To the bat cave!!!

Having endured quite enough of minus 2 degree nights in the Highlands, we shipped off to Lanquin, a small town surrounded by jungle, famed for its bat cave. (I know, I thought it was Gotham City too). We duly arrived at dusk just in time to witness thousands of bats coming out of the cave in search of early evening mosquito tapas. Very, very impressive. But no sign of Comissioner Gordon. Or Robin.

The next day, we visited Semuc Champey, a local beauty spot, famed for the loveliness of its pools and waterfalls.  What better spot to while away an afternoon? Naturally, I signed up like a shot.  Of course, I hadn´t taken into account that before reaching the pools, we had to wade/swim through water filled caves, whilst clutching a lighted candle. I´ll be honest, it wasn´t one of my finest hours, blog-mates, and, although there is photographic evidence, I´m afraid the computer I´m currently using doesn´t recognise the camera. Perhaps later....

Returning to our jungle abode tired, yet relieved to be alive, we retired to the bar for a restorative margharita. Imagine our horror upon returning to the room to find a tarantula sitting in the middle of the floor, bold as brass. I bravely ran to get help, leaving JB to keep watch on the beast.   The hotel porter came to sort it out, muttering things about girls and spiders and rolled up newspapers.  However, he took one look at the beast, whipped out his machete and with cries of "Aaaargh, danger, danger", he chopped it in two.(or possibly four, I wasn´t keeping an exact count)
And so to bed...... Sleep well, blog-mates. And remember, always check under the bed.

Western Highland Fling

Once I´d got my breath back from my heroic ascent of San Pedro, we set our sights westwards, and arrived eventually in Quetzaltenango (a name which must score at least 200 on a scrabble board), or as the locals call it, Xela. (They don´t have scrabble.)

Xela is in the Western Highlands, and indeed we could see the highest point in Central America, Volcan Tajumulco from there. (Only saw it mind, those climbing days are over)

There's not much to do in Xela and so we were forced to visit the town´s museum. A strange place, the ground floor is filled with things that they weren´t able to sell at a car boot sale. (Old typewriters, mobile phones, marimbas, stuff like that)
 The first floor houses a collection of stuffed beasts, the like of which I have never seen before. Imagine, if you can blog-mates, that the village idiot has been let loose with My First Taxidermy Kit and a room full of roadkill. The expression on the owl´s face in particular will haunt me for many nights to come.
 At this point, I would normally insert a photo to illustrate my point. Luckily for you  photography was not permitted in the museum. Sorry.

Foreign pie news

Guava pie. (Honduras)  Expected great things from this tropical delicacy, however was sadly disappointed.  Little more than a jam tart with a lid on, and lacking in the jam department too. A poor effort.


Chocolate pie (Guatemala). Although strictly speaking a tart, its inclusion can be justified by the sheer quality of the product. Excellent pastry, rich chocolatey filling, light dusting of roasted nuts. A triumph. Well done that baker.

Maximon

I recall promising to tell you more of the Mayan god Maximon. And as you well know by now , blog-mates, I´m a woman of my word, and so here´s the lowdown on said deity.
He´s basically a mixture of Mayan belief with a bit of Christianity thrown in for good measure (or possibly as an insurance policy, who knows?)
Anyhow, it seems that each village has its own Maximon, and his appearance varies greatly. Common to all though is the fact that he always smokes a cigar and people bring him gifts of money and firewater. He´s usually surrounded by an assortment of fairy lights and slightly past their sell-by date Christmas novelties belting out  old favourites such  as Santa Claus is Coming to Town  and Jingle Bells. (And you thought that Catholics sometimes go a bit over the top....)
Here´s a couple of pictures of him, to give you an idea.

This one is at Chichicastenango.

And this one is at Santiago de Atitlan (as if you care- though you should. We had to pay to take this picture you know.) The guy on the left is a (v.casual) shaman.

