Thursday 18 November
Unexpectedly no bus to be had at the bus terminal, presumably it had already left. We were told to take the bus now leaving for Sacapulas,though understood little more. The bus put us off with a few others at a deserted misty junction east outside Nebaj at 6:30am leaving us wondering about the next step.
The Coban bus we should have caught in Nebaj arrived full to overflowing so we had to stand through Cunan, a clean looking town and prosperous town compared to Nebaj, and almost the whole way to Uspantan. Presumably it had left Nebaj early and done the usual circuit around town to pick up passengers.
The long day's travel west to east across Guatemala stands as the most interesting bus journey we have ever made.
After Uspantan we went even higher the hills being steep and bare with just a few pines. We came over the top where there were almost no homes in land too cold to farm and into the next valley where we crossed the river on a single track bridge only to climb up the other side through stone quarries and at one point picked up a dozen workers who lived in villages near San Cristobal across the Mexican border. The road was unmade except in towns, almost the direct opposite of rural Cross Canada Highway I (Brian) remember in northern Ontario from the 50's, where towns like Elliot Lake were simply a quagmire and it was difficult to avoid drenching pedestrian in mud.
We started to pick up mothers with babies and children filling the bus full again as there was standing room only, but by San Crisobal we were down to 18 passengers. Then from single track unmade roads we suddenly hit tarmac and the driver speeded up stopping for no-one until we reached Coban and civilisation after a seven hour journey. There had been just two stops to add water to the radiator though in desperation I remember stopping to pee in a village shopping street, hiding up against the front of the bus praying the driver would notice me! - I doubt any other passengers had been on board so long. At one the bus boy took his can down to water source where women were collecting water in the striped containers' of the type we had seen in the market at Chichicastenango, balanced on their heads with elegance and grace.
We drove down to the centre of Coban close to the Hotel Dona Victoria, walked back to El Parke and had a look at rooms in Hotel Central which were dark and cold looking although the courtyard was nice, then to La Posada, possibly the best tourist hotel in town where a room was available for just one night which we took.
Joan crossed her fingers hoping the plumbing work in progress on the shower would be completed that day. Nevertheless the hotel served a wonderful lunch of soup and stuffed peppers.
That afternoon we took a taxi to the Orchid Collection an orchid nursery just outside town. (The beautiful Monja Blanca orchids, the national flower of Guatemala, were in flower around the window boxes of the houses.)
They had 300,000 orchids of several thousand species growing on bark covered by mats in shaded plant houses but unfortunately only miniature varieties were in flower due to the season. Clearly orchids are vital to Guatemala.
The old man who took us round and was very helpful though clearly not expecting a sale and generous in sharing detailed information. Their technique is reproduction by division of plants, apparently it is very difficult to reproduce orchids from seed. Some of the flowers were less than 2mm across so small you wouldn't notice them in the wild. The plants are now protected by law in the forest but deforestation will inevitably take its toll.
Tree ferns are also used as shade in some areas, those we saw were about 25 years old. He also had azaleas, bromelia and an enormous horse tail. Whilst we went through the shaded houses we could hear birds calling noisily, a group of thrush sized ones with flared yellow tails were invading the orange trees for supper.
Having remembered the route we walked back to the square for a pizza and the Internet, Joan records having caught another cold. T good nights sleep but even though this is a more expensive hotel she could have done with another blanket.
19 November
The morning shower was OK followed by an excellent breakfast and then a leisurely walk around La Posada's garden revealing a pool with three very beautiful metal frogs, one being part of the tap handle. Also a fine carved frog in stone carrying a baby on its back.
There being no vacancy we looked for another hotel and experienced some confusion, being sent in differing directions as there were three different hotels with the name Hoteles Dona Victoria. The one we found was an extremely friendly place with a large courtyard where a large group of workers were having a buffet lunch, and in the evening a large family group of forty or more from babes in arms to seventy year olds like us and yet a third group of beauty contestants from Guatemala City preparing for a contest in the town theatre tomorrow.
