In which Roz and Layla enjoy a new lake, plan a new holiday, and list their holiday reading

by Roz

We went from sipping mohitos (where we left you last time) to dinner at a lovely Italian restaurant overlooking the lake where we had a truly lovely meal with fabulous bruschetta (with capers which I love but realize I haven't had since leaving the UK a year ago), homemade pasta and nice wine.  We strolled the two minute journey back to our hotel congratulating ourselves on an excellent day.  

Next morning we were awake early again (sigh) and having again rejected the hotel breakfast in favour of pancakes in a pretty spot we contemplated our plans for the day.  Layla had originally been thinking of a canopy walk but I had been such a wuss over the brief encounter we'd had with swaying bridges in Pana that it was time for a rethink.  The lake looked tempting and so we decided that a boat trip was in order (after morning ice creams naturally). First, we had a half hour boat ride to a tiny village called San Andres which was just lovely. Hopping off the boat, our inadequate Spanish and the boatman's inadequate English meant we "agreed" we would see him later, in another village a little bit along the lake shore "next to the water park". We started off by a small exploration of the village, but since this only revealed mangy looking dogs and the odd small child we didn't linger too long, but started off to walk to the next village along the lakeshore. And it turned out to be one of the prettiest walks either of us had ever done.  No cars on the road, brilliant blue sky and water, and just a sort of idyllic-ness that was completely unexpected. The tranquility of it made it all the more surprising when we stumbled across small children swimming in the water - or indeed tuk tuks sitting on the lake edge to make it easier to wash them. We meandered along, contemplating the future and all the fun places we could live. 

Arriving in the village (which was somewhat larger than the first one we'd been to, and with fewer hungry looking dogs), it was time for lunch and we stopped off at a very pleasant cafe for sandwiches and lemonade - and then settled down to read, occasionally glancing down at the lovely lake.  And so a very pleasant hour or so passed, after which we decided to start trying to hunt down the water park and our boatman. This proved much easier than I had feared, and soon we were gliding through the beautiful water en route to our next stop, which apparently had ruins and a pretty look-out spot. Further examination of the guidebook, once we had arrived, revealed that the ruins were in fact not visible to the naked eye (but instead presumed to be there because of the otherwise inexplicable big mound than we proceeded to walk up).  The look out spot was lovely though (and well worth the climb up the really rather high mound) and we stayed up there until we heard the voices of some other tourists when we hastily beat a retreat.  

It was only a short boat ride from there back to Flores - but all in all it had been a very satisfactory excursion.  We then headed to the cool cafe / bar, where we had spent time the day before, to read more. The experience was all the more novel since it was certainly the first time Layla opted for beer whilst I opted for lemonade... Time marched on and we were conscious that we had a mid-evening flight back to Guatemala City and no opportunity for dinner other than a very early one. And so we found ourselves back in the Italian restaurant of the night before, this time watching the sunset as we relished bruschetta and one portion of pasta to share.  From there, we headed to the airport and flew back to Guatemala for our final night.  We arrived late and decided to head out for a late drink. We originally hoped to find Frida's - which we had looked for the last time we were in Guatemala City - but failed again and so ended up in a mad Mexican restaurant near the hotel with mohitos.

We woke up unpleasantly early again and headed out for breakfast in a delightful cafe / restaurant recommended by all the guidebooks but pleasingly not seemingly frequented by tourists (or not western ones) where we debated the merits of Christmas and our enthusiasm (or not in my case) for it over pancakes and fruit.  We then wandered to a lovely bookshop and contemplated their selection of books before settling down for a mint tea in the bookshop's cafe where we wrote postcards and read.  Eventually Layla was too antsy to sit still and we agreed, sadly, it was time to head back to the hotel and to the airport. And now it is from a very comfy business class seat that I write this, sipping a gin and tonic and awaiting lunch - suspended until our next adventure away.  Which, might, I suspect, be a cycling trip to Burma. 

Books read by Roz whilst away: Astray (Emma Donoghue), Like Water for Chocolate (Laura Esquirel), Bring Up the Bodies (Hilary Mantel), No Highway (Nevil Shute), Dominion (CJ Sansom), The Shuttle (Frances Hodgson Burnett), The Penelopiad (Margaret Atwood), plus substantial progress made into The Day of the Scorpion (Paul Scott) and some progress into Merivel (Rose Tremain) - the latter being an audiobook.