Should you need more info on this or indeed any other aspect of the afterlife, may I recommend this blog´s companion site, the very well informed, JHB´sBigTrip.blogspot.com?

More volcano action

Putting aside my disappointment at the previous volcano encounter, when, as you may recall, we were cruelly deceived by Arthur the so-called guide,  I set out with JB at my side, to conquer the mighty (yet dormant) Volcan San Pedro. (Not to be confused with the San Pedro in Belize. Obviously)
Rising up at a frankly massive 3050m (about 10,000 feet in English money) it is the highest I´ve been since Woodstock.
The ascent played merry hell with my knee, and I´m pretty certain I retched up a lung, but the views from the summit were stunning. See for yourselves.

Lake Atitlan (stop sniggering at the back)

And so we arrived in Panajachel, on the shores of Lake Atitlan, once described as the most beautiful lake in the world. It´s huge, and surrounded by volcanoes, though once again, no lava. Our first stop was the nature reserve, where we turned our backs on the nature and signed up for an afternoon´s zip-lining instead.

Zip-lining is not an activity for those of you with a weak heart. Or bladder, come to that. Suspended 190 feet above the forest canopy, you launch yourself into mid air and fly, quite literally, by the seat of your pants at a speed that must surely  come close to breaking the sound barrier.
It wasn´t half good though.

Suffering slightly from adrenaline overload, we took it easy the next day with a visit to the market at Chichicastenango (I´m not making these names up, you know.)  The market was all you might expect, colourful, noisy and full of stalls selling things.
We managed to drag ourselves away from the shopping frenzy for long enough to visit the shrine of the local Mayan god, Pascual Abaj. He´s the big cheese in these parts, second only in ranking to a god called Maximon. (more of whom later). The Mayan people come to pray to Pascual Abaj for the things that they need: help in business, recovery from illness, the wheel-that sort of thing. They offer him gifts of food and drink, and occasionally sacrifice a chicken or two. 

When we arrived at the shrine, there was a full blown ceremony taking place with a shaman presiding over offerings of food and lots of fires burning. It was quite  thing to witness, I can tell you, blog-mates, though as JB pointed out, it was a bit reminiscent of an out of control barbecue.

Anyway, study the pictures and decide for yourselves.

This one's not actually the ceremony. It's the market. I just threw it in for some local colour.



These are from the ceremony itself.

This one shows Pascual Abaj Himself. For the uninitiated, he's the stone in the centre of the picture.

And here's a nervous chicken, hoping Little Timmy recovers before she's needed to perform in the ceremony.

Ring of Fire

No, Blog-mates, not a reference to the spiciness of the local food, although I will admit there have been one or two incidents....
I´m talking about the many volcanoes dotted around this part of the country. There are 33 in total, of which only 3 are active. And it was with some trepidation that I began my ascent of Volcan Pacaya, one of the "live" ones this afternoon. I needn´t have worried as it turned out.
Our guide, Arthur, wouldn't let us go up to the crater´s edge, claiming that there were clouds of sulphuric acid up there and that in any case, last year´s bumper eruption had all but drained the lava. I´m old enough to recognise a swizz when I see one, and not even Arthur's toasted marshmallow on a stick could quell my disappointment.


To add insult to injury, whilst we were on the allegedly live volcano, we saw another one erupting in the distance. Bah!
 Anyway, here are some pics of the day´s events (apologies for lack of lava)

 

Clouds of steam of sulphuric acid?? You decide.


This one is Volcan Fuego, aka The One That Got Away.

 And here´s one of Arthur, looking distinctly shifty in my opinion, toasting his marshmallows.

Foreign pie news

Cheese and Ham (Guatemala)  Almost, but not quite a pasty, Pastry OK. Filling could have been improved by; A) the inclusion of even a small amount of cheese, and B) exchanging the spam-like mock ham for something that had at least seen a pig.

