Month: June 2015

Days 140-146: Quetzaltenango, Guatemala

Posted on by ajrtw

making herbal tea
Scott chopping blocks for the stove
the finished stove base
Government protest in Xela

To being our second week of Spanish class at Pop Wuj, we both felt a bit under the weather from a stomach bug and the chilling rain from the Volcan Tajumulco trek.  At the beginning of class, my instructor Katy sensed I didn’t feel well, and sought out the advice of Mynor, Ashley’s teacher.  Mynor seemed to be the jack of all trades at the school- among other things he had a lot of knowledge about herbal medicine.  He jotted down a handful of spices to combine into a tea.  Katy and I walked a few blocks and picked up manzanilla (chamomile), yerba buena (spearmint) and epazote (wormseed) from the curbside market.  Mynor doled out the correct amount of each herb and after simmering the herbs, I drank a few cups of the flavorful tea.

Tuesday evening we attended a presentation from a professor regarding the political history of Guatemala and the current political scandal and the effects on the upcoming election.  After learning about the long history of corruption and abuse of former presidents, the current situation was not so surprising.  The professor came across as being highly optimistic that the current calls for electoral reform and resignation of the president were signs of positive change for the country.

Wednesday was stove building day.  Katy and I teamed up with another student Scott and his teacher to build the “first stage” of the stove.  Started years ago, the stove project provides enclosed wood burning stoves for poor rural families that only have the means to cook over an open fire in their cocinas.  The enclosed stoves are more efficient, saving wood as well as creating a much healthier environment by venting the smoke through a new chimney.  Immediately as we walked into the large building housing the kitchen, the effects of the open fire were overwhelming.  A thick layer of soot covered the entire interior of the room, and the odor was staggering.  We got to work prepping the cement blocks by soaking them in water, and cutting some in half and quarters with dull machetes.  Our fearless leader Carmelita, who also worked at the school and the guarderia,  laid the first course and taught us the basics of applying the mortar to the joints.  At the end of the morning the basic structure of the estufa was completed and ready for the next stage involving lining the interior with bricks and applying the metal cooking surface.  We were welcomed by the recipient family and they bought us some snacks as a show of gratitude.

Again we visited the guarderia Thursday afternoon.  I sat with a young boy as he read aloud, and Ashley helped a girl who was deaf with her math homework.  In the evening we gathered for dinner of mac and cheese prepared by Scott.  At dinner we received our “diplomas” along with a handful of other departing students.  In hindsight the lessons enabled me to ingest lots of vocab, and learn a few different verb tenses.  Conversing with Katy about the differences in Guatemalan and American cultures (and our love of donuts) gave me much needed speaking practice.  To celebrate our last day of school we went out for a dinner of Chinese dim sum at the Sublime Cafe.  Saturday we made plans to stick around town with a handful of other students to watch the biweekly government protest held in el parque central.  Hundreds of locals turned out, signs were plastered around the square, and noisemakers were sounding off.  A large formation of a thousand or so university students paraded into the square, having marched from the university down the road.  Many passionate speeches were given, and a human-sized pinata of a rat was strung up onto the pillars in the park’s circular platform.  There were no violent actions, and only a handful of police were in the area.  In case anyone missed out, there was a small helicopter drone with a camera, presumably recording the entire event.  That evening we had a dinner with much of the family at the homestay and exchanged small gifts.
Our final day with Ramon and Estella we said our goodbyes and they graciously drove us across town to a hostel, Casa Seibel, to spend one more night.  Shortly after arriving we hopped on the local bus to Zunil and then a pickup taxi up to Fuentes Georginas, a mountain-side resort centered around hot springs.  Having all the best tips, Ashley knew to head away from the main resort area into the jungle to find an isolated pool.  Sure enough we hiked down a short but slippery path and followed the sound of a waterfall to a pair of small pools fed by a spring.  The water was a bit too hot in the first pool, but just right in the one further downstream.  The best part was there were only a handful of other people who were there since there are no signs for it.  After an hour we trudged back uphill and discovered we made the right choice-  the other pools were very crowded and looked a lot like a water park instead of a natural spring.