That afternoon we went to a coffee plantation but no-one was available at 2:30 so we found a nice place for coffee. Casa D'Acuna is a hostal type accommodation surrounded by a beautiful garden with a nice gift shop where we bought a nice shell ring box for Judy- hope she likes it because I do records Joan.
The coffee plantation was just around the corner from the Parque. Cafe Diesel Dorff began in 1888 by a German from Hamburg who founded Finca Margarita for coffee growing plus a factory for processing the product.
We saw the ripe red beans picked by hand as they ripen put through a masher to extract the beans from the berries, washed in a water tank for twelve hours before being pumped to the drying area in the sun, the best beans settling to the bottom, finally roasting and cooled, those for local consumption being ground the rest being exported to the USA and Europe.
They also grow pimento gourda (all spice) green, cardoman, g sugar cane, nutmeg and pecaya - a bush used as a vegetable which also serves to provide shade for the coffee bushes protecting them from strong sunlight, also some very old tall trees. Joan saw a beautiful brilliantly red robin sized bird in the coffee bushes, though our lady guide said she had never seen one before. They own five larger plantations, I think this small one was mainly as a tourist attraction, where they are also planning to grow cinnamon.
We saw ripe coffee bean bushes growing from seed six and twelve weeks old but it would be four years before they started to produce berries. The main crop is Aribica with some Amarilla and Robusta type as well. The original owner was also interested in Mayan culture, archeology, beliefs and herbal medicines with a collection in the National Museum in Guatemala City.
But perhaps the fondest memory is this picture of the fine wooden paving near the house.
Saturday 20 November Bus Journey to El Estor
Brian went to get money from an ATM for we are not sure there will be one on our next stage of the journey. We set out not sure how far we would get but hoping to make Livingston but we ended up short in El Elstor, once a nickel mining town now becoming a quiet tourist retreat on Lake Izabel.
The journey was very long, slow and winding along the Palochic river, sometimes alongside the river at other tomes hundreds of feet above it. It was tarmac until Tactic afterwards it was unmade but with few potholes the main approaching traffic being pick up trucks and heavy lorries, making passing places or backing up the name of the game.
There was a baby only a couple of months old close to Brian who had recently been operated on for hare lip and cleft palate. It was on the bus for several hours with two very caring parents. It is normal for locals to breast feed their babies on the bus in other to get them to sleep during the long bus journey. Joan could see they had many problems of keeping clean as demonstrated by the technique of simply shaping the milk into the babies mouth, thinking that it wins over bottle feed and represents a different way of life. The beauty contestants in the hotel yesterday would have gone unnoticed in Swansea with their mini skirts and halter neck tee shirts.
The views from the bus were superb, grassy topped pine covered
mountains were topped with clouds. The valley grew bananas and oranges together with tall ones unknown to me covered in cheese plants, bromelids and orchids but none in flower. As we neared lake Izabel the valley floor widened with cattle like ours but also a frilly necked hump backed Indian variety accompanied by the inevitable egrets. Joan saw more than fifty in a single field
We stopped a couple of times to deliver cardboard cartons to shops, all like Brian's rucksack went on the roof. Frequent mentions only of my large rucksack seem to indicate I was in the new mode of carrying for two, caused by Joan's double knee replacement.
Both the driver and the conductor have their wives with them who since we didn't reach El Estor until dark at 6pm will presumably stay overnight and drive back tomorrow. We found our way to a Hotel Vista al Lago, once the general store which gave the town its name.
Clean too with a fan which worked well once we had discovered that 1 = fast and 5 = slow!
Then to Hugo's a great place to eat Brian made the right choice fish, I had chicken with lots of good vegetables, followed by ice cream and coffee. Hugo told us he had a hotel just a fifteen minutes walk along the shore ideal for swimming in the lake, where he kept iguanas, a deer, cats and dogs to add to the attractions. It sounded great but time was running out.