Books read by Layla whilst away: The Secret People (John Wyndham), The Vanishing Act (Mette Jakobsen), The Penelopiad (Margaret Atwood), French Revolutions (Tim Moore) and the final quarter of Middlemarch (George Eliot), and have just embarked on Shikasta (Doris Lessing). 

In which Layla and Roz cycle round a pretty lake and visit Maya ruins

By Layla

We meandered out and up the Main Street for dinner in Circus, a very cool little quirky cabaret bar where we dined on pizza and wine, and listened to various musical efforts, followed by some G&Ts at the bar. Roz mocked me for being shy of the place - have I become too mainstream??!

The next day we were up early and - to our delight - enjoying a delicious hotel pancake breakfast, before our cycle tour around the lake. Now, those of you with an eagle eye will have noticed that on our bicycle tour of the Antigua countryside resulted in Roz falling off her bike and injuring her arm. We decided to gloss over that... And off we set with our bikes and a cheery guide on the local ferry across the sparkling lake, along with some Mayan girls, a house painter, and assorted other locals. After stopping at several tiny, pretty landings, til we reached ours. We vaguely helped heave our bikes onto the tiny wooden jetty, then found ourselves on the road that goes all around the lake. Sadly, my enquiries in Spanish as to the flatness of the road before we booked the trip must have been flawed - never did any road go up and down so dramatically or so often. If it hadn't been for the astoundingly beautiful views over the lake, and the charm of the villages we cycled through, it would have been hard to forgive. Especially because Roz's arm proved unwilling to endure either steep slopes upwards or downwards. And of course, I'm not fit enough to go uphill for more than 5 seconds. I suspect we were a great disappointment to our guide. At San Paolo we visited a women's weaving cooperative and I bought a scarf, and some horrible chocolate. Then at San Pedro we wheeled our bicycles over another little wooden jetty and climbed aboard another ferry for a beautiful half hour cruise back to Panajachel.

After changing our clothes to make ourselves presentable, we made a beeline for a pretty-looking deli in a courtyard garden for a tasty lunch, over which we lingered with our books... And then we went for a stroll along the waterfront, culminating in mohitos at the aptly named Sunset Bar, where we enjoyed a glorious pink sunset over the lake and volcanos. 

But enough of that and down to the serious business of dinner. We walked up the street and after much indecision, chose Casablanca, where I incongruously had French onion soup and Roz had pasta. And then ice cream. Punctuated by my jaunt to a local pharmacy, as Roz mentioned she was in agony post-bike ride. And then G&Ts at Circus. Other than the aforementioned agony, a really excellent day.

We got up early the next day, because we had a shuttle to Guatemala City Airport booked for 11.30 and wanted a morning activity. One look at Roz's grimaces told me that kayaking was out, so after another delicious round of breakfast pancakes, we caught a tuk tuk to Atitlan Nature Reserve. This pretty much deserted park was really beautiful. We went on an hour-long hike along well-maintained tracks with the added excitement of several suspension bridges which were nearly the end of poor Roz, as she shook, suspended on rickety wooden slats above a waterfall far below, unable to use her arm to hold on. But the views were excellent... 

When we got back into town, I deposited Roz in the Deli Llama del Fuego where we acquired licuados (sort of fruit smoothies) and take away sandwiches, and I went on a hunt and acquired a sling for her. Feeling a tad worried, I emailed doctor friends to enquire as to whether I ought to be doing anything more serious. Luckily the diagnosis: dunno, but prescribe painkillers and mohitos. Not cycling or kayaking though.

And thus with sandwiches in hand and arm in sling, we boarded the shuttle minibus to Guatemala Airport, destination Flores. However, a journey that usually takes 4 hours took only 2 hours. We ended up being dropped off in Guatemala City where we left our luggage at a random hotel, and went for a little wander in Zone 10. Our quest for a bar marked in our guidebook was in vain, and after wandering the streets which mostly comprised large hotels and bars that would be popular later, we found ourselves in an incongruous, posh little design shop (there were no other shops around), as their only customers, drinking giant jugs of pink lemonade and eating banana cake with chocolate sauce, sitting on their posh for sale chairs. Quite surreal, but both cheery and tasty.

