I had my first legitimate conversation in Spanish today. After a breakfast of plantain, scrambled eggs and beans at a coffee house with a colonial style courtyard, Henry and I sat outside the front of our AirBnB smoking a ciggie. An older woman walked past with her dog who we gave a stroke. She told me that her dog was 14 years old, and was blind and deaf. She had lived for 20 years in Antigua, but had been brought up in Guatemala city. I told her we were from England, that we were spending a week in Antigua before going onto Lake Atitlan and then Panama. All of this in Spanish. It was exhilarating, and gave me the impetus to kick on with my Spanish learning, having barely practiced in Belize or on the Volcano.
Speaking of the volcano, I was still adjusting to life without the vape. Having struggled significantly with my breathing at altitude, barely making it back to camp after summating mount fuego, I launched the vape off the side of the mountain. I felt slightly bad littering in such a beautiful place, but it felt only right that it was sacrificed on the mountain it had made it so hard to climb.
We took it easy for our last evening in Antigua, eating steaks and burgers in an open courtyard, while a live band entertained. Early the next day, and following a mad dash to an ATM, we were aboard a minibus heading towards Lake Atitlan. The trip gave us our first real view of the geography of the country, and it is beautiful. Horses and cows roamed free by the roadside, with lush tropical vegetation as far as the eyes could see, backed by mountains and volcanos in all directions. The altitude and the way the clouds hid the mountain peaks from sight created a compressed aspect ratio to the view, as if seeing the entire country through a cinematic lens. This impression that I was witnessing some kind of movie was only amplified when we reached the lake. I was blown away when visiting Lake Como earlier this year, and this was even more stunning. The clouds rolled over forested mountain peaks around every part of the lake, with the sun breaking through to illuminate the water in a myriad of different blue and turquoise hues. But, while Como was surrounded by tranquil Italian towns, full of immaculate renaissance architecture, the chaos of the surrounding towns at Atitlan couldn’t have been a more stark contrast. Tuc tucs whizzzed around potholed roads, surrounded by half finished buildings that looked as if they could collapse at any moment. It reminded me more of India than Italy.
Our hotel also appeared as if only half built, but as we settled in there, I began to appreciate the rustic feel. We had a secluded lake view, a roof terrace adorned with hammocks and a rocky path through a farm down to the lake. There was a roughness to the set up here, very different to Antiguas cobbled streets and instagramable appeal, and we felt as though we had discovered a secret garden of Eden, still unknown to the wider world.
