Sunday 26 February 2017

Southern Guatemala

Guatemalan kids in traditional dress. A photo of a photo.
The Washing Women
Women gather at the outdoor public washrooms to hand wash clothes on the washboards.
I know it might seem strange to say that one of the highlights of Southern Guatemala was the washing women, but it left such an impression on me that I thought it was a good place to start. Villages we passed each had a central outdoor washing reservoir. Women gathered in the mornings to hand wash huge piles of dirty clothes. We learned later that poor women earn a living by washing clothes of richer families.

A social gathering every morning.
Many women had little bundles of babies tied to their backs in blankets. Toddlers were put to sit on empty washboards and given empty packets of washing detergent to play with. As in so many developing countries children sit quietly and amuse themselves with the simplest of toys.
I suppose the reason why I felt captivated by this simple daily activity (I could have stood and observed for hours) was a combination of things. The camaraderie. The ferocity of the scrubbing. The multi-tasking, breastfeeding babies while chatting while scrubbing. The daily grind. The fact that washing clothes is solely a woman's job in Guatemala.

Women chatted happily to their neighbours as the scrubbed with brushes. I wanted to ask if each lady had their own washboard which they came back to every day so they could be beside their friends and catch up on the gossip. But of course I couldn't ask. I felt I was intruding a little, so I tried to take a few bad photos standing far enough back that I wasn't seen. 

Hauling bikes onto the back of a truck - no problemo.
On our last day cycling into Antigua having struggled up two 5km climbs we knew we wouldn't make it Patzun, the next town, by nightfall. It was at the top of a 3rd 5km climb. While Rosalinde was flying up the hills with her 13kg bike and 15kgs of luggage (I made her carry all the food), I was slow as a snail on my 16.5kg bike carrying about 20kgs of luggage.

There was no other choice but to stick out our thumb and try and hitch a life. Within five milliseconds a knight in shining armour appeared around the corner and within another five milliseconds had two bikes and six pannier bags secured to a tree in the back of his truck. He drove like a maniac up and down some of the steepest gradients I have ever seen in a truck held together by twine it seemed, but we sat up front thrilled to bits.

Front right wing mirror is hanging on literally by a thread.
Wonderful Guatemalan night life. We wandered and shared all sorts of
street food from lots of different stalls. 
Antigua
The pair of us arrived into Antigua the night before Rosalinde was due to fly home. We booked ourselves into our one and only hotel room of the trip for a bargained-down rate of 20usd. It was bliss. We wandered through the cobble stoned streets and artisan markets gorging on Antigua's famous sweet breads.
Inside a chicken bus in Guatemala. Never a dull moment.
Beautiful old ruins all over the city of Antigua.
Low rise housing and no gaudy street signs. Even McDonalds looks like a classy joint.
Three volcanos surround Antigua.
Antigua vieja. A suburb.
Hitting the road again
After Rosalinde left I didn't know quite where to turn. Suddenly there I was in southern Guatemala without a plan. Noone else was coming to visit so I didn't have to be anywhere at any time and I must say I felt a little lost. I almost felt that I was too far into the trip to early. But that doesn't make sense either as this trip has neither plan nor schedule. Suddenly this winging it business, mentality made me feel a little unsure of my next step.

The original plan was to ride from Vancouver to the Panama Canal and then perhaps head back to Europe once the money had run out. That was, of course, unless I came across some irresistible opportunity en route which I just couldn't turn down. But I still had more than 1000 euros in the bank account which I knew would last me 3-4 months with only a few little countries to pedal through. A mere 2000kms left. If I put my head down I knew I could be in Panama in 8 weeks.

I thought about taking a couple of overnight buses back into the heart of Mexico. I had skipped such a large chunk of the country by flying to Cancun and somehow I just didn't feel finished with Mexico. But getting a bus backwards felt wrong also. Mexico is such a bicycle touring paradise that I also knew I'd be back. Maybe for a Mexico only bike tour. It's such a great country. So diverse, so poor, so interesting, so cheap, so colourful, so full of weird and wonderful festivals and customs, so full of kind happy helpful people wishing you well on your way at every moment. I thought I'd use some mindfulness tools from the Californian Buddhist monastery and just be happy exactly where I was.