Sunday 21 November El Estor to Rio Dulce
We watched the ramshackled old wooden boat with a corrugated tin roof as protection against the midday sun morning boat come into the little pier outside the Hotel Usta at 8:30.
It was full off boxes of vegetables and fruit plus people with bicycles. The lake border is full of water hyacinths, the waters edge has pretty blue balustrade along the lake shore, a sign of increasing relevance. They are constructing a posh looking new hotel in concrete next to our hundred year old wooden one. The social club's crest calls El Estor paraiso de Mauti, Dept IZABEL, Guatemala Manache.
Nowhere was open to serve breakfast a cafe agreed to serve us with coffee by 9:30 and eventually offered wheat flour pancakes (tortillas) with beans and cream. By 10am our bus was ready to leave for Livingston but they could not change my 100 Quetzal note from the ATM, a passing girl ran off with it in a mission to get it changed but was only spotted as the bus was about to leave, for a moment Brian thought she would keep the money but spotting her in the crowd at the last minute she settled with us both and all ended well.
This bus had individual seats but little space to move around the bus. Joan records I was uncomfortable with my hip but never the less the journey along the lake shore was pleasant with lots of soft brown and white frilly necked cows, bullocks and egrets sitting in the shade. Much of the wooded land had 'Private, keep out - no wood cutting' notices.
The small town of Rio Dulce our destination was at the very end of Lake Izabel is where the river goes through a canyon to the Carribean Sea. It is a yachting centre very popular with Americans escaping the expense of living in the USA notable for being the point where the bridge crossing the river has the longest span in Central America, apparently it takes 30 minutes to cross by foot but in this sticky heat we didn't bother to try. We were stopped by man offering the nearby Hotel Posada del Rio Grande. It was cheap, clean a comfortable bed and most importantly a good fan with a spacious balcony overlooking the river.
Bruno, the man in the Travel Office, recommended the evening barbecue which was obviously the meeting place for the whole yachting fraternity. I counted thirty boats and a gin palace from where we were sitting. The BBQ meal for 40Q was pork steak sausages, mash potatoes, sweet corn, salad with avacado and dressing plus three glasses of excellent Cuba Libre, not to mention the very popular happy hour. We booked tickets for the BBQ and a river trip tomorrow for Livingston.
Our seemingly empty hotel suddenly filled up with new arrivals at 8pm but we were ready for bed
Monday 22 November. Trip to Livingston
The boat left at 9am which after picking up passengers from around the bay actually started proper an hour later by which time it was raining.
Soon the rain stopped leaving us to enjoy the trees and the birds, mainly pelicans, egrets and white herons. On leaving the River Dulce we entered a large possibly salt lake and then to Bud Island where cormorants with their wings spread out to dry were nesting in the trees.
On to a lagoon full of water with houses around and many paddlers in dug out canoes, some stationary for fishing, the route was indicated using water bottles as markers.
Our attention was drawn to hot springs bubbling up from the water. The canyon had white vertical rock walls. The woman and child next to us were dropped off at a landing stage with about thirty dug out canoes piled under a shelter, which we assumed by villagers living hidden from view on the steep hillside. To Joan's delight there was a black humming bird about three inches long flitting from branch to branch in a nearby tree.
Passed a long landing stage full of lines of frigate birds, terns and gulls, it was a long disused remnant of the days when Livingston was an active seaport on the Caribbean. Now it is inland of the lazy sleepy coastal town full of dark black West Indian Afro skins - a huge unexpected transition of mood.
We had been advised to try Topado fish soup and located it in a cafe near the sea, but it seemed to be fish cooked in a chicken stock, OK but not the delicacy we had expected. The waiter was of Indo- Mexican descent on holiday from the university in Mexico city, his father had been born in Calcutta.
As we walked along the streets we were greeted by many inhabitants eager to explain this was an Afro community one said he had first learned from an Englishman, but apologised that his accent had deteriorated from later teaching from an American. They were all friendly, - generously so. In town we found the real thick Topado soup made of fish, squid, shrimp, vegetables, platinos and potatoes.