Days 138-139: Volcan Tajumulco, San Marcos, Guatemala

Posted on by ajrtw

Just below the campsite
Ashley making her way down
paintbrush flowers
Tajumulco from below
Crater

Up before the sun at 4 am, we crossed town to the Quetzaltrekkers base with our nearly full bags.  In addition to our own clothes and gear each hiker in our group of 18 carried a portion of the food needed for three meals, tent parts, and 4 liters of water.  I used my own pack (Kelty Redwing 50), and Ashley borrowed a Kelty 65 liter pack from Quetzaltrekkers.  As an unforeseen bonus, we boarded a private van that would take us to the starting point in the town of San Marcos, a three hour drive from Xela.  After taking in a large desayuno tipico at a local comedor, the trek began.  The road of concrete pavers we started on brought us to a remote village, and shortly thereafter the path transitioned to a dirt road.  Our three local guides kept a strong pace, but stopped frequently and always brought up the rear.  Within the first few minutes, the thin air combined with the heavy load and steep terrain made it apparent that progress would be slow.  Although in consolation, the temperature was mild and a heavy fog loomed above.  A few hundred meters above the village the path narrowed and terrain was populated with rocks and shrubs.  While stopping for our first break we crossed paths with a group of hikers coming down, carrying only daypacks.  Following behind were two mules, each strapped with huge bins and canvas bags.

 

Ascending further into the fog, the rocky landscape gave way to grassy fields with a large deciduous forest just beyond.  For a few hundred meters we traversed a relatively flat clearing, knowing the inevitable steep ascent would only continue.  Within the forest the guides collected a bounty of mushrooms, and avoided the brightly colored toxic ones.  A light rain came and went while in the woods, yet not enough to distract us from climbing.  Although the trail led straight up (without switchbacks) in almost its entirety, I appreciated the direct and logical route.  The slower pace dictated by the path allowed for more time to immerse one’s senses.  Just as we marked four hours of uphill hiking we arrived at the campsite, a forested plateau situated a few hundred meters below the summit.  Right on time, the afternoon rain began, and we scurried into our tents.  Unfortunately, we were missing a pack of tent poles, so we had to squeeze five people into a tent meant for three or four.  As the rain picked up, the guides prepared lunch and passed it through our tent doors one plate at a time.  The remainder of the afternoon was spent in the tent, as there was no other shelter from the rain and the dropping temperature meant layering up.  A few hours later our thin, one season tent began to show the effects of the weather- rain water was seeping through the thin walls and floor.  Our tent group decided relocating the tent to a drier area would be the best solution.  In order to do so we had to depopulate the gear from the tent, exposing everything to the rain.  When we moved the tent we realized there was no ground tarp, so the guides rolled one out inside the soaked tent floor.  Moved back into the tent, we realized the situation was not much improved than our first location, and all our sleeping bags and mats were wet.
After dusk the rain subsided enough for us to venture out of the tent to eat dinner of cold spaghetti.  With nothing else to do, no campfire, and everything soaked, we settled in for the night.  Throughout the night the rain returned in full force, yet our new location proved to be superior in the dryness factor.  With very little room sleep was difficult, yet it didn’t matter much as we emerged at 3:45 am to prepare for the summit climb.  Luckily there was moonlight to augment the light provided by our headlamps, since the path was full of small boulders.  The hour passed quickly, everyone in anticipation of taking in the expectedly grand sunrise.  Once on the bare peak, the temperature seemed to plummet and the wind picked up.  Small patches of ice were all over, but the effects of the chill were miniscule in comparison to the quality of the view.  Despite the rains, the sky was abundantly clear and the horizon was starting to glow.  At the suggestion of the guides, we brought our sleeping bags to keep warm as we ate cookies and watched the day begin.  The surrounding hills were all canvassed with a layer of fog, and we found ourselves to be above layers of clouds as well.  The hike down was much simpler in the daylight, and we had a quick breakfast before packing up and descending.  The downward route combined with the clearer weather made for many great photo ops along the way.  In just two hours we were back at the comedor feasting on an early lunch.  The ride back to Xela was on the local buses, changing once over the three hour trip.  Back at our homestay we crashed for the afternoon, thankful for a warm bed and solid roof.

