I’d asked many people where I should go/stay around lake Atitlan, and decided on the very small village of Santa Cruz to start with. One of the smallest villages on the lake, and on advice stayed at Iguana hostel/hotel. Bit of a result as I had an eight bed dorm to myself for £4! Following the slightly boozy previous night in Antigua I took a afternoon siesta before joining all the other guests for the communal dinner. Whilst I was in basic dorm, the also had quite luxury accommodation which makes for a really interesting mix of guests of all ages and back grounds.

A group of us decided on a hike to a neighbouring village the next day and we set off at nine. I’ve done so much less hiking or anything since being in Central America and as half our party were Swiss mountain goats they pushed the pace I struggled, a bit beetroot and very dusty having completely fallen flat on my face we arrived after 2 hours instead of 3! The walk was a bit challenging anyway as some very steep up and downs, but the scenery across the lake was second to none despite a haze which didn’t quite give me the volcano photo I wanted. Myself and an English girl who we found out had an alarming amount in common took a boat back most of the way and stopped off at a smaller village where we had a very decadent afternoon by an infinity pool supping cocktails over looking the lake…and all for £13!

The next day I went for an early swim in the lake and it was so calm, not a ripple. We then took a kayak out for a few hours, and paddled back round to the same hotel for a quick coke. We hadn’t really figured out the mooring or how to get out, but I found some rope and remembered some basics my father taught me and made it onto the dock of the hotel without capsizing. Only to realise that the dock wasn’t really connected and we had to climb round some awkward pillars to get there….not the most graceful of entrants to the joint, but funny enough. We’d timed the kayak well, and our short journey back was all ready much choppier as the wind got up.

I begrudgingly left Santa Cruz for the larger town of San pedro. The reason I wanted to spend a night here was to do a very early morning volcano hike, which would mean getting up at 2am to climb to the top for the sunrise over the lake. But there was no tour the following morning….they offered me a shorter climb to “Indian Nose” which meant only getting up at 3.30am…were I waited by the agency shop for forty minutes…before going back to bed pretty fed up as no one showed up. I decided to cut my losses and get out of there as early as possible and head to Rio Dulce on the northern coast. Refund for tour received I caught my first chicken bus. The bus itself was ok, and yes was completely rammed, but the journey twisting up from the lake to the top of the surrounding hills certainly tested my stomach! One slightly amusing habit I noticed, even though at the start of the journey there was relative more space around the back of the bus, all the women and girls that got on would sit right at the front of the bus even though that meant three to a seat and pretty much blocking the aisle for anyone else that came on…but I’m sure there was some logic in there!

I arrived at lunchtime in Guatemala city, and booked my bus for Rio Dulce. It left at 4 (3 hours in the city was more than enough), and should have arrived at Rio Dulce by 9. The hostal I’d booked was on the other side of the river and on my arrival I’d call them and they’d send a boat. Continuing my 24 hours of average luck, there was a major traffic jam were we didn’t move for at least an hour and that meant we didn’t arrive till gone eleven to Rio Dulce. I was travelling alone, and probably for the first time didn’t feel totally safe arriving in a small town on a Friday night wherever a lot of people were pretty drunk all ready. Luckily I accosted two other travellers, a Russian and a Swiss who had a mobile. But alas no answer from the hostel, so we set off walking round the town looking for another option guided by a chap on a bike. We ended up at a basic hotel, it was hot as hell. I was grumbling about my room price as it twice as much a dorm room would be…actually it was still only £8 for a private room with ensuite and a functioning fan.

I left early as possible in the morning as I wanted get to the Hostal and do something with the day. After several unsuccessful attempts to get through to Hostal by phone again, the chap on the bike appeared and managed to call them and I waited on the dock for the boat. After half an hour waiting I borrowed another phone and managed to speak to the owner, who said the boat would be there shortly, and did I want to do something today. Long story a bit shorter…the boat picked me up, I left my bags with him to take to the hostal, he took me to another dock and I took a local minibus that I got off after half an hour by a small farm and walked down a path where I bumped into the group from my hostal he’d intended for me to catch up to. I had a quick swim in the shower hot waterfall that was there…about fifty degrees! The group waited for me as they’d all ready been in.

We then headed further out on another minibus to a river and canyon. Our group being nine, we didn’t entirely fit in the already full minibus and most of the group ended up on the roof, I was gutted I’d been shoved in first at the back and missed out on some wind in hair action! Some young lads rowed us into the canyon and left as there for a few hours. It was amazing! No one else there, glorious water, more opportunities for jumping off high rocks into deep water and then swimming up against a current and clambering through rocks and slipping back into the current at the base of the rapids and floating back. The canyon was 500 metres on each side, and had a real India Jones feel. Quite often on my trip I’ve headed to some natural wonders, and often water based, but at times they can be disappointing as so many people are there. We were literally the only ones here! Again on the way back there was not much room in the minibus, but this time weren’t allowed on the roof as police patrols were around, somehow we squeezed in….

Arriving back into town we had some grub before calling for the boat…..and I finally got to my hostal! Again recommended by a few friends, did not disappoint. On a jungle island in the river, where you could swim off the dock. I was severely disappointed I failed to arrive the night before, as I’d may have two nights here now. The next day was one of the groups bday, and we took a boat trip up to Livingston which is on the coast in between Belize and Honduras. On the river trip we passed through a water lily field, stopped off a some very stinky thermal waters, and the final bit the open river closed up into a narrow gorge, quite spectacular. Only two hours on a boat, and it was a completely different place. A very Caribbean vibe and much of the people are Garífuna, Afro-Caribbean, it felt much more like Belize than Guatemala with Rastafarians offering us weed etc as soon as we were off the boat. It’s not a very pretty port town, and we were cajoled into a tour by a local to see how they really live, and were the only tourists who’d ever been round the back of the houses of the poorer people….yeah yeah whatever and of course you can have a donation towards the children’s projects….ie enjoy a couple of beers on us. Cynical I know! It was moderately interesting at best, and luckily the chap in our hostal had forwarned us not to get excited about the beach….no white sand here, more like sludgy mud. We ended with a fairly expensive but tasty and worth it lunch of the local fish dish Tapado, seafood and fish cooked in coconut milk. We arrived back to the hostal with a birthday cake organised for the bday girl. It was a really great group of people that I’d met in this Hostal, and it was a shame I’d only known them for a web days…but should be meeting up with a few of the girls again soon.

And that was my last day in Guatemala. I only had thirteen days here, not nearly long enough, and I’m not enjoying rushing but have to be in panama mid May for a flight. The other thing that really effects the travelling here in Central America is the lack of nightbus opportunities. In Argentina, Chile, Peru and Ecuador I didn’t waste days travelling, most of the time I’d get on a bus in the evening and wake up in a new place. And the comfort of transport is worlds apart to! On a chicken or a shuttle minibus it’s nearly impossible to sleep…and I have to say the travelling side of travelling is taking its toll on me a little bit. I also can’t whip out my ipad on a minibus shuttle or chicken bus to catch up on my blog, and some of the roads have been so twisty and windy that even reading is nigh on impossible. My best friend on these journeys is my iPhone…for listening to music, or desert island disc podcasts. But please don’t think I’m complaining! I’m still very much having the time of my life!!