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| Antigua and Volcan de Agua |
I’m in bar that would put Brooklyn bohemia to shame. The place is candlelit and cozy, and serves only the most obscure of draughts, as any good hipster bars should. There is a reclining nude painting a la Picasso hanging adjacent to my table, and the conversation was an orchestration of English, German, Italian, almost everything but Spanish. It was easy to forget that I was in Latina America, much less Guatemala.
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| Quite a contrast no? |
We were in Antigua (as in Anti-, as in old, Guatemala), former capital of colonial Guatemala until a devastating earthquake in 1773 compelled officials to move the capital to its current seat an hour drive away. Today it is one of the best preserved collection of colonial architecture in the New World, a secluded get-away for wealthy Guatemalans as well as the home of boarding schools for the children of its elite, and lastly a huge draw for Western backpackers.
Craddled by volcanos on almost all sides and replete with bougie cafes, Antigua is a palpable relief from the steady unease we felt in gritty bustling Guatemala City. It is an experience bought with privilege and a relish in the self-deluding backpacker’s ideal of Latin America. I have no problems acknowledging that this manicured town is in no way a portrait of Central American authenticity, but I also didn’t let that get in the way of enjoying an overpriced double espresso and a view of volcan de agua.
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| Marshmallows by volcano |
The highlight of our stay here had to be a delightful dinner on our first night after a pleasant afternoon exploring the town. La Canche lies on the northern ends of town, behind, and almost entirely obscured by a bodega storefront. I almost decided that there wasn’t a restaurant back there and was planning to settle for one of the over-decored and overpriced French bistros nearby when the loveliest little Guatemalan grandmother invited us in. She promptly gave us the choice of sopa con pollo, o sopa con vegetales (we chose chicken). The stew was hale and delicious, and we were striking up a lively conversation with some Brits and Aussies who also found their way in when we were paid a visit by Jaime.
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| Volcano puppy |
Jaime was an Guatemalan guitarist who professed to be celebratng his 54th birthday that night. He was, to put it lightly, a lively character. Unabashed of his choppy but effective English, he quickly got our names and nationalities and promptly launched into a ballad welcoming us to Antigua (parts of the song accused our Aussie friend of looking like a DEA agent and described Madeleine as Miss Universe). Then without so much as making a dent in his meal, he gave us his life story, which confusedly involved a move to Miami to convert to Judaism (this was not further explained).
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| Delicious street food in Flores |
The rest of our stay in Antigua was quite active. We took a day trip out to Lago de Amatitlan, where we went rockclimbing on the basalt rockfaces overlooking the lake. The next day we hiked up Pacaya, a large active volcano that erupted just four years ago, and roasted marshmallows at the top. For our last excursion before Madeleine returned stateside, we bussed up to northeastern Guatemala to the pretty little island of Flores in Lake Peten Itza, which served as our base for exploring the Mayan ruins of nearby Tikal.
Tikal, our tour guide explained to us, is the “New York of the Mayans.” Truly a remarkable city of stone “skyscrapers” (90 meters was a lot more imposing when these pyramids were built). Getting up at 3am for the sunrise tour was a bit disappointing when the jungle mist made it impossible to actually see the sun. However hearing Macaws and Howler monkeys wake up and having almost the entire ruins to ourselves at dawn was well worth a couple hours less sleep.
Jack Wang 