Days 133-137: Quetzaltenango, Guatemala

Posted on by ajrtw

Flash flooding during a heavy storm in Xela
Ashton the guard dog of our host family

From the tourist hub of Antigua we grabbed an early morning shuttle bus  for the four hour trip to the bustling city of Quetzaltenango, also known as Xela.  Xela is Guatemala’s second largest city, situated at 2300m among the western highlands.  Our desire to take Spanish lessons led us to choosing Xela as our schooling location due to the relatively undeveloped tourism industry, hence less accommodations made for foreigners.  The school we enrolled in, Pop Wuj, is a non-profit organization heavily involved in the surrounding community with a variety of programs aimed at helping low income families.  Minutes after arriving we were greeted by our host family, Ramon and Estella, and they drove us a block down the street to their home.  We were warmly welcomed into their home that they share with their daughter and granddaughter.  Both retired teachers, Estella and Ramon inquired about our interests, meals we liked to eat, and our travel plans, all the while correcting our rudimentary Spanish and discouraging us from talking in English.  As it was Sunday, many additional members of their family visited for dinner, coming and going in waves.

Our first day of school we joined the other students and all the staff for their weekly meeting.  At the time there were about fifteen students, and a corresponding teacher for each.  Besides the standard Spanish program, Pop Wuj offers specialized courses in medical and social work fields.  Each day, class would be held for four and a half hours (for us in the morning), and then there were optional activities planned each day, ranging from presentations about Guatemalan history and politics, to volunteering building stoves or helping kids at the school sponsored family center.  Having only a few phrases of Spanish in my head, I started slowly on the first day.  My instructor Katy covered lots of vocabulary, mixing in general conversation to help get to know each other and practice speaking.  On the other hand Ashley had a foundation of Spanish from high school, so her progress was more abundant from the start.

The first activity of the week was visiting the family center, la guarderia, in the outlying countryside of Xela to help kids with homework and have a chance to play outside with them.  I sat with a group of five and six year olds, each working on a different assignment.  One girl was practicing subtraction, and the problem at hand was 60 minus 18.  To solve this, she wrote out 60 lines in her book, and then crossed them off one by one until reaching 18, then finally counting the amount leftover.  Not surprisingly, she miscounted and came up with a difference of 29.  At the other end of the table, a boy with special needs was practicing writing the letter “x” over and over on his paper.  He seemed to get the hang of it when I wrote out the letters in dashed lines and he drew over them.  Each age group of kids were supervised by an aid, each devoting a few seconds glance at each child’s progress in a continuous cycle.  Later on in the week Ashley returned for another afternoon to read and organize games with the younger kids.
One evening we joined a few other Pop Wuj students at a cafe and took in the nightlife while trading stories of how we ended up at the same Spanish school in Xela.  At the end of the week we signed up for an overnight trek up Volcan Tajumulco, and attended a meeting on Friday to meet the group and borrow gear.  Ran by the local non-profit Quetzaltrekkers (whom we had hiked with the year prior in Nicaragua), the money raised from each of the many different treks goes towards underprivileged children in the area.  At the meeting we were given a briefing of the four hour hike to the base camp on Saturday, followed by the hour ascent to the volcano rim before dawn to watch the sunrise.  Due to the cold (near freezing) temperatures at the summit we were advised to pick out jackets, gloves, and all season sleeping bags to stay warm.  We walked back to our homestay in a downpour and got sufficiently soaked by passing cars and passing through unavoidable puddles.

Days 129-132: Antigua, Guatemala

Posted on by ajrtw

Setting off from Utopia via pick up, we transferred into a 25 seat van in Lanquin for the eight hour haul to Antigua.  The van was full, including the rather flimsy jumper seats that fold out into the aisle, so we were lucky to have boarded before picking up the majority of the travelers.  Walking a few blocks north from Parque Central in Antigua, the colonial influence was immediately apparent through the bright colors, the cobblestone streets, and a vast cultural mix represented by Irish, Spanish, Mexican, Japanese fare and more.  For the first time, we booked through Airbnb and were warmly greeted at our guesthouse by Evelyn and Fernando, the friendly live in owners.  After a few weeks in dorms and relatively rustic rooms, the comfort of a real mattress and warm shower were welcome changes for us.  On the rooftop we took in the impressive views of the city and the looming Volcan de Agua just to the south. Our few days in Antigua were highlighted by some exceptional food and ample relaxation, so much so that we extended our two days into four.

