Guatemala is HOT
Trip Start
Feb 10, 2008
1
12
29
Trip End
Aug 06, 2008
Flores,
Guatemala
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Having left Los Amigos Hostel in Flores, I decided to head to a little establishment about 90km south called Finca Ixobel, which translates literally as Ixobel Farm. The name is a little misleading however, as it's not really a farm as such - more of a lodge, surrounded by acres of forest, hills, lakes, and other such nature-based delights. Although I could have stayed in the dirt cheap (and not unpleasant) mixed dorm, I decided to shell out the extra few quetzales to stay the night in my very own treehouse! Unfortunately it seems that the owners of the farm are just as frivolous in the naming of their types of accommodation, as the treehouse was in fact 100% tree free. Still, it was pretty cool - built on stilts, with its own balcony and hammock, and nothing but candlelight to aid your vision once the sun goes down. As I walked to the main reception building for my buffet dinner, I looked up at one of the most beautiful night skies I've ever seen, and thought what a romantic place it was. At least it would have been if I hadn't been staying there on my own - as it was I had nothing better to do than read by candlelight, use the timer function on my camera to take atmospheric (and some might say erotic) photos of myself in my undewear, and othewise twiddle my thumbs (and indeed any other extremities....)
As picturesque and relaxing as the finca was, the following morning I decided to get the hell out of there so that I could be reunited with other forms of human life. I had been told that the buses to my next destination passed right by the entrance to the finca, but I figured I might as well walk down the highway with my thumb sticking out, for the execise if nothing else. However after a few unsuccessful attempts, I decided to abandon the hitchhiking aspect of the aforementioned behaviour, and instead began to enjoy the sun-soaked walk though relatively beautiful countryside. So much so in fact, that I hatched the fiendish plan to attempt to walk the entire 90km of the journey, using the roadside as a somewhat uncomfortable resting place whenever necessary. However as the weight of my pack on my shoulders increased in time with the incline of the road, I realised that perhaps I had set my sights a little high, and so instead opted to try and make it just 16km to the next major village. After a few hours I was feeling pretty confident of succeeding, but suddenly a bus pulled up beside me and told me that it was heading in the direction that I needed to go. Although I felt a little guilty at abandoning my spur of the moment hike, the prospect of comfortable seating and a Guatealan Grandma as my companion proved too strong a temptation to resist, and it turned out that I was only about 1km from the village I had wanted to reach anyway. After about an hour or so on the bus I reached the town Rio Dulce, so called because it lies on the banks of the river Rio Dulce. Seems fair enough. The town itself didn't look particularly enticing, so I jumped straight on a boat headed for Livinston, a Caribbean town that has no overland connections to anywhere else in the country. The boat trip itself is reccommended by many as one of the country's highlights, and it was certainly my favourite expeience of the trip so far in terms of natural beauty. The jouney takes about 2 hours, and the river is hemmed in at either side by huge walls of tropical vegetation, dotted wth little wooden riverside houses and locals going about their business in hand carved wooden canoes.
I was actually quite sad to arrive at my destination as it signalled the end of the boat trip, and my mood was not improved when I was immediately accosted by some gibbering local who insisted on showing me to my hostel of choice, even though I already knew where it was. I believe he was offering me other advice and infomation about the village on our journey there, but I couldn't decipher his toothless ramblings. He continued to linger even upon our arrival at the hostel, so I gave him $3 to get rid of him. The hostel was called Casa De La Iguana, and was run by a (self proclaimed, yet unproven) well hung former stripper from the UK. Although I wasn't a huge fan of the gents in charge of the place, or indeed the town itself, I ended up staying for 3 or 4 nights. I can't really remember doing anything of note during this time, truth be told - I just wanted a few days to relax (not that the rest of the trip has been paticularly taxing so far......), and spent my days and evenings eating, going on the internet, watching cable TV, reading, playing chess (up to 6-1), and chatting to all the other backpackers. So although my time in Livnston was fairly uneventful, I quite enjoyed it for some reason, and it was also pretty good to my budget (not least because I was sleeping in a hammock every night for $2).
When I did eventually leave I believe it was last Tuesday or Wedneday, at which point I headed to a little place on the river caled Finca Tatin - once again a somewhat misleading title, as there was not a pig in sight. There was however a dog which was the size of small horse, and another dog who smelt damper than a goldfish. But I must leave my tale there, as I'm off to fry myself in some Midday sun. Guatemala is HOT.
Adios