(Meat pie (Guatemala) Very nice flaky pastry Lots of meaty filling. Although now I come to write this, I realise that the meat in question wasn't actually specified. However, as I didn't see the word donkey written anywhere in the shop, I think we're safe on that one.

Back into Guatemala

Following a swift six hour dash in a cramped minibus, we arrived in Antigua, Guatemala. The former capital (until a series of earthquakes spoiled things), it's a really lovely place. In fact, I'd go so far as to say it's probably the nicest place I've been to. And I've been to Accrington. The city is surrounded by volcanoes (mostly sleeping).Anyway, here are a few snapshots of the place, including a rather atmospheric (and dare I say romantic?) sunset over the volcanoes.

More Mayan ruins and stuff

Well, as promised/threatened depending on your outlook, I{ve decided to enrich your lives with a few more Mayan ruins and stuff. (Send more money and all this could stop you know. It's in your hands....)

Although not technically a ruin, this macaw would appear to have a wheel where its leg should be.....

Into Honduras

We moved on from Flores, with some regret (what with the toucan and everything) and struck out for the marvellously named Rio Dulce. It was a lovely journey downstream (apart from the torrential rain- lucky I had that plastic sheeting about my person) and we saw lots and lots of birds, including herons, pelicans and some other white ones.
Sadly our destination, Livingstone, (not the one in Scotland) didn´t quite match up to the journey. It wasn´t really very nice and we only stayed one night before pushing on towards Honduras.
We broke our journey again in a place called Chiquimula and I only mention it so that if any of you are ever tempted to holiday there, I can advise you thus: DON´T.
Anyway, moving on, we eventually arrived in Honduras, in a place called Copan Ruinas (next to the ruins at Copan if you DO know) and it´s really quite delightful. We´re staying in a hotel that appears to be run by a direct descendant of an unholy coupling between Basil Fawlty and Albert Steptoe, but are moving to an altogether swankier place tomorrow so that´s ok. (cocktails on the terrace doncha know...)
As for the ruins themselves, they are stunning. Not the biggest. Not the most mysterious, but certainly the most intricate carving seen so far. And to top it all, they have scarlet macaws flying round the site.
Normally at this point, Gullible´s travels would furnish you with several examples of intricately carved stelae (and parrots) to emphasise the point. However, due to unforeseen circumstances (exhausted batteries- not to mention exhausted author) photos not available at this time. Don´t worry. They´ll be forced on you soon enough.
And now I hear the ancient Mayan call to Happy Hour..... Till next time blog mates, till next time.

Foreign pie news (an occasional series)

Those of you who know me even reasonably well will know that I´m not one to turn down a pie. It occurred to me that this foreign travel lark could provide me with a chance to sample (and comment upon) foreign pies. so far then, and in no particular order:
Pineapple pie. (Belize) Pastry very good. Feel it must have been made by (or possibly under the supervision of) a British pastrychef. Filling was, frankly, pineappley.
Coconut pie. (Also Belize). Again, very nice. The fact that I was violently sick some 15 minutes after eating it, can´t really be held against it, as was in a violently rocking boat on the barrier reef at the time.
Sort of cheesy pie thing. (Guatemala). Frankly horrid. Think it had been deep fried. Am only clutching at straws really when I say it was filled with cheese. Not recommended.

The impossibly romantic (to some anyway) sunset, and the toucan that may have caused the confusion.
You decide

And they say romance etc .... (2)

And so we find ourselves in Flores, an island on Lake Peten-Itza, and quite possibly one of the loveliest spots in the world. (see pic).  We went across the lake to the zoo, where among the many exhibits we saw a toucan, easily the best thing there despite its being held in solitary confinement. (I imagine it must have held up a bank or something...)

Anyway, picture the scene on the way home, motoring slowly across the lake, the sun setting, incredibly romantic, I think you´ll agree. I glance across at JB to see if he´s feeling the same way. Imagine my surprise, blog-mates, when I notice that not only is he smiling, but he´s holding a small round box in his hand!  "Look at this " he says softly. Crikey, I think, that toucan affected him more than I thought.  I lean forward . "I´ve just found this travel comapass in the bottom of my bag", he says, "Now we´ll always know where we are".