Also in Antigua we learned the inside scoop (from Fernando) about the ongoing political protests around the country, calling for the resignation of the president (with signs of “renuncia ya”) and reform of the electoral process.  Despite the massive bi weekly protests organized via social media, there have been no reports of violence thus far, and as a result of the demonstrations the vice president resigned earlier this month.  Society could take a cue from the peaceful nature that Guatemalans have used to create change for good.

Days 126-128: Semuc Champey, Guatemala

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Semuc Champey pools
the slides
the downstream end of the pools
the bridge surface
view from Utopia at dusk

After another full day of travel by minibus from Antigua to Lanquin, we had to endure another 40 minute off road jaunt in the back of a pickup in order to reach the remote Utopia hostel, nestled in the hills about 3 km from the Semuc Champey national monument.  Centered around a large covered deck overlooking the forest and farmlands and the river below, the hostel immediately recalled the similar setting of the Cave Lodge in Sappong, Thailand.  However the similarities ended there, as the coffee cabana we reserved as much more rustic, and the level of organization was sub par.  We skipped on the communal style dinner and settled into our bunk beds a short walk down from the main building.  At morning we set off along the riverside trail for the walk into Semuc Champey, a natural formation of shallow swimmable pools under which the Rio Cahabon flows.  The riverbank trail provided its share of challenges when we were diverted away from the river and along the perimeter of a farm.  A pair of farmers guided us in the right direction as if getting lost at that point was a common occurrence.  Back on the river edge we negotiated some difficult steeply graded embankments with success.  We met back up with the rural road just before the suspension bridge crossing over the Cahabon.  The bridge surface was composed of loose wooden planks, a few thin tree trunks, and many gaps over a foot wide.  Over one more hill on the opposite side was the park entrance.  The park is relatively small and there was a useful map at the entrance highlighting the viewpoint, el mirador, and the pools.  We had walked along with an Israeli couple we had met on the bus the day before, and they urged us to join them in the viewpoint hike before cooling off in the turquoise waters.  The steep climb was made straightforward by a well built system of stairs.  Even after the short twenty minute hike in the heat we were ready to jump in.  The highlight of the viewpoint is getting a fantastic birds’ eye view of the river where the pools are located.  From the distance, the turquoise coloring of the water appeared almost artificial, and the swimmers like single dots splashing around.  At the top we enjoyed a serving of mango slices from a well positioned snack vendor.  On the path down we ran into a pair of Australian girls we encountered in Lake Bacalar and swapped stories.

Upon closer inspection, the pools appeared more expansive in area and depth than seen from afar.  The feeling of entering cool water on a hot day was quickly diverted to the feeling of dozens of nibbling fish on our feet.  To avoid the fish spa we headed downstream into the next pool and found a natural sloping water slide embedded into the ledge of the rock between two pools.  After a bit of surveying we slid down; luckily there was just enough water and gravity to keep going into the pool.  We enjoyed our pre-made lunch of tuna, avocado and tomato with some Deep River kettle chips, a Connecticut product we stumbled on in a Flores shop.  Just across the river from the entrance there was a cave offering tours.  We opted out of the swimming cave tour and decided to return to Semuc Champey the next day.
Along with a newly arrived group of five travelers we walked along the road into the park, saving ourselves twenty minutes and lots of headaches brought on by the poorly maintained river path we took the previous day.  Other than not repeating the viewpoint hike, we swam, jumped off ledges, and ate tuna in much the same manner for the second day.  On the walk back we managed to arrange our shuttle ride to Antigua for the next morning.  While the unique beauty of Semuc Champey and the surrounding area is reason enough to visit, the countryside was full of scorched patches of bare earth and other signs of deforestation that were a reality check in an otherwise picturesque setting.

Days 124-125: Flores & Tikal, Guatemala

Posted on by ajrtw

sacrifical altars
ant highway
a young injured bird
grand plaza
howler monkeys

Transferring from San Ignacio to Flores, Guatemala is a process in itself, yet we managed to complete it without any issues.  Hence, the following tips are for anyone crossing into Guatemala from San Ignacio:

1) Catch the public bus from San Ignacio town center to the border town of Banque Viejo Del Carmen (ask/listen for “Banque”).  The ride is about 30 min and cost us $8 BZ each.