After a couple of weeks with this dilemma swishing around in my brain I have actually worked out why I feel so unsettled. Now it may sound weird but actually if you want to ride from Vancouver to Panama you need to first ride down the west coast of the US, N->S, then down the 2000km of Baja California N->S but you then need to ride 3000kms across the Mexican mainland W->E and then kind of NW->SE through Central America. In my head I was just going from N->S on this whole trip but because the world is round it doesn't work like that. On a poster of the world South America sits neatly under Central America which sits neatly under North America. But on a round globe Colombia actually sits under New York. It may sound like total rubbish but actually once I figured this out I felt a little more settled.

Story of a Guatemalan family
The kindest souls, Hilda and Antonio who gave me a bed and air con for a night.
So I rode S to the Pacific Coast from Antigua, a delightful four hours of downhill. Arriving in the village of Laguna El Comendador at 4.30pm started as any normal evening on the road. I had spotted a church on the banks of the laguna so I headed to the village shop in search of the person who might have the key. Antonio, above, was in charge of the church key but instead of giving me the key he offered me a bed. After a long cold shower a plate containing one entire fried fish was placed in front of me. Antonio had caught it that day in the laguna and Hilda seemed only too delighted to have someone to cook it for.

After dinner we sat in the living room, watched a Guatemalan soap opera together and chatted. Hilda was the only one to sit on the sofa, I was sitting ON the air conditioner and Antonio was rocking in his hammock in the middle of the living room. It's so lovely to get a window into family life in Guatemala in such a way.

The couple left this village in the early 80's. They left behind two children aged 7 and 4 with granny. They headed for California in search of work. It was easier to get into the US in those days they said. Antonio is a carpenter and worked in construction, Hilda is a nurse so found it easy to get work. She told me that the hourly wage of 22usd for working in a nursing home was a small fortune. At night she also worked in a doughnut bakery. She told me she makes a mean doughnut.

I'm sure it's such a typical Guatemalan story. After eight years and recognised as American citizens they came back to collect their two children. Their now three grown up children all live in the US, are married to Guatemalans they met there and have between them 4 children. Hilda and Antonio decided five years ago to move home. They had no medical insurance and couldn't take the risk of getting sick in the US. Their three kids each phone home every day.

Hilda showed me a huge box that she recently received from one of her kids. Among other things it contained a microwave oven and zip lock bags of various sizes. Hilda sends her kids packages of food and always includes local honey in the package. She can send it in such as way that her kids pay for the freight on receipt of the package. Their kids send home money via Western Union. They are not wealthy but have enough and with 3 bathrooms I'm sure have the nicest house in the village - US style. They are comforted by the fact that if they get sick they can afford to go to the doctor.

And yet they sit at home most evenings, they don't go to village parties or gatherings in case there are shootings. They live in a house with no glass in the windows but with iron bars. CCTV cameras surround the house which is also supervised by a mean looking pit bull dog. They felt safer in the US but they can afford medical bills here. It sure is a crazy world we live in. Hilda cried as I left the following morning. I think I reminded her of one of her children and she couldn't bare the thought of me cycling alone through Central America. She gave me a little wooden cross and insisted I wear it around my neck at all times. It's meeting and spending time with kind generous people such as Hilda and Antonio that makes touring by bike so special.

Sherpa getting on a 'lancha' to cross the canal.
Unbelievably the Guatemalan government is encouraging
Guatemalan girls to eat ice cream. 
This truck was stranded in the middle of the road.
The day before a branch of a tree had fallen and literally cut it in half.
Beautiful sunrises along the Guatemalan coastline. 

Thursday 23 February 2017

Northern Guatemala


Rosalinde, as usual waiting for me... at the Guatemala/Belize border 
Tikal in the rain
We had heard great things about Tikal. Along with Tulum near Cancun these were probably the only other Mayan ruins we would visit. We set the alarm for the ungodly hour of 5am (I don't do alarms any more) and 30 minutes later were off in the shuttle bus for sunrise at the ruins. We had the place almost completely to ourselves. Not only was it 6am but also it was pouring rain. Go the cyclist's Gortex rain gear I say!! The site was so impressive. We wandered around for six hours but could easily have stayed a couple of days.

