El Remate, Guatemala

Petrichor. The juice flowing through the veins of the Gods, hitting the stones. In Guatemala.

I don’t really know how we got here, we just arrived. On recommendation of a Wally. We’ve got no money like, but at the moment that doesn’t seem to matter.

We are in El Remate, Guatemala, having crossed the border from Belize this morning. That doesn’t even begin to describe it. Let me tell you what I can see. Behind me, a vast blue lake, surrounded by greenery and hills. Liza sits next to me reading a book. We are sitting on a platform that rises above the lake, handy for not drowning. The platform starts, via a walkway, from the gardens of our latest hotel. And what gardens. Spread out in front of me, a huge circular pathway encloses one gigantic tree, a landscaped representation of the Mayan world. No seriously, that’s what it says. The gardens are easily the best part of an acre, with our hotel at the back of them. Squeaky green parrots do their stuff in the trees next to us while otherbrightly coloured birds, yellow mainly, fly around. Giant black squirrels pinch fruit from the trees, running away with it in their mouths like naughty schoolboys stealing William Tell’s apples. Everywhere is green. And hot. So hot. Despite the small shower and the petrichor.

We left San Ignacio this morning via the reliable BBOC bus to Benque for 2bzd (60p). Followed by a hideous ramshackle taxi driven by a white Spanish speaking guy who seemed to have his father in tow, a father who was determined to spend as long as possible in the shop on the way while we sweltered in the back seat. Never mind, we couldn’t have walked it. Never mind he charged double either (10bzd). We reached the border, the Guatemalans were lovely. None of this immigration card shit. Give passport, stamp passport, go. How it should be.only slightly spoiled by the hassle we then got from Guatemalan taxi drivers who were determined to take us to Flores (we didn’t want to go there) for 40USD (which we didn’t want to pay). No matter. We shrugged them off and found a collectivo in town to take us to El Remate, an hours drive down the road, for £2.50 each.

Also on the collectivo...an English couple, he from Bedford, even lived in Brickhill. Dave are you reading?

Wally had told us where to get off. What Wally hadn’t mentioned was the 2km walk in boiling hot sun with our rucksacks. Jumped in another collectivo before we died of heat exhaustion, 50p each well spent. Arrived just in time...for a power cut. Which has knocked out the cash machine. And, as mentioned up there, we have little money and no food. We may just keep buying beer and staring at the Mayan worldscaped garden.

I believe there’s an exciting test going on at home. Where better to follow it from than the Guatemalan jungle?

Edit. We’ve just had rum and cokes delivered by cable wire over a distance of 100m. This is going beyond decadence.