenango). The land is dramatic and green and we have climbed away from the tropical heat of the border crossing back into the Western Highlands....

Bienvenidos a Guatemala!!

Mexico - A Fond Adios

June 28th/29th

With Sue recovered and fighting fit, we finally drag ourselves away from San Christobal de las Casas. After nearly a week off the bike, the first climb feels tougher than it should - it's only a small 200m bump to get us out of the Joval Valley on our final Mexican leg towards the Guatemala border.

After scaling the valley side, the land begins to fall away dramatically, a scything bend connecting us to that unbroken scar than runs a grey wound along the valley floor below. It leads us into the farming town of Teopisca.....

Along the way are a thousand self-subsistence homesteads. Buildings are poor quality; humble wooden shacks with tin rooves that turn their interiors to cauldrons under the hot sun.

In contrast the soil is incredibly rich; tall stands of swaying corn a testement to it's fertility. It's a deep and vivid shade of ochre and the land appears to bleed where the plough cuts deep furrows, the red a garish contrast to the green.

Deep folds in the land provide shelter and any available space on the valley floor is claimed and cultivated....

Higher up, where land is left to nature, a confusion of dense pine forest proliferates. Soft grasses hide an array of shape and colour - wild flowers called out by the rain....

The colour and variety is a feast for the eyes. This one reminds me strangely of Tommy Cooper....

We toil up a long climb, sweating under the combination of hot sun and steady effort, then immediately freeze down the otherside as blue skies miraculously turn grey, and then burst like water bombs turning the road into a 3 inch deep river. Jagged rents of lightning rip the sky and the constant rumble of angry thunder is interspersed with mightly booms that pummel the ear.

At last the water cycle begins to make a deeper kind of sense. Remember that dull science lesson of yesteryear! Now it is played out in the most graphic detail in fast forward before our eyes. Clouds burst, rivers run, and then the clouds pull back, their anger spent like a pair of exhausted combatants. Bright sunshine and blue skies are revealed and instantly the water climbs skywards once more in thick tendrils of vapour. You can see the clouds reloading before your eyes as the trees appear to smoke and the rivers morph into roads once more.

The downhill is terrifying! My brakes need at least 100m to even begin to bite as water logged rims refuse to clear. After they bite, the bike still refuses to scrub off speed. Surface water hides abrupt speed bumps that launch the bike into the air. Fully loaded touring bikes were not made to fly and landings are nasty. A sort of bendy wibbly wobbly affair, all squirmy and fear inducing. Sue fares slightly better with disc brakes but it's a slightly more rapid descent than planned.

After the storm....

We overnght in Comitan, another little visited colonial relic with lively central square. We have live mariachi music while we dine!

Very fine.

Next day we continue to plummet towards Guatemala, the road folding itself round the hillside as high altitude pine forests give way to semi tropical greenery....

It's just gorgeous countryside....

And finally....

At last...

Eventually, we are in sight of a new country.....

Mexico is very easy to lose yourself in and we have have stayed waaaaayyyyy longer than planned. Indeed, longer than is permitted by law as our 6 month visa ran out a month ago. We remember obtaining it all that time ago and thinking "Plenty of time - no problem".

Now it's a problem.

But we were seduced....

The people...

The food...

The music...

The landscape...

Wow - the LANDSCAPE!

It's just an incredibly diverse and variously beautiful place and we would still like to spend more time here.

We never even got to the Yucatan, land of incredible beaches and Mayan ruins, not to mention the islands and the snorkeling and diving.

It's a good job they closed Mexico City 'cos of the swine flu or we would have lost(?) more weeks there.

Tomorrow, we sort out that tricky little visa problem....

And then beyond the oficialdom of that there border....

Guatemala!!

