Roadside laundry

The night is dark, punctuated by the sounds of tuk-tuks tearing up and down the steep, cobbled street which runs from the dock up the side of the mountain into town. Ezra and I have already walked down to the water and checked out the barcas, put fingers into the cool water of this volcanic lake and had a long chat with the fellow renting kayaks on the shore. “Donde esta su esposa?” he asked, eyeing the child on the end of my arm. “My husband? He’s in the kitchen, cooking,” I grinned. He laughed, “Here the women cook.” I shrugged, “We take turns.”

Bananas for sale

Today takes our world record for longest drive and shortest distance covered. One hundred forty miles, which covered less than fifty miles as the crow flies, took us almost eight hours. No joke. We spent maybe an hour, if I’m generous, reprovisioning in Quetzeltanago, and then there was the inspection stop by the armed policeman, again, those two things aside, the 140 mile drive maybe only took six and a half hours. Needless to say, it was a long day in more ways than one. The countryside is spectacular. The people are stunningly beautiful. The jungle covered mountainsides stretch away into the clouds and it feels like the rest of the world has disappeared. “There are SO many banana plants,” I mused to myself mid-day. “Well YEAH, Mom,” sighs Ezra, “There are MONKEYS and bananas are a monkey’s favorite food!” “Oh, right, of course, Ez, sorry, what was I thinking?” I winked at Tony.

Chicken bus

The Guatemalan roads proved fabulous, surprisingly. Rn-1 that runs from the border down through Guatemala city is smooth, and surprisingly well maintained. The Mexicans could take a lesson from the Guatemalans in this respect, to be sure. We didn’t get lost. With two maps in hand and regular stops to ask, “Right or left?” we navigated perfectly, even finding the “back road” into San Pedro la Laguna, which took a precipitous right turn off of the number one. We decided to spend our time on Lago de Atitlan in San Pedro because it is smaller than Panajachel, which by all accounts has become overrun with tour buses and hotels crowding the waterfront. San Pedro is at the opposite end of the lake, with no obvious way in other than by boat, unless you’ve driven yourself, which few people do. For good reason, as it turns out.

Local ladies

We started the day at 1000 ft and change above sea level. We peaked at 10,000 ft even. Lago de Atitlan is at about 5000 ft. The last 3000 ft. drop was in the five linear miles between the highway and the lake. Have I mentioned that my husband is my hero? Switchbacks doesn’t even come close to covering it. He rode the brakes for miles, in first gear, weaving between tuk-tuks tearing up the hill and chicken buses barreling down the hill at break-neck speed. I rode the air brake with him the whole way, gaining a cramp in my calf for my effort. Finally, we had to stop. The brakes were smoking, an ominous “clunk” had developed in the right front tire every time a sharp left turn was made, and our nerves were completely frayed. An hour munching cookies on the roadside raised our blood sugar, but didn’t do much for the brakes. Surely we were “almost there.” Nope. The worst was yet to come.

Lago de Atitlan is spectacular, well worth the effort to get here. We were never so happy to park the van as we were this evening, in the secured lot of our fabulous little hotel. It’s nothing special. A hundred yards up from the dock it’s within walking distance of everything. It’s clean and there is a full kitchen. It’s best feature: forty bucks a night for all six of us… ten bucks more than it would have cost to camp in Panajachel. Totally worth it. We plan to be here four or five days. I’m quite sure nothing could induce my husband to drive out of town until we absolutely have to. The kids are quite excited because this means that we’ll be getting around by boat and chicken bus, which they are extremely keen to try. Ezra and Gabe want to hang on to the roof rack and the back bumper like they see the local boys do. As for me, I’ll just be happy to be off of “map duty” for a few days and be able to let my hair down and maybe take a weaving class from the locals.