Lord Byron must be turning in his grave.....

Mayan ruins- We trudge round them so you don´t have to......

This trip has, so far, encompassed many, many Mayan ruins. Some better than others, Rather than subject you to all of them, Gullible´s travels has prepared a selection of some of the best seen so far. They include ruins from Tulum, Belize, and Guatemala, including the mighty (and frankly marvellous) Tikal.
(The tiny figure in the foreground is, as eagle-eyed blog mates will have spotted, JB,)

Go west, young nana

With some sadness, we left San Pedro, and turned our faces westward,m towards Guatemala. First stop, though, San Ignacio, a market town some 10k from the border. (Well, we wanted to acclimatise, plus we still had sonme Belize dollars left.....)  We spent our time here visiting Mayan ruins (of which more in a moment) and partaking of several (extremely) happy hours.

Thought I´d share a few views of the tropical paradise that is San Pedro.....  including the local dive master

And they say romance is dead....... (Part 1)

Imagine, if you will, a place where crystal clear turquoise waters lap pristine white sands. Welcome shade is provided by the coconut palms that grace the water's edge. This, dear blog mates, is the scene that greets me each morning as I rise, Venus-like from my  slumbers. I felt compelled to comment on the above to JB, who gazed at the scene for some while before replying, "Yes, the sand is very white, its a bit like cement". Truly, inside that gruff exterior there beats the heart of a poet. Though obviously unpublished.

La Isla Bonita

Madonna once warbled,  in one of her more catchy tunes , "Last night I dreamed of San Pedro". Well, I'm proud to say that I can go one better than Madge because last night I dreamed IN San Pedro. And very lovely it is.  We're  in San Pedro, on Ambergris Caye,  for a few days, chilling out in our beach front hotel, sipping rum and watching the sunset. It's not all landlubber based fun though. This morning we went on a snorkelling trip out to the barrier reef  (2nd largest in the world if you do know) and had the immense pleasure of swimming with  nurse sharks and Southern stingrays. (To be fair, I think the pleasure was mostly on our part. The sea creatures looked like they'd seen it all before, but at least they didn't try to eat us.)

Mosquito watch

No. days on the road: 6
No. mosquito bites : 19
No. incidents involving charging headlong into semi-closed shutter of greengrocers shop: 1

The Mayan pyramid temple at Coba. Proudly not sacrificing since 689.....

A selection of the birds actually available to him

JB dreams of the riches awaiting him on the fabled Isla Mujeres

Welcome back!

Welcome back blog-mates. You find me in Mexico. More specifically, the Yucatan peninsula. Even more specifically, Tulum. Firstly, a couple of things I've learned about Mexico so far. 1. The Mexicans most definitely DO NOT dance on their hats. And they tend to frown on you trying to. Especially when they're still wearing it. 2. Tequila, though still a vile brew, can be rendered almost palatable when served in a Margharita. (Plus you get the added salt- always a bonus in hot climates.) We began our odyssey in Cancun a couple of days ago. It has been said that when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life. I say that when a woman is tired of Cancun, she has probably been there about 36 hours. (The downtown bit anyway.) We took a boat trip over the exotically named Isla Mujeres (Island of Women) Imagine JB's dismay on arriving, only to find that whilst there were indeed women on the island, they were mainly of the larger variety or accompanied by strapping brutes. In a vain attempt to cheer him up, we visited a turtle sanctuary, where we saw turtles (who would have guessed?) and a shark. Later still, we repaired to a beach where I swam in the Caribbean. (not with the shark) Now we're in Tulum, and it's been Mayan ruins all the way. We climbed a 42 metre pyramid this morning. Disappointed to note that ritual sacrificing appears to have died out some 1500 years ago as there were several annoying children in the vicinity.