2) At the end of the road, there will likely be taxi drivers hawking you for a ride to the border, another 2 km up the road.  I suppose walking would be an option, but we took the taxi ride for $10 BZ after a bit of negotiating.

3) Enter the Belize immigration building and pay the exit tax of $37.50 BZ per person.  There are many money changers on each side of the border, since you’ll probably want a few Quetzales in hand.

4) Walk a few hundred feet through no man’s land and come into the open air pavilion housing the Guatemalan immigration.  You will be asked to fill out an entry form, then proceed to have your passport examined and stamped.  At this point, we were specifically asked to pay an “entry fee” of Q20 each.  Ashley had read this was really just lining the pockets of the immigration officers, and asking for a receipt of payment usually changed their tone.  So we immediately asked for a receipt and the officer went silent.  He continued stamping our books and handed them back, not saying a word.  Off we went!

5) Walking out of the border towards the Guatemalan border town of Melchor de Mencos, take the first left after crossing the bridge and you will be at the colectivo/shuttle station.

We jumped in a van and waited five minutes before circling through the town to pick up additional passengers enroute to Santa Elena.  Another two hours in the van we landed in a non descript parking lot in Santa Elena.  A tuk tuk was awaiting our arrival and we managed to pay Q20 for the ride a few km into the island of Flores to the popular Los Amigos hostel.  The hostel itself is an exemplary hostel with well organized staff, a knowledgeable travel agent available 24/7, some friendly kittens, and decent rooms with A/C.  Flores is the most popular base from which travelers explore the ruins of Tikal and other lesser known historic sites and natural wonders.  Later in the evening we decided to sign up for the 4:30 am “early-bird” Tikal tour.  Walking around the perimeter street of the tiny island, we found the local street food market set up across the near endless strip of lake view restaurants across the street.  With the usual indecisiveness in choosing where to dine, we were pleasantly surprised with San Telmo, with their large (maybe too large) portions and great rooftop view of the lake at dusk.
On schedule we shuffled into a van early in the morning and arrived at the gates of Tikal National Park a few minutes before the official opening at 6 am (If you catch the sunrise or sunset tour, you actually enter the park before/after official operating hours, and must pay Q100 extra for the after hours access).  We met our enthusiastic guide and began our walking tour of the main sites well before the crowds.  As we entered the jungle we were awoken by the deafening cacophony of howler monkeys.  Our group was led through the ancient site with our guide providing the cultural narrative necessary in order to envision Tikal as it was in its heyday.  Most striking was the view of the surrounding from the top of Temple IV.  Only the tops of the other significant temples poked through the green canopy, adding to the sensation of being in a place shrouded in mystery.  Along the way our group encountered a few foxes, and our guide spotted a Toucan far in a distant tree.  Later on we heard the familiar howling and eventually spotted a group of howler and spider monkeys, actively moving about the canopy.  We ended our tour at the imposing Grand Plaza, formed on each end by Temple 2 and 3 respectively.  All the while there were only a handful of other visitors in sight at any given time, adding to the level of enjoyment in the tranquil setting of the park.  Tikal serves as an excellent education tool in the art of preservation as only twenty percent of the ruins are allowed to be unearthed and restored.  Some discoveries are best left untouched.

Days 122-123: San Ignacio, Belize

Posted on by ajrtw

One final breakfast on the island and we were back on the jet boat headed to Belize City.  Once in the city we walked half a mile over to the city bus station, where we waited only a minute before hopping on a westbound local bus that would go by San Ignacio, about two hours away.  As we planned to take part in more adventure activities in Guatemala, we chose to just spend one night in town and then head into Flores, Guatemala.  San Ignacio presented itself as a small bustling town with much of its local culture still retained.  We walked a few blocks and eventually found the J&R Guesthouse and managed to secure a private room for the night from the friendly live-in owner.  The restaurant of choice that evening was the eclectic Ko-Ox Han nah (translating to “let’s go eat” in Mayan).