Guatemalan Getaway

September 7th to 10th

Returning to Guatemala, the boats are met at the Livingston docks by local Garifuna 'guides'. You can practically see them lining up the passengers and assigning themselves to their targets like marksmen homing in on their prey. Normally we would just walk on by, but Cesar, a larger than life character with a gold plated smile to match is hard to resist. We know there will be money involved, but it's probably worth it for the entertainment as he rattles through his spiel and helps us through the immigration system. He then shows us to 'The Hotel Africa' which would have been a sight to see in days gone by - rooms are huge and outside there are hanging stairways and arched courtyards.....

It's all set in beautiful flower gardens, but is starting to look a bit threadbare round the edges now....

Cesar then proceeds to give me the tour of the town, explaining how the system works and about keeping the money amongst friends and away from the Gautemaltecos. He points out all the best restaurants - best commission for him or best food - I'm not sure, but we do try 'Tapado' a rich stew of coconut milk, plantain (similar to banana, but less sweet) coriander and snapper fish. It's one of the tastiest meals I've ever had and Cesar Joins invites himself in for a beer. Money eventually makes him go away and he melts back into the crowds around the docks looking for new friends.

Livingston is unusual in that it is like a little island of a town completely cut off from the rest of Guatemala by the jungle. There are no roads leading in or out and the only access is by boat. It's remote and just a little bit edgy so far from civilisation and you need to keep your wits about you; Cesar is not the only one looking for ready cash. It's also a staging post for the drug trafficking business as boats make deliveries up and down the coast and inland on the vast river network running inland.

It's also a staging post for river tours up the Rio Dulce along a narrow canyon. We ride down to the docks, find a boat captain, load the bikes aboard and set out in search of a road....

It's a nice ride up the canyon, but nothing like the scale of The Sumidero Gorge in Mexico. The air is filled with bird calls and massive herons flap their languorous way between perches. Jungle vines tumble the valley sides which are covered in Bromeliads - tropical flowering plants and there is a hot spring to stop at and swim.

Our boat captain has fish on his mind though.

There are a number of Mayan fishermen plying their trade in dug out canoes and we make frequent stops to examine the quantity and the quality of the day's catch. Some bring their entire family along - I guess child care is hard to find in the jungle....

After several purchases I get curious and apparently his wife runs a restaurant while he runs tourists up river past the endless lily fields....

Eventually the river gorge widens out as we reach El Golfete, the first and smallest of the river's 2 lakes. Pelicans compete with the Mayan fishermen for the day's feed whilst ancient fishing boats slowly fall into ruin....

Eventually we reach the town of Rio Dulce, just as the river widens again, this time on to the vast Lago de Izabal - Guatamala's largest lake at around 230 square miles. We dock under a huge road bridge - Central Americas longest apparently....

Rio Dulce just looks horrible as we ride out from the boat docks. The main road is choked with vendors of a thousand different kinds all noisily shouting to attract their customer's attention. The bridge pours a never ending stream of traffic into this congested chaos and horns blare as both engines and drivers overheat. It's just mayhem as we try to formulate a plan of action in this seething maelstrom.

A quick U-turn and we are looking for another boat; our fourth in three days - this time to a jungle hideaway we've heard about a couple of miles up river. We bump into Uli, a Belgian motorcyclists we met in Semuc Champey who is now traveling with his girlfriend Mareka. We decide to share a boat....

It really is a jungle hideaway - wooden huts reached on boardwalks above the swamp and this is the view from the hammock and it's just wonderful....

It's run by Jonatan, a Swiss expat, about as far away from a European mountain village as it's possible to get and there's a cozy restaurant and common area with candles in the evening. It's slightly odd being served Italian spagetti, by a Swiss waiter listening to English music in a Guatemalan swamp with a Belgian couple.....

There are boats you can borrow and we paddle back to the lake for swimming and sunning on the pontoon....

There's a big American community here now lured south by cheap property and good sailing. Much of the lake is surrounded by boat mooring in this sheltered spot far enough up river to be beyond hurricane damage. I can see why they might be interested in this small slice of the good life....