Guatemala Part 2

I took a bus over to Chimaltenango where there was some cute jailbait ala Paris 2003. I had to go this way to Antigua and I am finding it difficult to read my bumpy writing. At the changeover I had to leap out of the back of the bus. There was also a sign that read 'Yo vendo una manzana'. Hmm they sell only one apple. That must be a very profitable business or it must be such a phenomenal apple only one a day can be sold. Maybe its the same apple brand that Adam and Eve ate. The ticket collector on the bus was like some sort of Guatemalan Indiana Jones. He was hanging out the side door, up on the roof and at one point hanging onto the back of the bus. All for seemingly no real purpose other than he enjoyed it. I arrived in Antigua (its half the size of Watford. Xela is the second city and it only has 120,000 people). Its also full of tourists. I booked into a hotel rather than a hostel stupidly as I thought I was meeting Paulina, but she had difficulty getting across. They offered it to me for 80 quetzals. I thought that was cheap for 3 nights, then found out it was for one and stormed out. They offered me 40 per night. I took it, but you know a place is a rip off when you can get 50% discount. In fact that entire city seems designed to fleece tourists. Its very pretty, very safe, but my god is it the biggest rip off of a tourist trap since Havana. In the end I went out drinking solo because of the plans falling through. There was a private party in one place and three girls in lycra had been recruited to get people through the door. It was not working like it should have. This is where I discovered how expensive beer is in Guatemala and how depressing solo drinking is. I don't know how Francois manages it all the time. Maybe in Yankeeland, but would be difficult at home.

In the morning I did my washing and walked around the town. Good looking place, but Xela was much better. I found out the quetzal used to be 15:1. That was depressing and no wonder the place was expensive. Learnt a bit more Spanish and concocted a mad plan with a girl Ana who lives in the south west of the country. We must hire a 4x4, some police, get some guns and head off into the countryside to design a tourist plan for the region. We must also exchange dancing lessons. Some bad country dancing for some good Guatemalan stuff and have a drinking session away from the tourist towns. Sounded like it could be interesting. I would trade assistance for a travel buddy. Will see how it goes. The local police are also called PMT which amused me. In the evening there was a big party/music event in the main square. They had a sub par Metallica band, some traditional dancing and the damn National Orchestra were stalking me again. They seemed to find me everywhere and torment me with their christmas songs. There was even a band doing guantanamera in the streets. Fireworks would go off like daisy cutter, contravening any European safety law and big explosions would set off a domino effect on the car alarms. While watching one of the traditional dances some old man wandered up. I could not tell if he was a tramp or a relation of one of the dancers as he kept yelling stuff like 'get in there with that guy' and 'hey yeah marijuana' in spanish. I was leaning towards embarassing granddad until the marijuana comment. Now I reckon randy old tramp.

In the morning I was woken up by drumming. A parade was happening in the street. It was 4 parts advertising to each part band. Power was down all over the city so I could not grab a shower and the internet kept cutting out on me, which was really trying my patience. I was probably as pissed off as I had been on my trìp and booked myself on a volcano tour. I felt like I was going to explode myself. On the tour was a big Dutch group on an organised tour. This would be the first tour I went on in 4 months of travelling so it would be an interesting experience as I had always shunned them. I was given warnings about Guatemala City (how they were told to not even leave the bus) and Haiti. The Guetamala City ones proved to be bullshit so will see on Haiti. There was a Swedish old guy on the tour who was cool, a Yankee named Samuel who I had a good chat with, some fitness from wherever who had to take horses, a big burly hiking man and the Dutch. The group would prove to be too big and unwieldy, with far too wide a range in fitness. There were constant seperations and we had to wait for long periods (especially once the horses could go no further). I was not sure how my vertigo would cope and we were to descend in the dark and I had no flashlight. The first part was relatively simple and not to strenuous, but once we got to the base of the cone it was a hard scramble. We were climbing through dust and over rocks and scrambling with hands and feet up rocky outcrops that slid out from underneath you as fats as you climbed. I was at the back of the front pack and subsequently felt like I was doing the rock scramnling version of the travelator in Gladiators. As we climbed we could see the lava stream inthe distance and every few minutes a fiery boulder would be lobbed down the side of the mountain. The drop was not sheer, but the rocks were jagged and a slip could be fatal. Halfway up I lost my bottle. Not in an Arthurs Seat way for those who were there. I literally lost my bottle. It must have fallen out of my pocket. Someone else would later throw it in the lava and watch it explode. Once we eventually reached as high as you could go the heat was intense. The guide set a walking stick on fire by poking it into the lava and it was pretty watching the intense orange lava flow over the rocks. Then we got a beautiful sunset and had to descent down the rockslide in the dusk. A few people were sliding all over the place, more sliding than walking, with mini landslides and our shoes full of dust and rocks. One dutch girl just caught herself from tumbling backwards over the side. It was a mildly hairy descent. When we got back to the bus and headed back the burly guy put on a tape of music including 'George Michael', 'Chris De Burgh' and 'Celine Dion'. This could not have been his choice. Really it should not have been anyones. I began to think he must have a real dodgy taste when the song from Ghost finally persuaded him to switch over to reggaeton. Thank god for that. My thoughts on tours are that you get some company (albeit mainly generic) and your logistics are sorted for you. On the downside they cost more and you have to suffer 40 gurning fools taking the same fucking photo at the destination. Damn them. I am even more glad I don't have a camera. Overall I think its not worth it as I am shit hot at logistics and have no problems making friends. I will recruit them at hostels and do the logistics myself where possible. Like Hieve del Agua and Fuentes Goerginas. In the morning it was off to Guatemala City