I made Roz go to the airport too early (as usual) so we spent the next while in the charm-free departure lounge (a particular treat was when it got dark and the airport didn't switch on lights...), but our flight was on time and after an hour of flying, we found ourselves on the pretty island of Flores. 

By the time we checked into our less than glamorous hotel (I'd like you to note it was number 1 on Tripadvisor!) it was sufficiently late that restaurants were winding down. Nevertheless, having purchased shuttle ticked for the next day's trip to Tikal, a Mayan ruin, we settled ourselves in a nice restaurant, drank mohitos, and had a quick dinner, then some wine, til it was bedtime.

Noting sadly that every day is an early morning day, Roz and I sloped downstairs for a quick hotel breakfast before our 8am shuttle today, only to find that the hotel breakfast was so rubbish that we had to go elsewhere. Cue a mad dash to last night's restaurant where we inhaled emergency pancakes and orange juice, in time for the bus. I'd got myself in a flap about the bus as I'd heard it was subject to an armed robbery a couple of months ago, so had left all valuables at home, which was rather inconvenient, and thankfully the trip was absolutely fine. 

Tikal is thought to have been the capital city of the Mayan empire, and is the most impressive Mayan ruin, we were told. I'd been once before, 9 years ago. It was lovely to go back. The site is deep in the jungle, but in a civilized way that requires lots of walking up nicely cleared paths through the jungle to the various pyramids and temples scattered around a large site. We visited pretty much all of them, including the more obscure ones, and climbed a couple for cool views over the jungle. But of course, true to form, while we enjoyed the Gran Plaza and such, we really liked it when we were the only ones there so we could feel like Indiana Jones... And thus we enjoyed one out of the way temple complex, a 20 minute walk from the others, til another pesky couple appeared, which spurred us to leave our explorations and continue along the road.

About 15 minutes into the 25 minute walk between temples, we suddenly froze. Just ahead, we heard the most bloodcurdling roars and snarls you can imagine. We clung to each other in terror - what on earth could it be? We looked at our map/guide to the site for lists of animals that resided within. Could it be a jaguar? It sounded more like a lion... We decided to move forward, then heard it again, louder than ever. And again. And thus Indiana Jones became Indiana Wuss as we lurked, willing the other couple to come round the corner. Eventually they did. With anguish we indicated to the ongoing roars. At which point they tittered: "howler monkeys". And sheepishly we walked on, to the next temples...

We had a lovely four hours of exploring this really excellent site, before having sandwiches at the visitors' centre, and catching the shuttle back to Flores. Again, no bandits: phew!

Having watched the sun set over the lake with an ice cream in hand, and wandering round the promenade that circles Flores, we are now installed in what can only be described as a funky cafe, with mohitos. Medicinal, you know...

In which Roz and Layla enjoy the countryside by bike, foot, and boat, and Roz sustains a bike injury

By Roz

We headed out for dinner, promising ourselves to resist the lure of the delicious and jolly Mexican place we had been for lunch (Frida's) and agreeing that it was about time we sampled a little rice and beans - in other words, some Guatemalan food.  And so we ended up - with some hesitation - in a small local restaurant. To our amusement / bemusement, rice and beans were strangely absent form the menu, and so we resigned(!) ourselves to starting off with guacamole... Layla showed her continued commitment to local cuisine through ordering a rather dubious sounding vegetarian option which turned out to be potatoes and something brown, with plancha and rice on the side, whilst I went for "typical" Guatemalan cheese fondu. It didn't take us long to demolish these, and we then wandered over to a nice wine bar called El Sabor del Tiempo, photos of which were immediately - and oddly - recognized by friends on Facebook. We then called it a night in anticipation of our bike ride into the valley the next day.  