We had ignored people walking back to the boat in early afternoon, ignoring the fact that this was low season and there might be just one boat a day. We arrived just after 3pm to find the return boat had just left. We had to pay 60$ to hire a boat to ourselves - rating this our first mistake of the holiday.
A rapid return in fact in fading light we even had to stop at our drivers home to collect a lamp, delivered by a beautiful girl, perhaps his daughter, in a red dress wading waist deep to meet us with a small torch - she was sent back to get a much bigger one, no doubt needing a boats light for safety reasons on his return journey home. He had an helper standing high in the prow watching out for other boats and floating logs, dangers the driver could not see from his position.
Back to Bruno's to eat in the rain at a table set for 16, 4-6pm was happy hour two more Cuba Libres and two neat rums all very cosy and crowded. - a happy hour to remember. Tomorrow we are off to Flores and Tical.
r
Unexpectedly no bus to be had at the bus terminal, presumably it had already left. We were told to take the bus now leaving for Sacapulas,though understood little more. The bus put us off with a few others at a deserted misty junction east outside Nebaj at 6:30am leaving us wondering about the next step.
 |
| WAITING IN HOPE - CROSSROADS OUTSIDE NEBAJ |
The long day's travel west to east across Guatemala stands as the most interesting bus journey we have ever made.
After Uspantan we went even higher the hills being steep and bare with just a few pines. We came over the top where there were almost no homes in land too cold to farm and into the next valley where we crossed the river on a single track bridge only to climb up the other side through stone quarries and at one point picked up a dozen workers who lived in villages near San Cristobal across the Mexican border. The road was unmade except in towns, almost the direct opposite of rural Cross Canada Highway I (Brian) remember in northern Ontario from the 50's, where towns like Elliot Lake were simply a quagmire and it was difficult to avoid drenching pedestrian in mud.
We started to pick up mothers with babies and children filling the bus full again as there was standing room only, but by San Crisobal we were down to 18 passengers. Then from single track unmade roads we suddenly hit tarmac and the driver speeded up stopping for no-one until we reached Coban and civilisation after a seven hour journey. There had been just two stops to add water to the radiator though in desperation I remember stopping to pee in a village shopping street, hiding up against the front of the bus praying the driver would notice me! - I doubt any other passengers had been on board so long. At one the bus boy took his can down to water source where women were collecting water in the striped containers' of the type we had seen in the market at Chichicastenango, balanced on their heads with elegance and grace.
We drove down to the centre of Coban close to the Hotel Dona Victoria, walked back to El Parke and had a look at rooms in Hotel Central which were dark and cold looking although the courtyard was nice, then to La Posada, possibly the best tourist hotel in town where a room was available for just one night which we took.
That afternoon we took a taxi to the Orchid Collection an orchid nursery just outside town. (The beautiful Monja Blanca orchids, the national flower of Guatemala, were in flower around the window boxes of the houses.)
They had 300,000 orchids of several thousand species growing on bark covered by mats in shaded plant houses but unfortunately only miniature varieties were in flower due to the season. Clearly orchids are vital to Guatemala.
The old man who took us round and was very helpful though clearly not expecting a sale and generous in sharing detailed information. Their technique is reproduction by division of plants, apparently it is very difficult to reproduce orchids from seed. Some of the flowers were less than 2mm across so small you wouldn't notice them in the wild. The plants are now protected by law in the forest but deforestation will inevitably take its toll.
Tree ferns are also used as shade in some areas, those we saw were about 25 years old. He also had azaleas, bromelia and an enormous horse tail. Whilst we went through the shaded houses we could hear birds calling noisily, a group of thrush sized ones with flared yellow tails were invading the orange trees for supper.
Having remembered the route we walked back to the square for a pizza and the Internet, Joan records having caught another cold. T good nights sleep but even though this is a more expensive hotel she could have done with another blanket.
