30casa30.com

To all,

Sean and I will be going into a week of Silence and Fasting tomorrow.   To mimic the old oral teachings of the Tree of Life where one year of silence was required.  This will enable us to go deeper within ourselves.  Dissolving the external.  Allowing our energy to be focused on meditation rather than digestion.  We’ll be focusing our minds in the four elements.  Spending time at the Lake (for water), in the Medicinal Garden (earth), our Pyramid with incense (air), and the Temple (fire).  So, if you are wondering where we are when we don’t answer emails or don’t call.  No worries…I’m just sitting in a Pyramid in Guatemala staring at Sean.  Looking at him staring at me.  Wondering why we’re in a Pyramid in Guatemala, not talking, and hungry.  Just makes sense, right!?  Feliz Navidad!!

We arrived in San Pedro via a water taxi from San Marcos.  San Pedro definitely has it’s gringo influences while still trying to maintain it’s Mayan roots.  Where ever possible there are coffee trees, avacado trees and corn stalks.  Laundry and showers were even done in the Lake.  We lucked into a hotel room right on the lake so we booked it for three nights ($8 USD a night total).  This included a great view of the lake and Mayan laundry and showers from sun up till afternoon.

We also celebrated Thanksgiving here…which we’ve already posted.  As that was more time sensitive in us wanting to wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving from Guatemala.

After settling in and a hearty Thanksgiving meal we decided on another hike, Volcan San Pedro, and another go for the big guy.  It was time for Trevor to get back on the horse or never dare to climb a Volcano again.   And boy did we ever pick a steep one.  Again through our brillant Spanish we were able to organize a guide and park entrance for Volcan San Pedro which from our understanding was a casual hike to the top.  We meet our guide and two other hikers in San Pedro proper at around 6 am under the assumption that we would have transportation awaiting to take us to the park entrance.  What we soon found out was there was no transportation for us except for our feet.  Halfway awake and no breakfast we started hiking Volcan San Pedro essentially from our hotel room and through the back streets of San Pedro to the Park entrance.

Volcan San Pedro towers above the village to a height of some 9,900 feet.  From the park entrance, which is at 6,000 feet, 2.5 miles are traversed to reach the top.  Quite a steep ascent over a relatively short distance.  At this time our guide informed us that most hikers don’t make it to the top.  Probably something that the tour agency should of pointed out before we booked.  At the halfway point (which Trevor and I thought was the end of the hike) stood El Mirador a lookout with great views of San Pedro.  Again our guide shocked us with new information, another 2.5 hours to the top with it being much steeper and tougher…Oh boy!…contemplation of ”can we do really do this” was written all over our faces.  We were already sweating with legs burning from the first 2 hours to El Mirador.

The two others in the group turned back at that point and headed back to town with the guide.  The guide left his son, Edgar, to lead Trevor and I to the top.  After another 30 minutes you could just see the pain in Trevor’s eyes…through the sweat.  We were told only another 2 hours to the ¨ultima vista.¨  His decision was made, he had gone far enough.

<<Trevor>>   ”Not to mention, every step up made me want to you know what in my pants.  I mean come on…I hiked straight up from 6 am until 9 am in the morning.  My lord, where was that in the brochure…oh wait, there wasn’t one.” 

After a 3.5 hour hike from the Hotel to the top of Volcan San Pedro we (Edgar and I) reached the ¨ultima vista.¨  We spent about an hour on top having lunch, Edgar pointing out Pavos, and taking in the views of Lake Atitlan from 9,900 feet.

That’s our guide, Edgar, who is 12 and has hiked Volcan San Pedro everyday for the last 4 months… all while in loafers, not breaking a sweat, or stopping to take a sip of water.  As we neared the top I was stopping every 10 mintues to catch my breath and wipe sweat from my face.  All I could hear were the words coming from Edgar…¨you champion…vamos….veinte minutos…rapido¨  How could I let Edgar down, he thought I was a champion.  At every little milestone Edgar would smile give me a high five and then a bump.  For most of the hike my head was down and I was slowly moving forward but I could hear Edgar pointing out different plants, flowers and animals.  He’s going to be a pretty excellent guide in the future.  He’s already ready for the Leadville Trail 100.

Edgar was eager to get back down after lunch and still had so much energy so he convinced me that we could run down the volcano….¨rapido…you champion.¨ I couldn´t let him down.  So we ran.  The trip down and back to the hotel as 1.5 hours. 

The following day, legs exhausted [and were for the next 5 days or so], moping around the town we noticed that the Algere Pub was showing different sporting events.  And what did we see on the listing for Saturday…

2:30 Kansas State v Fresno State.  Can you believe it!?  In a town of 2,000 people mostly being Mayan and without TVs, we find a pub that has a satelite dish that only gets Fox Sports [I think Fox Midwest since the Chiefs were on the next day].  As we settled down for an afternoon of burgers, buffalo wings, and litres of beer we realize that Fox Sports has changed the KSU game to the OU vs. OSU game…Really!?!  KSU lost anyways so better not to watch it but just seeing Kansas State on the T.V. schedule in the streets of San Pedro, Guatemala was good enough for us.

Regardless, we stayed at the pub all afternoon, with the company of our friend Volker.  An energetic Austrian living in Tucson, AZ with his own travel blog <Click Here for Blog>.  Naturally we exhanged info.  From one critic to another.  Although, he gets paid for his work while we do it out of love for our readers.  Another debate, who’s a better writer…for love or for money?

After nearly 10 hours at the pub we decided to take a shot at our first full moon party (our first late night)…which was more or less a Kansas high school party/rave.  At 1 am the locals started wondering around gathering the tourists at the dock.  Having to take a boat to a private house where music was playing.  As we walked up the grass to the dance floor we saw multiple people dancing with trees and cornstalks.  Felt like home, hah!  We stayed only a short while, as 3 am was far longer than our average bed time of 9 pm, catching a boat back to San Pedro.

