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Antigua, Guatemala, November 7,
2002
Sometimes you need to go where the road takes you.
Entering Guatemala is not easy. By this I mean the bus
routes. I wanted to go from Tapachula to Quetzaltenango
but... Tapachula station was confusing. Everybody I
asked had a different answer. First yes, then no, then
pay the driver, then buy a ticket to Guatemala City
and get let off where you want, then finally ... No.
So off to Guatemala City and bus it back to Antigua.
Change of plans but hey that is all right, I was going
there eventually.
The trip is great, four and a half hours through rolling
hills, mountains and valleys of subtropical sugarcane,
palms, bananas and a really big pot plant ... I am sure
of it. O.K. maybe it was a False Aralia. The banks along
the road are covered in vines and creeping diefenbackia.
We pass through small shanty towns where bent old men
tend the fields. Mothers with their babes work quietly
in the shade preparing tortillas. Some wash their clothes
in a nearby stream.
Ken (a fellow backpacker from Sweden) and I arrive
at the G. C. bus station and hire a taxi to take us
to another station for a bus to Antigua. Why? Instead
of that we bargain with the driver to take the two of
us to Antigua, about an hour away for ten dollars Canadian
(6 American) each.
On the way out of G.C., we pass alit of chicken buses
going up the serpentine four lane highway. Decked out
in chrome and virgin saints, contrasting florescent
purples, yellows and greens, boxes and bags strapped
to the top, they belch black smoke as they growl and
sputter up the steep incline. All of them converted
school buses from Mexico. I will take a chicken
bus, probably many, another day. I love it here.
We get to Antigua and check in at Posada Ruiz, another
budget backpacker's, bare bone, palace with private,
tiny rooms circling the courtyard. The courtyard is
also where the daily laundry hangs to dry. Nice, a hand-washed,
fresh smelling maze to wander through on my way to the
communal showers.
I meet up with my new friends from Sweden, South Africa
and the U.S.A. and head out for supper. The place we
settle on is a bit upscale for my likes but it is my
first night in Guatemala so as the saying goes "Carpe
Uva" translated:"Seize the Grape". Wow
the flavors still amaze me. I am definitely euphoric
for being in this new country. All my senses are heightened
and it is hard to keep from smiling. Maybe that was
not a False Aralia after all.
The next morning I walk for hours checking out the
sights. Many of the cathedrals have been damaged by
the numerous earthquakes over the centuries. The Convento
de Las Dapuchinas is being restored but the process
is very slow. It was established in 1726 by an order
of nuns from Spain. The San Fransico Monastery overlooking
Volcan Agua is Antigua's oldest building, established
in 1579. Some of the buildings are still in use today.
The Llamada
de Las Sirenas is one of the America's oldest fountains
at 250 years.
There is very strong European influence here; beautiful
lush courtyards, colonial furniture, horse drawn buggies,
thick, dark oak and granite columns, ornate pedestals
and door knockers all combine to create a pleasant and
friendly atmosphere in this small town of 30 thousand
people. PS: The "dancing
skeletons" is a painting by Jose G. Posada
of Mexico, Gran Fandango, 1894.
Ken is staying here for a Spanish course, Erin is going
to Lago Atilan for the countryside and Priscilla and
Rick are off to the coast for the Garifuna music festival
on the nineteenth. I will stay for a few more days and
then I also go to Lago Atilan, a pristine mountain lake
ringed by volcanos.
Previous entry: San
Cristobal de Las Casas, Mexico
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