Awake slightly too early for a holiday, we consoled ourselves by nice waffles up on the roof terrace where we had jacuzzied the night before, looking at the volcanos and hoping that our bike ride wouldn't entail riding up anything so steep. We headed round to the office where to start the bike tour to find only to find that we were to be joined by a third person on the tour, a girl called Alice.  Pleasingly she turned out to be very nice (and even carried a fair amount of our stuff for us, given that our handbags were vigorously discouraged by the bike tour people). We set off through cobblestoned streets which were very pretty if not optimal for cycling. We cycled through villages - including passing a street that had been modeled to look like Jesus' site of cruxifiction (having disappointed the tour guide by telling him that none of us were Catholic). All was going well, despite a steep hill which caused Layla to breathe more deeply than she might have hoped, until disaster struck. Well near disaster. Turning my head to listen to the end of the tour guide's sentence "what you need to know about this trip is...", I fell off my bike. I slammed against a nearby wall and got generally tangled up with my bike.  A few moments of confusion later and it became apparently that I had done something to the muscles in my shoulder / arm and other than that just had a few cuts and grazes. I hate missing out on something fun, so suggested to Layla et al that I take some painkillers and we just press on and see how it went.  It turned out that all was well unless I needed to break or to go uphill (I never realized that I use my arms for going uphill before). This made for a reasonably exciting journey for me.  But the scenery - with the volcanos in the background - was lovely and there is just something fascinating about travelling through the countryside on a bike, getting a small snapshot of local lives. In one village we passed through there was a giant bath in the centre of the village square, where people from miles around came to do their washing.  Well, I say "people" - unsurprisingly I mean women (there was one lone man) and it was somewhat depressing to realize how few people here have running water. 

We stopped at a macadamia nut farm and had quite an interesting time learning about macadamia nuts and how they are farmed. Tasting some nuts - it would have been rude not to - it was striking how different they are from that which we get in either the UK or the US. Much more flavorsome. The experience was somewhat marred by the slightly creepy owner of the farm who insisted on rubbing macadamia nut oil into our hands / arms. But when he put his arm on my injured shoulder and I let out a howl of pain Layla shouted at him in a pleasing - if slightly excessive - fashion. They then had a fun exchange when he said he knew how to fix my arm (by rubbing macadamia oil on it) since he's a paramedic - and Layla responded that he might well be but she was a doctor... (She didn't mention that she's a psychiatrist...) But as I sit here writing this blog now, eating nuts we bought there and drinking a beer, I still can't believe how good the nuts taste.  

As we were about to leave the farm, the tour guide tried to persuade me to get a car home given my arm and they did make me quite anxious with their descriptions of the very bumpy terrain we were about to encounter. I was about to give in - which I loathe doing - when our companion for the day chipped in so encouragingly, telling me she would be happy to walk if my arm got too sore, that my resolve strengthened and off we set. And what a fabulous part of the trip it was. We went through pretty woods and through walking tracks through fields, passing kids playing football and farmers working and villages far from the nearest road.  It felt exceptionally far from home... Stopping off in a village before a final and very significant hill (which I would mention that - despite walking my bike - I was the first to reach the top of) we stopped off in a textile museum and market which was quite fun though as ever Layla and I felt guilty about not buying anything (I dislike acquiring useless things we will never use, but recognize this isn't the right attitude in this scenario) and made it home after our 28 km cycle in time for a late lunch.  

The three of us headed to the nice cafe where we had had key lime pie the day before, and I had beer and clutched ice to my arm (not least in honour of a friend who thinks ice is the solution to all injuries). We had a very pleasant time and then headed back to the hotel for a shower. Post shower, we headed to a cafe to read our books and hope my arm would magically and swiftly heal.  It didn't but both of us managed to terrify ourselves with what we we reading and so headed back to our hotel for another jacuzzi slightly early and in some terror. Post-jacuzzi we headed out to dinner at the Rainbow Cafe (not gay, but instead hippy) which was very pleasant and then met our cycling companion from earlier for a mohito or two in Frida's. A very pleasant evening ensued and then we headed home, all planning to get the 8am shuttle to a place called Panajachel.

Up early again, we had an early breakfast (alas no waffles this time) and then hopped on the shuttle. It was a good journey, through fab scenery. Best of all was our first sighting of Lake Atilan, which Panajachel is on the shore of. The lake was a brilliant blue - looking the colour of the Mediterranean at its best - and the ever present volcanos were as always spectacular. We said goodbye to Alice (who was only visiting for the day) and checked into our hotel and contemplated our plan of action. As ever when in time of doubt, we opted for a very pleasant lunch (no guacamole this time) and then headed off on a hike / walk to another village on the lake shore, a few miles away.

