Welcome To Paradise

I'd made it to Guatemala, and with it, the first completely new-to-me country of the trip. I didn't quite know what to expect, but one first impression was quite obvious as I rode away from La Mesilla and rejoined the Panamerican Highway: Guatemala is, as far as you can see in almost any direction from anywhere, absolutely beautiful. The highway (generous term, as it wasn't wide enough for two buses to easily pass each other) followed a small river through a narrow canyon, sheer cliffs on both sides, and in the late afternoon light, it was gorgeous. The only downside was that there was almost nowhere to pull over and take a picture without a reasonable risk of being run over by a bus or truck.

A note about the "chicken" buses that provide most of the cross-country transport in Guatemala; they are a genuine part of the culture, and have been an unexpected and ongoing highlight of riding the highways. Nearly all are converted school buses, but with wild paint schemes, lights, horns, and decorations covering the outside. The primary means of getting goods to market for many rural farmers and small producers, and in addition to luggage, you are more than likely to see the roof racks stuffed with bundles of produce, sacks of coffee, chicken crates, and the occasional person riding topside to keep it all from flying off onto the road.

My first night in Guatemala would be spent in Huehuetenago, a relatively large town only a couple of hours from the border. After some miscommunication and wrong turns, I made it to the home of my host, Selene, and her family who greeted me with dinner, a safe place for the bike, and lots of inquiries about my trip so far. They were a family of musicians and artists, along with a couple of other couch surfers, and I had a lovely night there. The next morning, I set off for one of the places I'd been looking forward to since I'd started planning this trip: Lago de Atitlán. A large lake formed from an ancient caldera and overlooked by two dormant volcanoes, Atitlán had been described to me as not just one of the highlights of Guatemala, but all of Latin America. 

Riding east on the Panamerican Highway from Huehuetenago was a constant and unfolding series of incredible vistas, only getting better as the elevation increased; there are few flat places in Western Guatemala, and the result is that at nearly every turn, you are confronted with mountain landscapes covered by tropical cloud forest, only broken by the valleys in which most of Guatemala's cities lie. It was hard to stay focused on the road at times. The closer I got to Atitlan, the more the clouds closed in, and soon I was pushing through fog and rain, obscuring most of the mountains around.

The road to the lake and surrounding towns was one of the most challenging pieces of pavement I've ever been on, in any vehicle, with steep, narrow switchbacks and extreme elevation changes, made worse by the rain and the full load I was carrying. When I finally made it through the clouds, I was presented with a view so incredibly beautiful that I nearly ran off the road staring at it. Lago de Atitlan stretched out below me, surrounded by the high cliffs of the crater that formed it, with the twin volcanoes of San Pedro and Atitlan towering over the southern shore and the sun just beginning to break through again. I have been to 13 countries including my own, and with the possible exception of Isla Bartolome in the Galapagos Islands, Atitlan is the single most beautiful place I've ever been. Recovering my wits, I made my way down to my hostel in the hopes of dropping my things and getting settled in time to catch the sunset.

I would be staying at Operation Groundswell's Guatemala Hub for the night, a combination organic farm, hostel, and teaching venue for sustainable farming and construction techniques built on a repurposed coffee plantation. Operation Groundswell is an NGO that coordinates volunteer and educational programs all over the world, with a particular focus on direct engagement with the communities and locals they partner with, rather than simply dropping volunteers in a given location. The Hub brings Groundswell's philosophies of travel and education together, and besides the wonderful location, is a genuinely interesting project. You can find out more about Operation Groundswell and the programs they run all over the world at https://operationgroundswell.com.

With a few hours of light remaining, I went down to the water's edge and started taking photos; the scene in front of me was almost unbelievable, shared only with the flock of egrets I had for company, and I once again marveled at the fact that I'd even made it far enough to be enjoying this view in the first place.

The next morning I woke up, made one of the better breakfasts I've had all trip courtesy of pancake fixings left by a previous group, and set off to San Pedro, one of the larger communities around Lake Atitlan. My hope was to rent a kayak and spend some time on the water exploring the lake, and after navigating San Pedro's surprisingly convoluted and very steep streets, I found my way to the water. Parking in the midst of a number of motorcycles, I ended up in the midst of several of their riders, all of whom wanted to know how I'd ended up in Atitlan with a bike that stood out as much as the Twin, and all were excited to hear my stories of the trip. One of the guys I was talking to turned out to be the proprietor of the kayak rental I'd been looking for, and I was soon gliding over Atitlan's clear waters. The view in the daytime was equally awe-inspiring, whether it was from the water or from the small black sand beach I reached after about 45 minutes of paddling.

I'm simply at a loss to describe the scenes that greeted me everywhere I went on and around Lake Atitlan, even if the paddle back tired me out. I'd fully planned on a relaxing afternoon followed by another day of exploring the lake, until I got a message from my friend in Antigua, a few hours down the road, that she'd be leaving town earlier than expected, and that our only chance to meet up would be the next day. Cue rapid-fire packing up and a ride back up the ultra-steep road, which was thankfully much easier without pouring rain; next stop Antigua, and a whole other post; thanks again for reading!