I’ve visited Antigua twice. First time I arrived in a hot shuttle bus with 40 degrees fever and feet that could barely hold my weight because of horrendous muscle aches. Needless to say I didn’t really see much of the city the next couple of days, besides my bed, my hostel, the doctor’s cabinet and the panoramic view from the roof terrace. Second time though, I indulged myself into the Spanish language, breathing, eating and dreaming in Spanish while discovering the pretty picturesque colonial city called ‘Antigua’. Continue reading
Welcome to Tikal. As one of the main reasons why I wanted to visit Guatemala, these Mayan ruins definitely deserve their spot on my ‘this is…’ series. They’re worthy of the title ‘UNESCO world heritage’, not only because it used to be one of the most powerful kingdoms in ancient Maya history. When you visit, the atmosphere just breathes greatness and mysteriousness. Questions pop up instantly: how did they manage to make such grand temples in a time with such few building tools? How did they live? Who are those Mayans, that left so many secrets and not enough answers to silence our hunger for knowledge? Where did they sacrifice? – Yep, always interested in the bloody details. – Are there jaguars in the neighbourhood? Is it likely that I’ll be served for breakfast to some jungle animals? Continue reading
As I had a nice and relaxing last day in Semuc Champey, I figured the last night of my stay would be a blast. It wasn’t. I ended up going to bed at 7 o’clock with mas o menos – hey, I’m learning spanish – 40 degrees fever. Knowing I had to sit on a bus for five hours the other day, I crossed my fingers and hoped I wouldn’t die – just kidding – and hoped it would be over in the morning. It wasn’t. Continue reading
Ok. I think I have to apologize to you, my dearest readers, for not having posted a single word about my stay in Guatemala yet. Simply because I was having too much fun.
Arriving in Guatemala was a little bit…bumpy. When I booked my bus, they told me the whole trip was going to take me 10 hours. Little did I know that those ten hours involved a bus to the border – the border which existed mainly out of water and ten, maybe twenty, wooden boats –, a boatride all byyyyy myyyyselllf, two hours Guatemalan time waiting for my next bus and five hours shaking like a polaroid picture. Of those five, only two where needed to cross the actual distance, the other three to avoid holes in the road. To be honest, I loved every single second of that ‘busride’, the views were s t u n n i n g. Imagine green hills and cornfields with the occasional palmtree sticking out, making you feel like a Columbus seeing land for the first time because you see no living soul except the people in your van until the road becomes a little bit less horrible. Continue reading