Days 115-121: Caye Caulker, Belize

Posted on by ajrtw

Curious nurse sharks in the reserve
spot the seahorse
Maxhapan Cabanas
sunset view from dinner
sunset from the split
Split at the north tip
kitesurfing is popular on the island
coconut shirimp curry
exploring the bike path

Hopping in a shared taxi for the thirty minute ride from Bacalar into Chetumal early in the morning meant we would have ample time to buy our ferry tickets for that afternoon, hunt for food, and clear Mexican customs before boarding our vessel.  Like many island destinations, there are a number of ferry operators to choose from and a number of ports to depart from.  In Chetumal the two ferry companies alternate days of service for whatever reason, but both had offices easily located right next to the pier entrance.  Tickets in hand we set off to find lunch of the seafood variety.  Tacos filled with white fish and shrimp were happily consumed.

Back on the pier loaded with snacks (we island hoppers know by now to grab cheaper essential items on mainland), we queued up for the one room immigration office.  Another huge credit to Ashley for debunking the scam of the  Mexican tourism tax that must be paid upon departure- that is, unless one can prove they paid for it already in their airfare.  Prepared with our airfare confirmations on paper, the immigration officials took a very long look at them before determining we were not to pay a cent more.  The boat jetted off for a two-hour haul to San Pedro, Belize, located just north of Caye Caulker and the other Belizean islands.  Again we were processed through Immigration into Belize, and then waited another hour on the pier to get back into the boat for the last thirty minutes.

Disembarking the boat at Caye Caulker, we received guidance on finding our bungalow from a friendly taxi driver.  The taxi service on the island, and all the other motorized vehicles, are not cars but golf carts.  The island is 2 miles long, and just wide enough at one end to house a small airstrip.  Three roads of sand run parallel along its length, and a narrow bike path runs down the eastern coastline.  Within minutes we had walked past the main drag filled with restaurants serving near identical fare and several hotels with vacancy to our first home on the island, Maxhapan Cabanas.  The three bungalows set among a well-groomed and shaded garden are run by the nice couple living on the property.  Settling in to the hotel-like room with crisp sheets, A/C, hot water, and a coffee maker made for a welcomed change from dorm and hostel digs we shared during the previous week in Mexico.  Just after dark we searched for dinner and ended up at Rosa’s for some fresh crab.

By far the best way to see the island was, and is, by bike.  Many hotels (ours included) offered free bikes and locks to guests which we used daily.  Before arriving we knew snorkelling was a must-do from Caye Caulker as it was highly recommended due to the proximity to some of the best parts of the Barrier Reef (second only to Australia’s Great Barrier Reef in size).  Before doing so we gave ourselves a few days of hammock and beach lounging, keeping with the island spirit.  In addition to an abundance of typical seafood, I tried conch served in a coconut curry, which was similar in texture to clams.

On our fourth day we arranged our snorkelling adventure with Caveman tours.  Caveman, as he is known, is a local legend who ran away from home as a boy and came to the island to live  on his own.  His nickname originated from a time when he was leading tourists on a hike into a cave as a teen.  Somehow he was separated from the group and was lost in the cave without any light.  After a harrowing night alone in the cave he found his way out of the cave at dawn and was found by a search party, thereby spawning his everlasting title.  Our group of seven plus our guide set off mid morning and within a few minutes arrived at the first stop within the reef where our guide had spotted a manatee.  Above water only its vague outline was visible, but once we were beneath the surface we were in fact, in the presence of a male manatee.  Timid and  much less habituated than other marine life in the reef, we were cautiously observing him from a distance of a few meters not doing much of anything.  After five minutes and another boatload of humans showed up, he gradually swam into the distance and out of view.  Next we explored a submerged barge in 10 meters of water.  Since coming to rest on the sea floor twenty-six years earlier, the barge has spawned lots of coral growth and has an impressive array of residents of its own.  A nurse shark briefly made an appearance outside the barge before sneaking back inside.  Through large holes worn into the top deck of the barge, one could glance in and view huge schools of fish gathered in the relative safety of the enclosure.