19 November
The morning shower was OK followed by an excellent breakfast and then a leisurely walk around La Posada's garden revealing a pool with three very beautiful metal frogs, one being part of the tap handle. Also a fine carved frog in stone carrying a baby on its back.
There being no vacancy we looked for another hotel and experienced some confusion, being sent in differing directions as there were three different hotels with the name Hoteles Dona Victoria. The one we found was an extremely friendly place with a large courtyard where a large group of workers were having a buffet lunch, and in the evening a large family group of forty or more from babes in arms to seventy year olds like us and yet a third group of beauty contestants from Guatemala City preparing for a contest in the town theatre tomorrow.
That afternoon we went to a coffee plantation but no-one was available at 2:30 so we found a nice place for coffee. Casa D'Acuna is a hostal type accommodation surrounded by a beautiful garden with a nice gift shop where we bought a nice shell ring box for Judy- hope she likes it because I do records Joan.
The coffee plantation was just around the corner from the Parque. Cafe Diesel Dorff began in 1888 by a German from Hamburg who founded Finca Margarita for coffee growing plus a factory for processing the product.
 |
| COFFEE BEANS |
 |
| COFFEE BEANS DRYING |
We saw ripe coffee bean bushes growing from seed six and twelve weeks old but it would be four years before they started to produce berries. The main crop is Aribica with some Amarilla and Robusta type as well. The original owner was also interested in Mayan culture, archeology, beliefs and herbal medicines with a collection in the National Museum in Guatemala City.
But perhaps the fondest memory is this picture of the fine wooden paving near the house.
 |
| BEAUTIFUL WOODEN PAVED PATH |
Brian went to get money from an ATM for we are not sure there will be one on our next stage of the journey. We set out not sure how far we would get but hoping to make Livingston but we ended up short in El Elstor, once a nickel mining town now becoming a quiet tourist retreat on Lake Izabel.
The journey was very long, slow and winding along the Palochic river, sometimes alongside the river at other tomes hundreds of feet above it. It was tarmac until Tactic afterwards it was unmade but with few potholes the main approaching traffic being pick up trucks and heavy lorries, making passing places or backing up the name of the game.
There was a baby only a couple of months old close to Brian who had recently been operated on for hare lip and cleft palate. It was on the bus for several hours with two very caring parents. It is normal for locals to breast feed their babies on the bus in other to get them to sleep during the long bus journey. Joan could see they had many problems of keeping clean as demonstrated by the technique of simply shaping the milk into the babies mouth, thinking that it wins over bottle feed and represents a different way of life. The beauty contestants in the hotel yesterday would have gone unnoticed in Swansea with their mini skirts and halter neck tee shirts.
The views from the bus were superb, grassy topped pine covered
mountains were topped with clouds. The valley grew bananas and oranges together with tall ones unknown to me covered in cheese plants, bromelids and orchids but none in flower. As we neared lake Izabel the valley floor widened with cattle like ours but also a frilly necked hump backed Indian variety accompanied by the inevitable egrets. Joan saw more than fifty in a single field
We stopped a couple of times to deliver cardboard cartons to shops, all like Brian's rucksack went on the roof. Frequent mentions only of my large rucksack seem to indicate I was in the new mode of carrying for two, caused by Joan's double knee replacement.
Both the driver and the conductor have their wives with them who since we didn't reach El Estor until dark at 6pm will presumably stay overnight and drive back tomorrow. We found our way to a Hotel Vista al Lago, once the general store which gave the town its name.
 |
| THE ORIGINAL EL ESTOR now HOTEL VISTA EL LAGO |
Then to Hugo's a great place to eat Brian made the right choice fish, I had chicken with lots of good vegetables, followed by ice cream and coffee. Hugo told us he had a hotel just a fifteen minutes walk along the shore ideal for swimming in the lake, where he kept iguanas, a deer, cats and dogs to add to the attractions. It sounded great but time was running out.
