After postponing my departure several times, on the 6th day I hit the road south, or rather..the boat.
I thought that if I took the boat to Santiago de Atitlan on the other side of the lake - avoiding the 18 km road that circles San Pedro Vulcan and that has been strongly discouraged by several local people as been a dangerous road to cycle - I could arrive in Antigua that same day just 100 km away. But I didn't take into account that I was at the bottom of a gigantic Caldera that forms Lago Atitlan, and to leave it I would have to climb..and it was not just a small climb.
In the first 32 km I accumulated 1050 meters. It was a hard ascend, but the views of the lake and surrounding mountains offered me an excuse to stop every km to catch my breath. I had made only 35 km when I arrived at the junction village of Godinez when it started to rain.
I was exhausted so decided to lodge myself in the only guesthouse of the village, that for been still under construction, I got an excellent discount to spend the night in a cell-like room with no window. The toilet was a hole in the cement waiting for an eventual toilet seat in a compartment at the end of the corridor still waiting for a eventual roof. But i didn't complain. the strong rain didn't penetrate inside and the bed was comfortable, besides, Lucy the owner, prepared me a delicious "caldo de rez", beef broth with vegetables.
The following day a took a shortcut through a secondary road via Potzun reaching the CA1 at Chimaltenango. Avoiding to cycle north (and more climb) to the junction at Los Encontros. I had been informed by the owners of the "Guesthouse-to-be" that that area was not very safe due to the amount of bandits. But the only one that I met was the young guy in Potzun market that sold me an orange juice for 12 Quetzals instead of the usual 5 or 6.
In the end of the afternoon after an accentuated downhill I arrive in Antigua leaving the highlands beyond. I looked for the main square, as I usually do every time I arrive in a new place in order to get my bearings and also central accommodation.
The city had a different atmosphere from what I had been used to in the last few Weeks cycling in the highlands of Chiapas and Guatemala. The street were full of tourists astonished at the colonial charm of the city and seemed to observe me mounted on my bicycle as if I was part of some sort of ambulant souvenir market. The one not astonished was me that had to jolting through the cobbled streets, that to the eyes of a cyclist, was the worst Spanish contribution to the hundreds of colonial towns throughout Latin America.
Antigua sits in the valley of Panchoy close to the base of 3 Vulcanoes. Vulcan Agua, Vulcan Fuego and Vulcan Acatenango, that add an unquestioned charm to the colorful colonial city. The center of the Spanish colonialism during 320 years.
It has to be said that the Spanish were not very fortunate with the choice of its capital. It was rare the decade that the city was not affected by a earthquake, a volcanic eruption, or both.
In a certain way, Antigua is the Prague of central America. It escaped the urban development characteristic of other Guatemalan cities and re-surged from the rubble of earthquakes and eruptions as the jewel of the past. And like Prague, tourists seat in shady patios enjoying a cappuccino or in search of the perfect souvenir. Some meander through the cobbled streets where a church seems to pop up at every corner. The peaks of the volcanoes are always in sight as well as the small cylindrical towers on the roofs of the old Iberian roofing tiles.
Others take photos to locals at the same time that their shoes are shone by a 6 or 7 years old indigenous boy in the Plaza Central. A pretty and shady square of old buildings painted in color crayon or pastel and with a fountain with a lot of "colonial realm" at its center, made with several statues of naked women pressing their breasts with the hands and gusting out water of their nipples - I try to imagine he quarrels of the local council when they decided to make such thing.
Despite the very touristy environment, one can not deny the city its charm, and I stayed several relaxing days doing like everyone else..just cruising around the cobble streets and drinking cappuccinos.
I had agreed with Jeff that I would wait for him there so we could cycle together to El Salvador. Jeff kruys is from Canada and another nomad cyclist roaming the roads of the continent. His plans are even more ambitious then mine. He wants to ride all the way to Tierra del Fuego...and back to Canada!
Curiously, Jeff left Inuvik in the Canadian arctic - the place of departure of my adventure - just two days before me.
During several months we cycle through different itineraries. Destiny briefly joined our routes 5 months later in the desert of Baja California. Since then we kept contact.
6 months, 8000 km and 3 countries later our routes met again in Guatemala. But for big coincidence it may seem, this type of situations are not uncommon.
We all cycle from place to place in search of the same...
When Jeff arrived we celebrated the occasion with a bottle of "venado especial", sugar cane firewater. We had a very long conversation were we exhausted our stories of deambulation on the roads of the American continent. After many solitary weeks it was good to cycle with a partner again. 3 days later we where at the 7th border crossing of this adventure on the pan-American highway: El Salvador.
Nuno Brilhante Pedrosa
Em Antigua, Guatemala.
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