Further out towards the reef we jumped overboard into the shark ray alley, a protected area of the reef home to many well habituated nurse sharks and rays.  For whatever reason all the tour operators feed the sharks and rays, and from the swarm of hungry sharks around the boat it was obvious they knew it too.  While watching the sharks and rays pile up into one large throbbing mass as they devoured their lunch, we couldn’t help but think how the ecosystem was being disturbed.  Along the way to the grand finale at Holchan channel, we briefly visited a green sea turtle, grazing on seaweed just as we saw in Akumal weeks before.  At Holchan, a natural valley in the reef creates a strong current, making snorkelling and treading water while avoiding the coral a real challenge.  Our guide continually pointed out tropical fish and brightly colored coral of an impressive variety.  Another tour group nearby had managed to coerce (with food) a large eel out of hiding for all to see.  A few barracuda circled the edge of the channel.  In the depths below a large ray glided past.  Everywhere we turned there was a new scene of vivid colors in ebb and flow with the shallow reef.

Quite worn out from constant swimming, we jetted back towards the island and visited the calm waters on the western coast of the island.  Within the mangroves our guide quickly located a few seahorses.  Only a few inches tall and only moving sparingly, they were tricky to catch sight of amidst the shadows.  Along with the seahorse, we had seen many other species of wildlife for the first time, and rightly so that it was in one of the world’s most extensive reefs.

Spurred on by the constant winds and watching some very acrobatic kite surfers off shore I decided to give a shot at windsurfing on the following day.  I had a great lesson from John at Contour tours, and got as far as being able to perform the most basic of maneuvers with some success.  Definitely a good place for beginners and experts alike to try it out!  In the afternoon we took a leisurely bike ride right from our second hotel on the beach, aptly named Barefoot Beach, towards the less populous south end.  The sandy path hugged the shoreline most of the length, passing by the end of the runway and a number of private homes of various styles.  Getting away from the center of the bustling town satisfied our desire for a true remote island feel (more along the lines of Little Corn, off the gulf coast of Nicaragua).  Our final two evenings we rounded out with some top-notch homemade, authentic italian pasta at Pasta Para Casa.  The reputation of the food is supported by the fact that they only serve two pastas a day and still manage to fill up when the majority of other establishments are not so busy.

Caye Caulker met our needs for an island retreat with the motto of “go slow”, but we could have done without the ubiquitous golf carts and waiters on the main drag hounding guests to check their menu.  As for the former we attributed the aggressive marketing tactics to it being low season for tourism in the region.

Days 113-114: Laguna Bacalar, Mexico

Posted on by ajrtw

rest stop
stromatolites along the channel
snake in the lake

Alighting the bus in the town of Bacalar on a quiet afternoon, we chose to walk about ten blocks to the lakeside hostel, the Green Monkey.  The small residential streets were quiet and we barely saw any pedestrians or vehicles.  Arriving at the Green Monkey house situated on a large grassy lot with excellent lake views, we settled into what seemed to be a rather laid back accommodation.  Quickly we befriended a pair of girls traveling much on the same south bound route and swapped stories.  For dinner time we found only three restaurants in the entire town to be open, and only one, Christian’s tacos, worth paying a visit.  The simple menu consisted of Al pastor (slow roasted spicy pork) tacos, nachos, tortas, tostadas, basically any type of vehicle one can imagine upon which the tasty pastor is applied.  After listening to the girls recount their boat tour of the lake that day, it was agreed we would sign up for the next day.
Following the very DIY hostel breakfast we awaited to be picked up by our tour guide, Amir.  Charismatic, funny and passionate about the lake and his job, Amir lived up to the expectations that we’d read about.  We jetted around in his pontoon boat, visiting sulfuric hot springs, several deep cenotes (huge open cavities which the lake is fed from), and the “rapids” of Bacalar featuring the second largest concentration of stromatolites in the world.  Unbeknownst to most, the stromatolites are a form of fossil that take shape in shallow water and were one of the earliest life forms detected.  As we snorkelled through the fast current of the channel, we spotted lots of small fish and many stromatolite formations.  On the return ride we spotted a large snake swimming far off the shore.  Amir proclaimed it was an extreme rarity, and the snake seemed to circle as if it was truly lost.  He curiously checked out the boat but we were not brave enough to take him on board.  Hungry that evening, we found another taqueria in town that was closed the night before.  The tacos were good, but couldn’t compare to Christian’s.  It was decided we’d amble around the corner and dine our final course at the former establishment.  Bacalar was a welcome change with it’s local feel and only a sprinkling of tourists- a must visit spot for those who enjoy a peaceful lake more than noisy beach towns.