Sunday 21 November El Estor to Rio Dulce
We watched the ramshackled old wooden boat with a corrugated tin roof as protection against the midday sun morning boat come into the little pier outside the Hotel Usta at 8:30.
 |
| MORNING BOAT at EL ESTOR |
 |
| LAKE SHORE at EL ESTOR |
Nowhere was open to serve breakfast a cafe agreed to serve us with coffee by 9:30 and eventually offered wheat flour pancakes (tortillas) with beans and cream. By 10am our bus was ready to leave for Livingston but they could not change my 100 Quetzal note from the ATM, a passing girl ran off with it in a mission to get it changed but was only spotted as the bus was about to leave, for a moment Brian thought she would keep the money but spotting her in the crowd at the last minute she settled with us both and all ended well.
This bus had individual seats but little space to move around the bus. Joan records I was uncomfortable with my hip but never the less the journey along the lake shore was pleasant with lots of soft brown and white frilly necked cows, bullocks and egrets sitting in the shade. Much of the wooded land had 'Private, keep out - no wood cutting' notices.
The small town of Rio Dulce our destination was at the very end of Lake Izabel is where the river goes through a canyon to the Carribean Sea. It is a yachting centre very popular with Americans escaping the expense of living in the USA notable for being the point where the bridge crossing the river has the longest span in Central America, apparently it takes 30 minutes to cross by foot but in this sticky heat we didn't bother to try. We were stopped by man offering the nearby Hotel Posada del Rio Grande. It was cheap, clean a comfortable bed and most importantly a good fan with a spacious balcony overlooking the river.
Bruno, the man in the Travel Office, recommended the evening barbecue which was obviously the meeting place for the whole yachting fraternity. I counted thirty boats and a gin palace from where we were sitting. The BBQ meal for 40Q was pork steak sausages, mash potatoes, sweet corn, salad with avacado and dressing plus three glasses of excellent Cuba Libre, not to mention the very popular happy hour. We booked tickets for the BBQ and a river trip tomorrow for Livingston.
Our seemingly empty hotel suddenly filled up with new arrivals at 8pm but we were ready for bed
Monday 22 November. Trip to Livingston
The boat left at 9am which after picking up passengers from around the bay actually started proper an hour later by which time it was raining.
Soon the rain stopped leaving us to enjoy the trees and the birds, mainly pelicans, egrets and white herons. On leaving the River Dulce we entered a large possibly salt lake and then to Bud Island where cormorants with their wings spread out to dry were nesting in the trees.
On to a lagoon full of water with houses around and many paddlers in dug out canoes, some stationary for fishing, the route was indicated using water bottles as markers.
Our attention was drawn to hot springs bubbling up from the water. The canyon had white vertical rock walls. The woman and child next to us were dropped off at a landing stage with about thirty dug out canoes piled under a shelter, which we assumed by villagers living hidden from view on the steep hillside. To Joan's delight there was a black humming bird about three inches long flitting from branch to branch in a nearby tree.
Passed a long landing stage full of lines of frigate birds, terns and gulls, it was a long disused remnant of the days when Livingston was an active seaport on the Caribbean. Now it is inland of the lazy sleepy coastal town full of dark black West Indian Afro skins - a huge unexpected transition of mood.
 |
| THE CARIBBEAN COAST AT LIVINSTON, GUATEMALA |
 |
| LIVINGSTON, QUATEMALA'S ONLY CARRIBEAN |
We had ignored people walking back to the boat in early afternoon, ignoring the fact that this was low season and there might be just one boat a day. We arrived just after 3pm to find the return boat had just left. We had to pay 60$ to hire a boat to ourselves - rating this our first mistake of the holiday.
 |
| A LIGHT FOR THE IMPENDING NIGHT |
Back to Bruno's to eat in the rain at a table set for 16, 4-6pm was happy hour two more Cuba Libres and two neat rums all very cosy and crowded. - a happy hour to remember. Tomorrow we are off to Flores and Tical.
r
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