Simon's Travels: Guatemala, January

After spending ten days in August in the Canadian barrens, Deb decided she wanted to fish somewhere in comfort. Guatemala was rated among the top five destinations in the world for bill fishiing, so in January we took an Aeroméxico redeye to Mexico Ctiy, then on to Guatemala City. We rode the Oregon Express Shuttle from Corvallis early enough to eat supper at Beaches at PDX

only to discover that Aeroméxico, perhaps alone among airlines serving the U.S., provided a full meal in tourist, even after midnight. Some six hours later, at Aeropuerto Internacional Benito Juárez, we had a lovely breakfast of coffee, eggs, and prickly pear leaves, and then discovered that Aeroméxico served a good meal on its Guatemala City flight too. We were stuffed.

In Guatemala City, we were picked up by Big Buoy Fishing's owner, Eric Goetz,

and driven an hour or so to his fishing "lodge," a house on the coast.

Eric is the definition of a "big boy," at six-three or so and some 300 pounds, he grew up in Texas, spent 23 years in the navy as a Seal, lives with his Guatemalan girlfriend in a room in the lodge or in his house in Antiqua, and was full of good humor and funny stories. The lodge boasts a pool (unheated—in fact, there was no hot water in the lodge at all), a palapa bar and eating area, and a number of Guatemalans to look after us.

After a breakfast of eggs, black beans, fried plantain, coffee and juice, at about seven the next morning Eric drove us to the boat and set us up, and we took off at high speed into the Pacific.

Smoke from burning sugarcane fields obscured the shoreline, clouds covered the sky, but the volcanos that dot the country rose dramatically between.

The thermometer sat somewhere in the 70s, cool for the locals but comfortable for Oregonians. When we reached some spot that seemed likely, the captain, Sammy, slowed the boat and Eddie and Tony, the crew, baitedd hooks and set lines and we proceeded at fishing speed. We were trolling eight lines with ten-to twelve-inch dead fish as bait, one set of lines about ten yards behind the boat, another twenty yards and a third set thirty yards. When a fish hit a line, whoever was closest grabbed the pole, set the hook, and handed the pole to Deb who sat on a plastic cooler at the back of the deck and started fishing. The crew frantically reeled in the other lines to keep the hooked fish from tangling up. The first fish hit but wasn't hooked, then another and Deb grabbed the pole. It was a sailfish.

It fought, several times jumped completely out of the water.

It pulled hard enough Deb needed help holding the pole but slowly she brought it closer untilTony grabbed its beak and he and Deb pulled it aboard.

It was a good six feet long and weighed about a hundred pounds.

I snapped a photo, and Tony put the fish back, holding it by its sword in the water beside the boat until he was sure it was all right and then let it go.

The next hit was a dorado or Mahi-mahi which, if anything, fought harder that the sailfish.

When Deb got it to the boat, Tony gaffed it.

We ate it for supper that evening. Yum.

The next day we repeated, except that Deb landed a bonito, which Eddie filleted and served for lunch.

The meat was deep red, and tasted great.

Then a sailfish hit, and Deb fought it up to the boat.

It was about the same size as the first one, six feet and a hundred pounds.

The third day the sea had become green with algae instead of clear blue. We raced to a spot, put in the lines, and when nothing bit, raced to another spot in the wide Pacific that looked better to the captain. Still no luck. We ran out 26 miles looking but no fish. None of the other boats did better. Eric said it was the worst fishing in January he had ever seen. He offered to let us go out the next day to make up for the bad fishing but could not guarantee better results and we had reservations in Antigua, an hour's drive inland, so we declined.

Antigua, designated a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1979, was Guatemala's capital until 1773 when an earthquake persuaded the Spanish government to move the capital to Guatemala City. It still has the air of an 18th century Spanish town with cobblestone streets and colonial structures, some restored, some still in picturesque ruin, and consequentially Antigua is now a major tourist destination.

We stayed at Porta Hotel Antigua, an upscaale hotel built in colonial style around several courtyards with gardens and a large swimming pool, flowers everywhere and two pair of scarlet macaws let out each day.

We settled in, then walked to the Parque Central, the cathedral,

the Municipalidad, and other nearby structures.

Two blocks north of the park was El Arco de Santa Catalina and nearby a series of shops,

among which was the Choco Museo where in al baño above the urinal I found useful advice.

In the evening, we continued exploring, finding the city as interesting as by day.

The next day we met Santiago, a guide Eric recommended, who drove us to an eco-lodge and restaurant above Antigua where we had a lovely view of the volcanos near the city.

He took us to Santo Domingo del Cerro, a museum and art gallery complex complete with zip lines where Deb finally got to zip

while I looked at work by Efraín Recinos, called the Picasso of Guatemala.

We visited Iglesias de San Francisco el Grande, a cathedral and monastery, completed in 1702 but damaged by earthquakes in 1717, 1751, 1773, 1917, and 1976. The chapel and cloister have been restored but the monastery remains in ruin; visitors climb around in the ruins as did we. The church is popular because the first Central American canonized (2002) is enshrined here; Peter of Saint Joseph Betancur (1626-1667), beatified in 1980, performed miracles after death as is evidenced by the crutches, artificial limbs, and eyeglasses left by the cured.

In the late afternoon, we rode horses up a steep narrow trail to a ridge below the 8,373-foot peak of Pacaya,

one of the many active volcanos in the region,

hoping to see an eruption after dark.

We rode a different trail down in the dark and drove half an hour or so to the back of the mountain and discovered a lava flow, unusual for this kind of volcano and a surprise even to our guide. Most of its activity is "Strombolian," which consists of incandescent ash, lapilli, and lava bombs ejected ten to a few hundred meters high, exactly as we had seen earlier.

On another day, we drove to Lake Atitlán, about 50 kilometers from Antigua. It fills a caldera formed by an eruption 84,000 years ago and is renowned as one of the most beautiful lakes in the world.

On the way, we stopped at the market in Sololá where local farmers sell produce much as they have for generations.

We ate lunch at a hotel with the view shown above of the lake. At the table next to us an extended family of farmers was eating—Santiago said they were speaking a Mayan language which he could not understand. In villages around the lake, Maya culture, predominantly Tz'utujil and Kaqchikel, still exists and traditional dress is still worn.

We stopped at the hotel because it included a museum of artifacts taken from Mayan cities submerged in the lake. A custodian unlocked the doors and let us take photographs (no flash).

At the lake, we rented a boat and motored across to one of the villages accessible only by water, occupied by indigenous Mayans and by backpackers from around the world.

We visited a Mayan herbal cooperative where Deb purchased naturalistic salves and a weavers' cooperative where she took a spinning lesson and purchased pantaloons made in traditional Mayan fashion on a hand loom.

On our way back to Antiqua, traffic stopped for a funeral procession.

Santiago rushed us to visit Iximché, a Mayan ruin, before closing, but we arrived too late. He talked to a custodian, who was inclined to refuse us, but the head of the site arrived and gave permission. Iximché was the capital of the Kaqchikel Maya kingdom from 1470 until its abandonment in 1524.

In 1989, Maya priests reestablished the ruins as a sacred place for indigenous ceremonies. In 2007, George Bush visited, and local Maya priests said they would conduct rites to cleanse the area of "bad spirits? brought by the president.