A number of weeks back I described Isla de Ometepe in Nicaragua as a fairytale setting that could easily have played host to either Shrek or Lord of the Rings. Lago de Atitlan, although completely different in appearance, could easily compete with Ometepe for that distinction. It is a beautiful lake set amongst gorgeous green mountains and ringed by what seems like an endless number of volcanoes. Little towns and villages dot its shores, coffee plantations climb the sides of the mountains whose peaks are often covered by clouds. It is a truly magical setting.
We reached Lago de Atitlan via four bumpy, crowded and hectic chicken bus rides. Guatemala is famed for its shuttle services catering to gringos wishing to traverse these distances at faster speeds and in greater comfort. However, I figured that my sister needed a truly local experience and there was nothing better than loading her onto a chicken bus. I must however say, that after 20 minutes of navigating the cobblestoned streets of Antigua and its surrounding I began to regret my decision. I don’t think I’ve been bumped and shaken so much since I was a little kid and asked my grandma to turn on her “podchustywacze” (bumper-uppers – this was a word I made up as a kid, so give me a break for the unofficial translation) as we approached her garden.
Our first bus abruptly stopped in the middle a busy town in a narrow alley and told us that this was the stop if we wanted to go on to Panajachel. We quickly disembarked, asked around and were told that yes, buses would pass along this street in that direction. Within five minutes a bus came by with is attendant screaming “Xela”. When he heard that we were heading to Pana, he said that yes, this would be our bus and that we were to get off at Los Encuentors. Once there we were quickly shuttled onto yet another yellow, fume belching chicken bus that took us to the little town of Solala. Finally there, after navigating the various little streets we managed to board a bus to Pana. Once in Pana it was a matter of a collective ½ hour boat ride to San Pedro de Laguna and we were finally at our destination.
So instead of one direct minivan filled with gringos and costing 80 quetzals we took 4 colorful and local-filled chicken buses and paid 25 quetzals. The difference in time may have been ½ an hour.
San Pedro is a little town on the lakes southern shore located at the base of Volcano San Pedro. It is a town essentially split into two. The waterfront constitutes the gringo-center and is filled with hotels, restaurants, bars, travel agencies, souvenir shops and internet cafes. Up the hill the streets narrow down, the churches abound, and the stores sell necessities rather than kitsch. It is a town where indigenous traditions prevail, where nearly everyone is dressed in traditional garb, where even the men sometimes wear traditional clothing, where food is bought on a daily basis at the market, and where firewood is carted in on ones back for cooking and heating purposes. Little tuk-tuks serve as taxis on the steep streets of San Pedro and are utilized by locals and gringos alike.
The lake itself, despite its beauty, is not necessarily the best place for swimming. The locals rely on it for virtually all their needs, whether it is doing the laundry, fishing or as a water source. However, it has been significantly polluted over the decades and in 2009 had major problems with plankton-like bacteria that virtually covered the entire lake in a thick layer of brownish sludge. It simply seemed more prudent to enjoy to beauty of this lake from up above then from inside it.
That however doesn’t mean that there was a shortage of things to do. Many come to San Pedro and Lake Atitlan to stay and learn Spanish. There is no shortage of schools offering private classes and accommodations are incredibly cheap. You can also take dancing classes, cooking classes or keep yourself occupied by hiking one of the numerous volcanoes in the area.
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