Having said farewells to the family and entrusted Tom, the guy who claims to be from York but sounds more like he´s a confused Canadian with my prize possession; my board. It was time to begin exploring Guatemala armed with the two notebooks full of Spanish I´d learnt in the last 2 weeks.
Yes... I basically forgot everything on the 3 hour ride to San Pedro on Lake Atitlan.
Having arrived en mass in a van of Israelis, Germans, Brits and a Frenchman, we all tramped around until we eventually found a hostel, "Yo Mama", and after a string of terrible your mum´s so fat jokes we got ourselves fed and hit a local bar, called The Buddha.
It took a short time to suss out that this was possibly Guatemala´s (a nation none to keen on homosexuals) only gay bar. Unperturbed and very keen to have several beers, we persisted, fended off the several gay kiwis and tried to own the pool table.
Getting back to the hostel I bumped into Christina, a friend from Spanish School in Antigua. A short game of sibling like play fighting later and I got belted around the chops by a very drunk Christina who I´m ashamed to say packs a vicious punch for someone who pretends to be Canadian and is quite clearly American. Annoyed at the no-hitting-girls (even faux-Canadian girls) rule, I proceeded to have a headache for the next 3 days, not cool.
The next day with hangovers in tow, we hired out kayaks and made for the town across the lake called San Marcos, a hippie hangout that runs a whole host of yoga classes, reki courses and moon courses (the latter not being what I thought and not what I thought I´d already achieved a BSc in).
After a total of 3 hours kayaking we were all spent and after nearly get nobbled by a tourist boat on the return leg, we all took it relatively easy that evening in an Israeli bar/restaurant called Zoolas. It seems Israelis´are everywhere. They finish national service (supposedly) and then infect the world´s travelling destinations like bed bugs. I may be a tad harsh but they do seem to get absolutely everywhere.
The next day it was official, I was not hungover, I was ill. I think a combo of getting an evil smack to the head and paddling the return leg of the aforementioned kayaking session in a kayak that was short and thin and meant I was sitting in a puddle of water, equalled a nasty cold! I decided to relocate to the previously mentioned hippie retreat of San Marcos for a few days to relax, sleep, relax and sleep some more.
After a few days of mainly sleeping I´m keen to get on the move again and leave lake Atitlan, I´ve done very little since being here which has been quite pleasant, but I find the lake to make me feel even more lethargic. Maybe its because you can´t really swim in the lake (too polluted and in places it looks it) and that the areas towns are either good for massive booze-ups, doing yoga or not a lot else. Think I´m missing the sea, and decide to maintain full speed ahead for the rest of my time in Guatemala, so I can get back in the sea as soon as possible.
Yes... I basically forgot everything on the 3 hour ride to San Pedro on Lake Atitlan.
Having arrived en mass in a van of Israelis, Germans, Brits and a Frenchman, we all tramped around until we eventually found a hostel, "Yo Mama", and after a string of terrible your mum´s so fat jokes we got ourselves fed and hit a local bar, called The Buddha.
It took a short time to suss out that this was possibly Guatemala´s (a nation none to keen on homosexuals) only gay bar. Unperturbed and very keen to have several beers, we persisted, fended off the several gay kiwis and tried to own the pool table.
Getting back to the hostel I bumped into Christina, a friend from Spanish School in Antigua. A short game of sibling like play fighting later and I got belted around the chops by a very drunk Christina who I´m ashamed to say packs a vicious punch for someone who pretends to be Canadian and is quite clearly American. Annoyed at the no-hitting-girls (even faux-Canadian girls) rule, I proceeded to have a headache for the next 3 days, not cool.
The next day with hangovers in tow, we hired out kayaks and made for the town across the lake called San Marcos, a hippie hangout that runs a whole host of yoga classes, reki courses and moon courses (the latter not being what I thought and not what I thought I´d already achieved a BSc in).
After a total of 3 hours kayaking we were all spent and after nearly get nobbled by a tourist boat on the return leg, we all took it relatively easy that evening in an Israeli bar/restaurant called Zoolas. It seems Israelis´are everywhere. They finish national service (supposedly) and then infect the world´s travelling destinations like bed bugs. I may be a tad harsh but they do seem to get absolutely everywhere.
The next day it was official, I was not hungover, I was ill. I think a combo of getting an evil smack to the head and paddling the return leg of the aforementioned kayaking session in a kayak that was short and thin and meant I was sitting in a puddle of water, equalled a nasty cold! I decided to relocate to the previously mentioned hippie retreat of San Marcos for a few days to relax, sleep, relax and sleep some more.
After a few days of mainly sleeping I´m keen to get on the move again and leave lake Atitlan, I´ve done very little since being here which has been quite pleasant, but I find the lake to make me feel even more lethargic. Maybe its because you can´t really swim in the lake (too polluted and in places it looks it) and that the areas towns are either good for massive booze-ups, doing yoga or not a lot else. Think I´m missing the sea, and decide to maintain full speed ahead for the rest of my time in Guatemala, so I can get back in the sea as soon as possible.
Last stop on the lake is Panachel, the busiest town and the place to get the onward journeys from. A bustling place where I can finally get the picture postcard shots of the volcanoes and also a place that has a bookshop. I am quite surprised by bookshops in Guatemala. They´re all full of romance novels, fantasy novels or cheap immitation spy novels by Tom Clancy... very bizarre. Upon picking up Victor Hugo´s Les Miserables however, I find travelling is going to leave me, just possibly a bit more sophisticated... yeah right...
Having done said speed of travelling for a week and covered a lot of ground very quickly I´ve learnt it ain't a good idea as I´m recovering from being ill again... but hey, that´s travelling...
photos in the usual place:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/richsmith/sets/72157625300050884/
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