We sneak out of Lucy and Timoteo’s house at 5.15am to meet Aquilino and some other early-risers from our group to climb high up above Lake Atitlan and watch dawn break with beautiful colours across the volcanoes. In the distance Fuego blasts out lava, below us lies our next destination, Panajachel, and in front of us vultures swoop past on thermal gusts.
As we all witness the rising of the sun, a Maya family appear from the rocks behind us where they have been holding a night time ritual in a blackened cave. They say good morning with shy smiles and we see their still-lit candles flickering in the mouth of the cave.
Timoteo has gone to work when we return to the house, and the children are still in bed, so Lucy makes us a quick breakfast and we say our goodbyes to her. We’re back in the van with our Intrepid group by 8am and checking into Hotel Nabke in the lake-front town of Panajachel by nine. A quick shower and freshen up later and we all board a boat for a trip to the picture-postcard village of San Juan de La Laguna on the other side of the lake.
Spirits are high on the journey over and we all disembark on the jetty ready to explore San Juan. Wandering up the main street, bedecked with decorative umbrellas and musicians playing the marimba, our first stop is the very tourist friendly Xocolatl Factory, where we all take a seat as Jennifer, one of the ladies who works there, gives us information about the sacred history of chocolate and describes to us all how it is made. She apologises for not having good English and then proceeds to have us all laughing out loud with some witty one-liners and a great sense of humour.
Her biggest laugh comes after both Ahmed and I have a go at grinding chocolate on her stone slab, with limited success, and she deadpan announces that this is exactly why the job is women’s work. Inevitably we try the xocolatl rum on offer, drink delicious thick hot chocolate and buy plenty of bars of pure dark cacao; in our case choosing varieties with salt and chili in the mix.
Next door is a female weaving coooperative where disenfranchised women of the Tz’utujil Maya produce incredibly beautiful, and hugely labour intensive products, with the same belt-weaving process we witnessed in the village of Zinacantan, near San Cristóbal de las Casas. The textiles are truly exquisite but we cannot afford the money or luggage space to purchase them so make do with fridge magnets, happy that any profit from that goes to them rather than the massed tourist stalls at the jetty.
Further into San Juan we visit art galleries, a church and streets full of public art and colourful decorations, wandering by ourselves for a while before rejoining the group. While we’ve all been walking we’re nervously keeping an eye on the lake as the wind is starting to whip up waves and Aquilino had mentioned that sometimes the lake can get quite choppy. However even he is looking nervous when we’re all waiting on the wooden pier for our boat back to arrive.
Whereas the journey across had been reasonably placid, the anchored boats are now bouncing around on the surging waters. Aquilino talks to the skipper and then beckons us all to get on the boat. There’s an increasing degree of worry etched on many of our faces, with Coman in particular not a happy person on rough waters. Everyone is instructed that they must wear a life jacket and we are redistributed around the boat for the weight.
Within minutes of setting off our little boat is slamming into big waves and tossing around in the waters like we’re stuck inside a washing machine. It’s a long and, at times, pretty scary crossing and there’s a potent mix of fear, adrenaline and gallows humour as we crash and roll our way for almost an hour of palm-sweating, white-knuckle travel across the lake. Finally the jetty at Panajachel comes into view and as we pull into dock, the waters suddenly lose their vigour and the lake slips back into placid tranquility.
Slightly traumatised but very thankful, we lurch up the street and, after getting our breath back at the hotel, rejoin our group at a little garden restaurant, called Deli, where we find them all downing copious amounts of alcohol to deal with what we’ve just experienced. Our gleeful joie de vivre is a direct response to the terror we have experienced, despite Aquilino’s insistence that it was just a bit bumpy and he’s experienced far worse.
Once we’re all suitably restored to cheery normality Coman, Beth and I go for a walk to explore the farther reaches of the town, and hunt for a poncho for Beth. There’s a number of close calls before Beth finally finds the perfect purchase, a rainbow cloak of joy that exudes personality, and is exquisite in every detail.
As the sun sets we regroup for cocktails and conviviality, watching the glorious colours whilst sharing stories. And finding an Italian restaurant that has vegan options as dusk becomes night, Coman and I are joined by Elizabeth and Ahmed for a very enjoyable dinner, delving deeper into our lives and our varied future plans and hopes.
After all, a near death experience makes us all appreciate what we have in this moment and realise there’s so much more still to discover. For tomorrow, as ever, brings new adventures.
