December 16 - Flores
Arrived at 8 a.m., found a hostel and spent the day checking out the island.
Flores is a slightly twee little town located in northern Guatemala (in the region called El Peten), in the jungle. Its main charms are the views around the lake. You can walk around the seawall in 1/2 an hour or less and pretty much every direction has a view of thatched huts, islands, boats and tropical trees with the odd azur blue or yellow-orange hotel. Its claim to fame is its proximity to Tikal - the most well-known Mayan ruins in Guatemala.
It´s now 4:30 and darkness falls in an hour or so. I will head down to the lake. I hear you can swim here. I have yet to decide what I´ll do on my birthday in 2 days...The really excellent news is I´ve booked my bus from Flores to Chetumal for Dec. 19 which means I can stay here on my birthday. I´ll make it to Cancun by 7 pm, in time to meet my tour group.
Tomorrow I´ll do my guided tour of Tikal. I´ll be picked up at 5 am.
In Guatemala, homes are walled to the street, with barred windows and circular barbed wire cabled along the tops of walls. Especially in Antigua, behind the walls could be the most beautiful gardens and homes, historical relics, etc. Here in Flores it's no different. At my hotel, like most buildings, there are no outside walls on the inside. You walk up flights of steps to your room and the roof is an open garden with hammocks and views of the lake. There is also a washing machine where the staff wash the sheets and towels, then hang them to dry on the clothes lines.
There´s a beautiful breeze on the island now, after a hot and humid day. Everyone is out along the shore, walking, sitting, talking, swimming - locals and visitors together. They are building a seawall all around with wide stepped areas to hang out or swim from. As the sun begins to lower, the clouds appear white-washed, glowing white from the edges and pinky, bluey-grey in the centre. They follow the receding shores and islands further down the lake. It reminds me of Vancouver and the West Coast.
As soon as the sun is down, a tropical meloday begins as bird noises emerge from the blackness. Squawks, squeals, caws, whistles, chirps and calls. It´s a lovely place here.
Virtually no one speaks English here so this is challenging. It´s such a small town I try to say hello to the locals as I walk past. It´s the usual handicrafts, hostels, restaurants and hawkers. But there´s local life too. At this time of year, lots of celebration leading up to Christmas. More processions, firecrackers and band music long into the night.
Tikal to come...
It´s now 4:30 and darkness falls in an hour or so. I will head down to the lake. I hear you can swim here. I have yet to decide what I´ll do on my birthday in 2 days...The really excellent news is I´ve booked my bus from Flores to Chetumal for Dec. 19 which means I can stay here on my birthday. I´ll make it to Cancun by 7 pm, in time to meet my tour group.
Tomorrow I´ll do my guided tour of Tikal. I´ll be picked up at 5 am.
In Guatemala, homes are walled to the street, with barred windows and circular barbed wire cabled along the tops of walls. Especially in Antigua, behind the walls could be the most beautiful gardens and homes, historical relics, etc. Here in Flores it's no different. At my hotel, like most buildings, there are no outside walls on the inside. You walk up flights of steps to your room and the roof is an open garden with hammocks and views of the lake. There is also a washing machine where the staff wash the sheets and towels, then hang them to dry on the clothes lines.
There´s a beautiful breeze on the island now, after a hot and humid day. Everyone is out along the shore, walking, sitting, talking, swimming - locals and visitors together. They are building a seawall all around with wide stepped areas to hang out or swim from. As the sun begins to lower, the clouds appear white-washed, glowing white from the edges and pinky, bluey-grey in the centre. They follow the receding shores and islands further down the lake. It reminds me of Vancouver and the West Coast.
As soon as the sun is down, a tropical meloday begins as bird noises emerge from the blackness. Squawks, squeals, caws, whistles, chirps and calls. It´s a lovely place here.
Virtually no one speaks English here so this is challenging. It´s such a small town I try to say hello to the locals as I walk past. It´s the usual handicrafts, hostels, restaurants and hawkers. But there´s local life too. At this time of year, lots of celebration leading up to Christmas. More processions, firecrackers and band music long into the night.
Tikal to come...
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