Panajachel

No tour agency in Antigua seemed to want to give me what I wanted in a tour to Panajachel on the shores of Lake Atitlan. Prices were all over the place but an overnight trip could not be arranged. I found one day trips for $60-$75 and transportation round trip for $25. Finally I walked into an agency and bought a one way ticket transportation only ticket. Now I could stay as long as I saw fit.

Returning to Mediterraneo, I worked on my computer but was continually distracted by the young ladies who worked in reception and were apparently bored out of their young heads, finding talking to the gringo more interesting than watching TV. So much for getting any work done, but it could be worse. Before retiring I set an alarm on my iTouch and asked the guard to wake me at six; my pickup time was 6:45.

The sun shone weakly through the window dawn had broken. What time was it? Six fifteen, what the hell? I forewent a shower in the suicide stall little lamenting the tingling as I completed the circuit from the electrified shower head to the grounded cold water pipe across my body and through heart.

I packed in fifteen minutes, dressed and went out front to wait for the van, which showed promptly at 6:45. The van stopped at another hotel, the driver got out, leaving the door open and rang a bell at another hotel. A minute later the horn was activated and the driver returned to the car, shut the door, turned off the alarm and left. When the transport company said to be ready they weren't kidding. We stopped at another hotel and picked up five women and headed off. After a quick stop at a convenience store and two hours of not very pleasant scenery we arrived at the town of Panajachel.

I was not even out of the van when the assault began, "Barco? Barco? Launcha? Launcha?" No, I don't need a boat, I need to get rid of these two back packs. Twenty feet away another man solicited me offering to help me found a hotel. I took him up on his offer and we walked less than 100 meters to Kakchiquel where I secured a room for Q200 (about $25 USD) on the second floor overlooking the pool.


Leaving my bags behind, I immediately strolled the 200 meters to the lake, continually assaulted by offers of boat rides. Aldous Huxley famously wrote of it: "Lake Como, it seems to me, touches on the limit of permissibly picturesque, but Atitlán is Como with additional embellishments of several immense volcanoes. It really is too much of a good thing." wikipedia. Accross the deep blue waters rose a pair of volcanoes.

Walking back through the town the cobblestone and brick streets were lined by stalls of undifferentiable product mixes, bags, pouches, cell phone cases, notebook covers of Guatemalan fabrics secured by cheap zippers that would fail within a day. I had long ago concluded that all of these product were produced in the same plant in China. Within the courtyards of the finer hotels on the outskirts of town I found some very pleasant but small gardens.

Eventually I strolled back to a travel agency and arranged for a boat trip for tomorrow. It departs at 8:30 and returns at 4:30, stopping at every town on the lake for $15. They charged me Q129, giving me an awful exchange rate, making me pay 8.6 Quetzals for every dollar. I took a room at Kakchiquel, staying in a very nice hotel and it is still cheaper than the lowest one day tour I could find in Antigua. I have found that tours are generally ways to suck money out of the unknowing and that little value is added and flexibility is reduced. I killed the morning strolling, taking shitty pictures, soon having seen everything there was to see in the little town.

In the evening I pursued that which drives men, no reason to put that nice room to waste.

Links

http://iguide.travel/Panajachel