A pair of happy drowned rats.
These photos don't do it justice but the sight was magnificant.
This is Temple 1, the most perfectly intact of all the temples.
Tikal was a town used only by the upper classes.
Temple 1 and the pair of us.
Temple 1 from behind and the sun eventually came out.
We stayed with this poor but very happy Guatemalan
family the night before going to Tikal. A delight.
Is Guatemala dangerous?
Rosalinde bought a guidebook in Gatwick airport on her way to Mexico. She picked up the Footprint guide to Yucatan, Belize and Guatemala. Perfect for her holiday. We found it really useful but what was interesting to me was that everywhere we wanted to go came with a warning of how dangerous it was. 

I had travelled completely safely for six months with no guide book. I never read that anywhere was dangerous. Yes, of course I knew at the back of my mind the stories about this area and the narco gangs. The odd time locals would tell me to go a certain route and not another because it was safer but that was about all. In terms of camping, I get out my iOverlander app and see where people have camped before me. According to the guide book everywhere suddenly seemed to come with a rating of how dangerous or not it was for tourists. The daily tabloids would also lead you to believe we were travelling through a war zone. The first six pages every morning are covered with graphic pictures of murders, assassinations and shootings.

Guatemalan newspapers would scare the bejesus out of you.
Scary tabloid daily newspapers.
Lago Atitlan
A friend of mine Niamh C (as opposed to Niamh Mc) had recommended that we visit the lake of Atitlan. She had travelled in this area before and said it was a highlight. As is often the case we came for a night and stayed for two, swimming in the lake morning and evening and enjoying the beautiful view of the lake surrounded by three volcanos. The gringo trail leads backpackers up the volcanos, camping overnight, but we were satisfied with sitting and reading and relaxing. We met a fabulous retired Australia couple, Ian and Penelope, in our campground in their 4x4 all terrain campervan (below) who fed us slow roast pork and then a few shots of rum before bed. They also let us use their 'stove with a view' to make our porridge the following morning.

Photo from travelsintheearwig.wordpress.com
Cooking breakfast on a Ian and Pen's stove. 
Sunset on the lake. Fishermen busy preparing nets and boats.
Sunset on Panajachel, Lago Atitilan.
Sunrise on the lake. 
Locals busy mending the pier.
A local lady dressed in traditional clothes at her shop by the lake.
Beautiful views on the ride out of Pana. 3x5km climbs to leave the lago.
Maya Pedal
Rosalinde had bought her bike for the trip for 150 euros on DoneDeal.ie before traveling to Cancun. The airline fees were turning out to be so outrageous that she decided to buy a bike for the trip and then leave it in Guatemala. She found a great little project called Maya Pedal based just outside Guatemala City which remake bikes into Bicimaquinas (bike machines) and sells them to local rural communities for a very low price.

Dinner with the founders Mario and Valerie and a night sleeping at the workshop was one of the highlights of Guatemala. If there is anyone reading this has some engineering/bike fixing /general DIY skills and fancies learning some Spanish, they could do worse than volunteering here for a few weeks. Over 4000 volunteers have been hosted over their 20 years of operations. And no, you don't need to pay to volunteer at Maya Pedal. Phew!

Valerie, Rosalinde and Mario standing in front of a
mural of Guatemala at Maya Pedal.
This bicimaquina powers a blender to make aloe vera shampoo
and of course smoothies.
This one crushes corn husks so that they biodegrade quicker.
This one powers a turning plate for making pottery.
This one turns corn into meal for chickens.
This one peels macadamia nuts.
Traffic
Since Rosalinde was flying out of Guatemala City and we wanted to catch a few highlights not reachable by bike, we decided to take an eight hour overnight bus from northern Guatemala to the capital Guatemala City. There are three classes of bus. We went for 2nd class and kind of regretted it a little. But actually the road was so bad even if we had paid a 1st class price we don't think we could have avoided the bumpty-bump-bump-bump... all night long.

