On our way to Rio Dulce from Flores we decided to hold a BBQ and enlisted the help of our drivers to bring some utensils and firewood while we raided a supermarket for supplies and then a butcher in the very local part of town for whole tenderloin. 200 quetzals for about 4kg of meat is a sweet deal. On to the picnic spot and some played with fire while some of us prepped the meat, potatoes in foil parcels and salad. Lounging beside a babbling stream, slow roasting the tenderloins whole and knocking back a couple of beers over a few hours is a cool way to spend a day. Even with several cooks in the kitchen, the food was delicious and all washed down with a swim in the stream. Magic.
We arrived at our hotel, Tortugal, by boat in the dark so it was in the morning that we could fully appreciate the beauty of our open air fly-screened house for six single females at the end of a long wooden boardwalk on the river’s edge. The single guys shared a lofty treehouse, also on the boardwalk and I think we got the pick of the accommodations. The food and cocktails were fabulous, Hefe the large dog of the owner did his best puppy dog eyes while we ate and we made excellent use of the pool table until the white ball jumped off the table and rolled itself off the deck edge and into the water. Oops.
A few of us ventured out around noon with a 90 minute boat ride out into Lake Izabal followed by a whining, 3km each way death march in oppressive heat to view the Finca Paraiso waterfall. Fed by a thermal spring, the falls have formed calcified curtains over the boulders and steaming, sulphurous water races down into the cold freshwater stream below. It’s definitely a new experience being cold on the bottom and hot on top. Ernie played like an overgrown boy, jumping the 8-9 metres from the top of the falls into the small patch of semi-deep pool while we watched and tried not to freak out too much as fish nibbled on our toes, without much macho success.
On our walk back to the boat we passed small herds of cows, one of which had obviously just given birth as the calf was on the ground and the afterbirth was still hanging onto mum…the miracle of life is messy.
Our trip the following day started with a boat ride then minibus to avoid catching the local “chicken bus” to Antigua. Perhaps the chicken bus wouldn’t have been so bad after all when we were involved in a three-vehicle smash that saw the oncoming car get totaled and our bus had to be replaced. As we analysed what we saw it was another miracle of life that everyone in all vehicles were unscathed and we hadn’t plowed into the back of the beer truck, rolled into a ditch or worse. The farmer nearby took us in to use his bathroom, supplied fresh coconuts and a machete to open them up and offered his guesthouse should we have needed to camp overnight. The next bus was smaller, hot and roundly unpleasant. I slipped when getting off and now I have an impressive bruise on my shin…seems we couldn’t all get away unscathed from the day’s events.
Arriving in Antigua we took time to freshen up in the gorgeous, pokey hotel, Case de Familia with its swinging love seats and cascading gardens across inner courtyards up two levels. Dinner at Rainbow Cafe turned into open mic night for local musicians, story tellers and poets. Following
Mayan tradition…sort of…Ernie secured a bottle of Ron Zacapa, 26 year old rum worth 70USD for us all to enjoy and help get our spirit back after the day’s trauma. It’s not quite like rubbing a chicken over the body then sacrificing it but it’s a lot less bloody and a lot more tasty and in our case, quite effective. A few more drinks, a great meal, a few dance moves and then suddenly it was closing time. Claire, Ernie and I continued on at a salsa club before taxiing to the market to rendezvous with an old man and his food van. A little BBQ served up beef and chicken sandwiches and more beer (even though we probably didn’t need it)…a 3am bedtime was perhaps a little irresponsible…but that’s the price you pay to get your mojo back 😉