The following morning we checked out of our lakeside hotel, leaving the feeling of pure exhaustion behind us…

Pop-ta-Poptun!  What a start to our trip to Finca Ixobel, which is a working farm outside of Poptun which is outside of everything else.  After a 3AM wake up for the sunrise tour of Tikal we arrived back at Flores at noon to clean up after a day touring Tikal in the rain and to await our minibus trip to Finca Ixobel.  We figured after an early wake up we would arrange for a minibus to Finca Ixobel instead of the standard chicken bus.  We were picked up at 2pm at the hotel…nice start…and we are the only ones on the minibus…nice we can catch a nap…and we headed out of Flores.  But first a quick stop at the bus terminal in Santa Elena .  Oh boy…we are on a collectivo minibus headed to Pop-ta-Poptun.  For the boys that were in Ecuador this is the same as Riobamba, Riobamba, Riobammmbbbbaaaaa!  We toured Santa Elena for the next 30 minutes picking up Guatemalans to the ever so sweet yell of Pop-ta-Poptun (the drivers assistant consistently yelling Pop-ta-Poptun!..Trevor and I even gave it a shot) until we had Guates stacked on top of each other and falling out of the minibus.  No worries they gave us gringo´s shotgun.  And we literally dropped off anyone anywhere along the road and picked up anyone anywhere along the road.   This actually was quite efficient for the number of people that got on and off the minibus.   But no nap and no relaxation when you have Guatemalans sitting on you.  And in the end it took us even longer than the chicken bus.  All in all the trip seemed perfectly normal and enjoyable….I think we have finally acclimated to being on the road.

Finca Ixobel is described by lonely planet as ¨a resort for backpackers¨ and it actually was in a way.  It felt a bit like summer camp without the parents paying for it.  Dinner was at 7Pm, bar opened at 9pm, the pool was actually a pond, there were activities you could sign up for; river tubing/canoeing, horseback riding, hiking, etc, and everything was on the honor system.  We had to write down everything and pay at the end.

It´s a working farm [couldn´t figure out what though] with dorms, tree-houses, and a campsite.  Even with the Fincas´ numerous activities to do…it was raining the whole time we were there…everyone just hung out, ate, drank, played TAKI [Israeli version of UNO] and the Guatemalan favorite ¨pairs¨.  This was Trevor and I getting a little R & R from our R & R…stranded on a dude ranch in the middle of nowhere Guatemala…good times. 

But never fail Trevor and I saw break in the weather and went for a short hike which turned out to be a muddy climb up a near by mountain nicknamed the pyramid.  logical deduction would of registered that this hike is going to be steep and muddy.  It didn´t until about half way up the pyramid…hands covered in mud, sweat dripping, and no top in sight.  But the views were kind of worth it. 

After an adventurous climb Trevor figured to give Bear Grylls a run for his money and try to ride a wild Guatemalan horse…coming to Discovery Channel in the Spring…¨Trevor v. Wild¨

Trevor does the heavy lifting in terms of the blogging for the website.  I figure I’ll add some color commentary from time to time. And that time is now. For those of you that know Trevor, I have found his bizarro other self and what Trevor would be doing if stuck on an island off the coast of Belize.

This man is none other than Jolly Roger that Trevor speaks of in the blog about Caye Caulker.  Jolly Roger is a Gargantuan man of 400 or so lbs who spends his nights grilling shrimp and barracuda all while dancing and singing Reggae.  Jolly Roger stopped us while walking along Front street to a sweet serenade of “No, woman, no cry” and the promise of the best food in Caye Caulker all in the impossible to understand on the first take Caye Caulker [Caribbean] English. But since there was the Australian group in front of us there were no seats left at the picnic tables so Jolly Roger persuaded us with all we could drink Rum and Cokes while we waited. We waited, chatted with Jolly, drank more Rum and Cokes, and watched Jolly grill, dance and sing reggae.  I could see Trevor taking it all in…

I think Trevor has already found his next job…World Famous Jolly Trevor.   Well at the very least I think Trevor might have a whole new bag of grilling tricks when he gets back to SD…No, woman, no cry…

Fast, so fast.  Amazing what technology can bring us.  Some curse it, but, in this moment I have to say I bless it.  Yesterday morning I was in San Diego.  Hugging Faina, kissing her on the forehead acknowledging her wishes for me to ¨travel safe¨.  But, that was yesterday.  Today due to the wonders of air travel, first class air-conditioned Volkswagen buses, digital cameras, the Internet (thank you Mr. Gore), and Carty´s MIS degree…I´m in Mexico, writing a blog and sending pics.  Amazing.

We arrived yesterday, as seen in this photo, with no difficulties.  I mean no difficulties.  Sean´s flight was 20 minutes early and mine the same.  Quickly found each other right outside of customs and headed to the main bus terminal on our way to Valladolid.  Moms, you´ll be happy to know that our first meal was street meat, just couldn´t resist.  Combo #4 of delicious gorditas.  No idea what was in them, but, no poo problems to report.  Its our iron solar plexus.

Enough for now, we´ve been on these computers for 2 hours now trying to find the ¨n¨ on the keyboard along with interpreting Microsoft menu options while uploading, compressing, and rotating photos.  I overwrote every picture I took choosing the option ¨Guardar todo¨ which apparently means ¨save all¨.  No worries, my father taught me well, I had backed them up before diving through menu options written in Spanish.  Time to find a Cerveza and some Pavo (I think it means Turkey) Nachos.