Lost and Found

Imagine a moderately sized city, with cobbled narrow streets bustling with vendors, taxis, and buses all competing for an opening in the traffic. Now insert children and stray dogs, playing games without regard to the passing vehicles. The mostly second story buildings are all of one body, no crack or crevice lives between one business and the next for whole blocks at a time, becoming something of a tunnel effect. All but two or three streets are one way, dwindling into gravel lined dead-ends. Now you are probably imagining these said streets well signed, giving label to their direction or whereabouts. Erase all those signs in your imagination. Driving through these cities, which look like a small round point on our map, turn even the most courageous driver into a child on his first day at school. 

"Border" days are big. You get up early and put on your bravest face. Though it does get tricky to stay brave when you get lost for over an hour just attempting to leave the "border" town just to get to the border itself. There are multiple stops to get the number of documents needed, just as there was in Tiajuana. But at the Mexican-Guatemalan border, we had an entourage, following us from building to building. There were about 5-6 kids under 10 years old, some money changers (pesos to quetzals), several guys trying to get hired as "border guides" and 4-5 guys just watching the spectacle of it all.  I am sure the kids and men were just satisfying some curiosity or trying to catch some business, but all their presence did was make the already stressful process more frustrating. Brian later told me that one of the boys, who was hanging off the passenger door as we were finally ready to leave, was begging me for a kiss. 

Did you know there is a whole language in the honking of a car horn? Americans mostly don't honk unless someone is about to directly run into them or if it is coupled with a curse word and "the finger" after someone has cut them off. Brian and I are definitely still getting used to the constant blaring of horns…and we are beginning to understand it as  a logical means of communication more and more. Some of the translations are "Im coming around the corner!""Im passing an alley!" "Hey amigo, hows the new baby?" "She's doing great, thanks for asking! Oh, and I need to borrow your ladder tomorrow" "These cars are not moving fast enough for my tastes!" and "Im passing you gringo! Like the van!" and so on and so forth. 

We got lost in two more cities on the way to our destination, a volcanic hot springs regaled as the most beautiful in Guatemala (with camping!). Without our Lonely Planet Guatemala, which is who-knows-where, just not in the van, most likely in the storage unit under the Morrison bridge back in Portland, finding our way to these kind of places is going to be interesting. The sky was getting darker and darker and when we were just about to turn around back to the last gas station to try and stay there for the night, we saw a sign for the hot springs!

As we leaned up against the steaming walls of the almost-too-hot pool, our bones softening and our skin delighting and all the frustrations and stress slipping away unnoticed, Brian said that the day couldn't have ended better. I wholeheartedly agreed.

The next day driving was as easy as the previous was difficult. We drove a few hours to lake Atitlan, which was just as enchanting as the rumors made it out to be.

Its not over yet Mexico, ra-ha-hahaha!

The suburbs

Guatemalan highlands

Dont hit anything!

Yep, were in the jungle.

Fuentes Georginas hot springs!

Lots of elevation gain... we were driving above the clouds!

Guatemalan topes!

Chicken buses... they are everywhere...brightly decorated to match the driver's personality. Brian has vetoed my request to paint Claudette like one. And yes, some carry chickens on the roof, haha! 

Lake Atitlan

Brian is liking the new Guatemalan beers

Sweet camp spot.