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.