after bidding farewell to Pete and Bec in El Remate we
jumped on a bus and headed off to Spanish school in Antigua.
We passed through Guatemala City early in the
morning and were relived to be heading directly to Antigua,
as it looked a fairly dark and dank place.
Antigua is the Spanish school capital of Central
America and many gringo backpackers come here for lessons before
heading south. We had over 100 schools to choose from, and picked one that
organized a home stay with three meals a day and 4 hours of private lessons
each day for an entire week. Our teacher Matilda was a retired teacher and
spoke very little confusing English. Studying for only one week meant we learnt
the basics, and we were sorry we didn’t have more time to spend studying, as
those that studied for three weeks seemed much more advanced that we were. Kim
was how I imagine he would have been in school, playing up and copying my work
and trying to pass it off as his own, sadly for him the teacher was fairly
switched on and could easily identify the smarter of her students J.
Part of school was to take a Spanish spoken coffee tour. Guatemala is one of the major coffee producing
countries in Central America, and we come
across coffee tours in many of the places we visit so it was great to have to
opportunity to take a tour for free. Who knew where coffee came from?? We
certainly couldn’t have imagined the process – from berry to bean – was so
involved. Coffee will be forever appreciated! We enjoyed free coffee tasting
and made a few souvenir purchases before touring the gardens. One of the
constant pleasures on our trip has been spotting all the tropical flowers,
gardens, roadsides, generally the plant life here is so tropical, bright and
simply stunning – so very removed from the natives of Australia. We
both agree a hot house will be in order when we return so we can attempt to
create our own Central American paradise.
On our day off from
school, Sunday, we did the `must’ tourist activity in Antigua, climbing Pacaya,
the still active volcano about an hour from the centre of Antigua.
We rose early, beating even dawn, and headed to the volcano which involved a
very bumpy ride in a van lacking suspension. When we arrived at the departure
point, local kids crowded around us selling walking sticks for a couple of
dollars. Both Kim and I purchased one and after paying the park entry fee we
took off, all rugged up initially but layers were soon removed. The path was
steep than anything either of us have walked, and I was too tempted by the
horses following us with their owners who called out `taxi, taxi’. I negotiated
a $5 ride up the volcano, the best money I have ever spent. Kim toughed it out,
saying he was struggling getting himself up the steep hill and only agreed to
let me take a horse because he didn’t think he could get me and him up the
mountain with our relationship still intact! For the record, the horse wasn’t
as cushy as one might think, it was nearly a 75 degree hill at some times and
holding onto a horse that is negotiating its way over rocks, mud slides and so
on was a little stressful at times. After climbing for about an hour we reached
the point where I was kicked off my horse and we continued on foot. It was
freezing on the plato and layers were quickly put back on. Suddenly, the cloud cleared
and the crown of Pacaya was revealed, the redish walls and the stains from
where lava has poured down here for centuries. It was a breathtaking sight but
before we could pick up our jaws and pull the camera out it was gone, again
hidden behind a curtain of cloud. Our group was first up the volcano and we
quickly moved onto the fossilized lava to make our way to the flowing lava
river, some 200m across the way. The heat from the lava, flowing under foot,
was incredible, and layers were taken off again as we hoped our shoes would
hold up. The lava underfoot felt very fragile and almost hollow, and we hoped
it would hold our weight. Catching a glimpse of the red hot lava stream flowing
through cracks underneath us was surreal to say the least. We reached the stream
and attempted to pose for pictures, but the heat was unbearable, and it took
several photos to get one where we didn’t look like we were melting – eyes
scrunched up, faces red and sweat pouring off our upper lips. Marshmallows came out, we soaked up the
atmosphere while watching the hoards approaching behind us. Our tour was the
cheapest we could find at $5 and an additional $5 for park entry, most tours
charge a minimum of $15, yet we arrived first and were last to leave. Being
cheapskates paid off! We got some great pictures of the crater, which would
reveal itself on occasion and also of the lava. Our guide blocked up what I can
only describe as a pressure spot in the lava, and the hissing sound was
incredible, the lava popping out around the stick and eventually the stick was
blown sky high, lava showering down, thankfully not landing on us. After we
made our way back down to the base, the local children were gathering to ask
for their sticks back! The cheek of it!! Most as shorter than when they set off
as people stick them in the lava and we jokingly told the kids they could buy
their sticks back, before handing them over – you can’t begrudge a budding
businessman. Our shoes survived incidentally!
We were lucky with our host family, a middle class Guatemalan
family with two young children and room for up to 8 Spanish students. We were
fed well, fruit or eggs for breakfast and the main meal for lunch at 1pm sharp.
We had either rice or pasta, meat of some description – chicken leg, thigh
(ewww) or a piece of ham steak eg, and a vegetable like avocado, tomato, pumpkin
or carrot, fresh tortillas were delivered each day at 12.55pm. Dinner was again
pasta or rice, whichever we had for lunch, and tortillas, potato and another
vegetable. Talk about carb overload. Kim was often hungry, and snuck off to
maccers on a few occasions. The mother would eat each meal with us and we all
spoke in Spanish, some better than others. Our fellow students were a mixed
bunch, a Japanese girl, American marine, German doctor and Swiss guy who was
about 50, all who spoke nearly fluent Spanish and were very kind not to laugh
at our botched attempts.
