Kayaking, Funerals, and Volcanoes.
February 1st.
Another dawn broke on Lake Atitlan. This morning, a black cat woke me up, meowing at the bay window, wanting to come in and cuddle. Then there was a frantic wild chase, trying to shoo all the pesty flies out of our house (obviously the windows had been left open too long the day prior). The lake appeared so calm, so Brady and I raced down to the dock, excited to take advantage of the peaceful morning. Some Guatemalan men were already busy at work, replacing our fragile dock with sturdy planks of wood. We pushed off our kayak into the sparkling blue, and set off in the direction of Santa Cruz. It was such a lovely kayak trip, past La Iguana Perdida, and through reeds sticking out of the water. We glided over a spooky fallen tree, hiding below the lake's surface. There was a log emerging out of the water, which looked like the perfect tie off spot for our kayak. Both Brady and I were soon splashing about in the lake, when a boat passed by. It was one of the many boat taxis one sees go passed, regularly. Except this one was different, because there was a huge crowd of people inside, weighing it down, significantly. It sounded as if people were singing at first, and then I thought, oh maybe they are crying? 5 more boats passed us, full of "crying people". Then from around the corner we heard what sounded like a live band. A dingy appeared, carried a somber, band of trumpets and drums. A lady openly grieved over a casket. We were experiencing a very cultural Guatemalan funeral procession. All these people were headed towards Santa Cruz, where they then continued the procession up the mountain. That night, we still could hear the drumming in the distance.
That afternoon, we sat at a German Bakery, on main street, and watched as Monday traffic passed by. One of my absolute favorite activities to do here, I've discovered, is - people watch! It's so fascinating, to me, to see the versatility that these fellow travelers possess. Just in the last month that we've been here, I can list of so many different nationalities, that we've met. Australians, Irish, Austrians, Germans, Dutch, English, Vietnamese, Brazilians, Americans, French, Turkish and the list goes on. All of these people share the same love of adventure and traveling, and each one has a story to tell!
February 2nd.
After eating our PB&J sandwiches. And getting pictures, we began our decent, which proved to be hard as well. Every hiker we met would ask us, "How far to the top?" and we would try our best to encourage them that the view was worth the pain. Brady and I will sleep like babies tonight.
Another dawn broke on Lake Atitlan. This morning, a black cat woke me up, meowing at the bay window, wanting to come in and cuddle. Then there was a frantic wild chase, trying to shoo all the pesty flies out of our house (obviously the windows had been left open too long the day prior). The lake appeared so calm, so Brady and I raced down to the dock, excited to take advantage of the peaceful morning. Some Guatemalan men were already busy at work, replacing our fragile dock with sturdy planks of wood. We pushed off our kayak into the sparkling blue, and set off in the direction of Santa Cruz. It was such a lovely kayak trip, past La Iguana Perdida, and through reeds sticking out of the water. We glided over a spooky fallen tree, hiding below the lake's surface. There was a log emerging out of the water, which looked like the perfect tie off spot for our kayak. Both Brady and I were soon splashing about in the lake, when a boat passed by. It was one of the many boat taxis one sees go passed, regularly. Except this one was different, because there was a huge crowd of people inside, weighing it down, significantly. It sounded as if people were singing at first, and then I thought, oh maybe they are crying? 5 more boats passed us, full of "crying people". Then from around the corner we heard what sounded like a live band. A dingy appeared, carried a somber, band of trumpets and drums. A lady openly grieved over a casket. We were experiencing a very cultural Guatemalan funeral procession. All these people were headed towards Santa Cruz, where they then continued the procession up the mountain. That night, we still could hear the drumming in the distance.
That afternoon, we sat at a German Bakery, on main street, and watched as Monday traffic passed by. One of my absolute favorite activities to do here, I've discovered, is - people watch! It's so fascinating, to me, to see the versatility that these fellow travelers possess. Just in the last month that we've been here, I can list of so many different nationalities, that we've met. Australians, Irish, Austrians, Germans, Dutch, English, Vietnamese, Brazilians, Americans, French, Turkish and the list goes on. All of these people share the same love of adventure and traveling, and each one has a story to tell!February 2nd.
Brady has been begging me to climb one of the Volcanoes with him, since we arrived at the Lake. So this morning we awoke before the sunrise, and scarfed down a quick breakfast, washed it down with some coffee, and headed out the door, down to the dock, to flag down a boat taxi. The boats start running at around 6:30 here, so we knew to get an early start on the hike, we should be down there as early as we could to catch one. We were headed across the lake to San Pedro, to hike Volcano San Pedro. We didn't arrive until 8 AM, and quickly hired a tuk-tuk to drive us up to the base of the huge mountain. As we wound our way through the narrow cobble-stone streets, the taxi man yelled to a friend, who hopped on, and began conversing with us. This man would become our "hiking guide" for the first 20 minutes of the hike. I guess our taxi driver was concerned that we would get lost in the farms and coffee plantations, that filled the foothills of the mountain, so he grabbed "Nicolas" to come show us the way.
As we began to ascend the Volcano, Nicolas proved to be really friendly guide and we were soon being educated on all things coffee. And I may have gotten in a little fight with him on who has the better coffee - Guatemala or Papua New Guinea :) (PNG totally wins!) And true to his word, he left us at the last fork in the trail, and told us to follow the steps for the next 2 and 1/2 hours. About an hour into the hike, I had to resolve in my mind that I would not stop, no matter how long it took to reach the top. Hardest hike of my life, simply because there was no relief, you were constantly climbing up and up, the steep face of a mountain. But the singing birds and the cool, wafting, mountain air encouraged you to just keep climbing. My lungs got the best work out they have ever experienced, panting all the way to the top. Finally, and how sweet and fulfilling it felt, we stepped out of the jungle canopy and found ourselves standing above the clouds! We had just climbed 5000 ft! And what a view it was!
As we began to ascend the Volcano, Nicolas proved to be really friendly guide and we were soon being educated on all things coffee. And I may have gotten in a little fight with him on who has the better coffee - Guatemala or Papua New Guinea :) (PNG totally wins!) And true to his word, he left us at the last fork in the trail, and told us to follow the steps for the next 2 and 1/2 hours. About an hour into the hike, I had to resolve in my mind that I would not stop, no matter how long it took to reach the top. Hardest hike of my life, simply because there was no relief, you were constantly climbing up and up, the steep face of a mountain. But the singing birds and the cool, wafting, mountain air encouraged you to just keep climbing. My lungs got the best work out they have ever experienced, panting all the way to the top. Finally, and how sweet and fulfilling it felt, we stepped out of the jungle canopy and found ourselves standing above the clouds! We had just climbed 5000 ft! And what a view it was!
After eating our PB&J sandwiches. And getting pictures, we began our decent, which proved to be hard as well. Every hiker we met would ask us, "How far to the top?" and we would try our best to encourage them that the view was worth the pain. Brady and I will sleep like babies tonight.
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