The walk turned out to be lovely - the lake in clear view pretty much all the time, and with pretty hills and so forth. The undulating road started off being crowded with cars, but a couple of kilometers along, there was barely any traffic; just trees, flowers, and sparkling water. We stopped at the first village, Santa Catarina Palopo, for a lemonade and a read of our books at a cafe overlooking the lake, then pressed on to San Antonio. By the time we got there, we were dreaming of taking a boat ride back to Panajachel... But sadly the last ferry had long gone. Faced with the option of a pick up truck, we managed to negotiate chartering a private ferry, and so it was that we cruised back to town, across sparkling blue water, with volcanos on one side, and pretty towns and evidence of our 10km effort on the other. We felt very extravagant (though it was in fact not very expensive), and climbed out, feeling like celebrities. We booked a bike ride for tomorrow and are now sitting on our hotel balcony planning our dinner. And feeling quite full of macadamia nuts...

In which Layla and Roz cook marshmallows on a volcano in Guatemala

By Layla

Having been to Guatemala once before, in 2003, I worried about the intrepid quotient of us going there on holiday yesterday. My fears were allayed by the check in woman at National Airport in Washington who, upon enquiring as to our final destination, queried "Guatemala? Is that in Mexico?" Though to be fair she also claimed not to have heard of Britain, so it wasn't entirely reassuring that Delta would get us to Guatemala City at all... but get there we did, inexplicably in business class no less, and as we sipped mid-flight mimosas, we felt we were starting the holiday in grand style.

An hour and a half of taxi fighting through dreadful traffic, and we stepped out into the sunny, colorful, cobbled streets of Antigua, a beautiful little colonial town. Since we were too early to check in, the first order of the day was clearly a search for late lunch (glossing over my early lunch courtesy of business class!). We strolled a few paces to the very attractive main plaza, with greenery, fountains, and churches galore, then walked up a restaurant-lined street with our mouths watering. We settled on a cute little place where we acquired mohitos and guacamole, and were very cheery indeed - til some Googling got us anxious about difficulties of getting cash in Antigua, dodgy cash machines, etc. And so, feeling like a very good wife indeed, I left Roz with her mohito while I embarked on a quest for cash. Four cash machines later, and several conversations with bank type men holding guns, I procured 2000 quetzales, which I felt was a vast sum of money. The exchange rate is killing me - I just can't do rapid sums that require dividing by 7.8! Luckily I have now told Roz she's in charge of money...

After our guacamole, and checking into our cute little boutique hotel, we embarked upon a further food and drink mission. We had mohitos on a rooftop bar, then some tasty wine and bruschetta in a second, charming establishment, then local beer (Gallo) and tacos in a third establishment. And after all that we rolled home to bed, anticipating our 6am start the next day...

Today, up bright and early, we seized packed breakfasts from our hotel and climbed aboard a minibus with 10 others, bound for the Pacaya Volcano. It's an active volcano, so we couldn't go up to the crater, which we saw steaming, but we could and did have a fab hike up through countryside, then across fields of black lava grit (familiar from our Nicaragua volcano surfing experience), and finally to a hot hole in the ground where we roasted marshmallows with volcanic heat, and munched them while gazing at the really glorious scenery, of lakes, craters, steaming volcanos, and a range of peaks like the way I drew mountains in childhood art classes, all under a brilliant blue sky.

We bused back to town, then set out for lunch. We had a pleasant panini in Cafe Barists, overlooking the square, then we went to a travel agency to book a bike ride for tomorrow. And then it was time for our customary Lonely Planet walking tour. We wandered down pretty cobbled churches and admired copious churches and monasteries. Antigua really is a beautiful town. We came across a little bookshop and Roz bought Like Water For Chocolate. And then proceeded to read the whole thing, first over mint tea and key lime pie in a beautiful sunny courtyard cafe, then beer and chips at a second pretty courtyard cafe. So far, this holiday has not been slimming...

We returned to our hotel at 5 as we'd booked an hour in their rooftop jacuzzi. This turned out to be lovely - they'd left robes on our bed, and sprinkled flowers in the water. We enjoyed the jacuzzi while gazing out at the nearby volcano - a fabulous view. And now we are getting ready for dinner. A relief, as we are definitely in need of more food urgently.