Guatemala City traffic is so crazy that we are stuck in traffic
entering from the north at 5.05am.
We arrived into Guatemala City at 5.05am and by 6am we were on a chicken bus (that's what everyone calls them here) with the two bikes strapped to the top for a three hour ride to Lago Atitlan. As opposed to the bumpty-bump bus ride, Rosalinde described this one as like being on a roller coaster. Guatemala buses are all old American school buses - you know the big long yellow ones you see in the movies - which are sold to Guatemala bus companies. Once they arrive in Guatemala the tail end, a couple of metres, is cut off and the engine is moved from underneath to the front. They are made shorter so that they are able to turn the corners on the narrow Guatemalan streets. Bars are also added to the tops of the seats inside, as during the roller coaster rides, a result of lunatic drivers and desperate roads, you have to hold onto something!
Catching a chicken bus at 6am in Guatemala City.
Shell's heaven, 3 varieties of mango. 3 for 1USD. Bargain.

Tuesday 21 February 2017

Belize (or Bell-ee-say as it's called locally)

Caye Caulker - an island we visited off the coast of Belize. 
Belize is a strange little country. I knew nothing about it at all except that it's good for diving. I had also heard it's expensive so we planned to pedal through quickly enough. But as usual after a few days you get to grips with a place and then the odd stuff becomes interesting so you want to stay and explore. As it worked out we stayed a week in each of the three countries on Rosalinde's route.

Just to give you an idea of the geography.
I say strange because in the middle of all this Spanish speaking hispanic culture here is a little English speaking bubble. Well that's what it says on the tin. If we actually sat down to chat to someone we couldn't actually have a conversation in English. Belize used to be called British Honduras until 1974 and the queen appears on their currency and well some English words pop into each sentence. But it feels more like a Caribbean island than a part of the land mass of Central America. The people are much darker than in neighbouring countries. There is a Jamaican twinge to their accents and they flick between Spanish, English and Belize Kriol. You also hear the sound of steel drums coming from houses/bars. And there is also a distinct Indian influence. Go figure.


All the signage is suddenly in English.
Belize has a population of about 300,000. So the same as Iceland as we learned recently during the Euros. It is about 300kms long and 100kms wide. So not dissimilar to Ireland really. It ranks 101 on the Human Development Index a full 30 places behind Mexico. So it's considerably poorer but considerably more expensive. There is a designated gringo trail which I hadn't come across before on my bike trip trip. But the whole country seems to be used by backpackers and other tourists as a springboard to get to the islands. We caught a boat from Belize City, a total no go area according to all the guidebooks, to one of the Cayes (pronounced Keys). There are 450 Cayes in total. The one we picked was the backpacking mecca of Caye Caulker which in 2016 was devastated by Hurricane Earl. Everywhere we looked there was construction underway.

Caye Caulker. Backpacker heaven. White sand and turquoise water.
Camping in someone's garden in Caye Caulker. They only
vaguely quiet spot on the party island.
Beautiful views from our campsite. 
View from our 11usd per night per person camp spot. Ouch.
View from camp spot.
Back on the mainland we actually bumped into a few cyclists. My first in quite a while. And always such a highlight. Rosalinde had a knack of finding them along the roadside.

Emanuel was from Switzerland. We rode and camped with him
for a couple of days. Lovely hotel owners offered us breakfast of coffee and bananas.
A hotel owner let us camp in the garden of his hotel for 3usd per night. Fab.
Hotel garden by the river.
Met a Catalan/French cycling couple at this roadside cafe.
We ended up really liking Belize. The roads were decent enough. There was hardly any hard shoulder but it didn't really matter as traffic was light. The weather was warm but not too hot. We cooked every morning and night which meant we could stay within a 10ish usd per day budget. The people were lovely. Unusual but lovely. This below pic of of some Mennonites, a small community of German speakers who also live in Belize.

German speaking Mennonite children who live in Belize.
Both young and old men wore the same uniform.

All the shops in Belize are owned by the Chinese.
This wildlife sanctuary was a particular highlight. As with so many 'NGO project campsites' gringos pay a high price to stay but usually the money is going towards a cause. Most also have volunteer programmes. This particular one was no different. Volunteers (mainly from the US) paid 200 usd per week to come and volunteer at The Monkey Bay Wildlife Santuary. It doesn't sit well with me that you pay to volunteer but I know that's kind of how it is.

Camping under our own palapa.
Rosalinde washing dishes. A nice job in such lovely surroundings.
Our cooking spot at The Monkey Bay Sanctuary.
A bridge in Belize we particularly liked.