Lago de Atitlan
We spent a night with Bill Moulder at the renowned Lake Atitlan last weekend at the Rancho Grande Inn, where the host assured us our bungalo was the best in town, claiming both Robert Redford and Al Pacino had stayed there.
The drive to Panajachel on the Pan American highway was adventurous. The road weaves through the mountains west of Guatemala City, and narrows through a handful of small towns which left us with the impression that this, not the Capital City or our beloved San Cristobal, was the real Guatemala.
The last hundred or so kilometers were pure mountains. The road snaked around precarious cliff where farms grew on impossibly steep inclines. We passed locals hauling bound packs of firewood on their backs (always uphill), the occasional serious biker, and were passed by several tour buses packed out with gringos.
The vigorous landscape left me a little car sick as we approached Panajachel, also goes by Pana, or Gringotenango, and has been for many years the hippie mecca of Central America, and a major tourist attraction. Many have called Lago de Atitlan the most beautiful lake in the world.
It was nearing sunset when we began our descent into Panajachel which, even at lake level, is still at an altitude of 1,560 meters. We came around a bend to find a mirador (lookout point) with a view of the most spectacular thing I have ever seen.
The luminous clouds at sunset twisting around the volcanoes had an otherworldly presence, a kind of magic and miracle in their shape. We stood in shock for several minutes, literally in shock, then gathered enough of our gringo wits to snap a few photos, and took off.
We arrived in Panajachel after dark where its narrow streets were flooded with cars, buses, shoppers, and boys negotiating the scene on old Huffy’s. Pana did not have the charm of Antigua, to be sure.
After settling into our overpriced bungalo, we walked Calle Principal, the main street through town, and scoped out the handicraft booths while looking for a place to eat. We settled on a little dive in the center of town and had a nice meal, then caught a tuk tuk (a motorized rickshaw) back to our Robert Redford bungalo, where we lit a fire and reminisced about our Trinity years with Bill.
Standing on the beach the next morning taking in the three volcanoes looming over the lake, I could see why so many people come to this place, and why many never leave. We tooled around the beach, had coffee, and took a boat ride. It was a perfect day for all three.
(Bill and the boy on the streets of Panajachel)
The drive to Panajachel on the Pan American highway was adventurous. The road weaves through the mountains west of Guatemala City, and narrows through a handful of small towns which left us with the impression that this, not the Capital City or our beloved San Cristobal, was the real Guatemala.
The last hundred or so kilometers were pure mountains. The road snaked around precarious cliff where farms grew on impossibly steep inclines. We passed locals hauling bound packs of firewood on their backs (always uphill), the occasional serious biker, and were passed by several tour buses packed out with gringos.
The vigorous landscape left me a little car sick as we approached Panajachel, also goes by Pana, or Gringotenango, and has been for many years the hippie mecca of Central America, and a major tourist attraction. Many have called Lago de Atitlan the most beautiful lake in the world.
It was nearing sunset when we began our descent into Panajachel which, even at lake level, is still at an altitude of 1,560 meters. We came around a bend to find a mirador (lookout point) with a view of the most spectacular thing I have ever seen.
The luminous clouds at sunset twisting around the volcanoes had an otherworldly presence, a kind of magic and miracle in their shape. We stood in shock for several minutes, literally in shock, then gathered enough of our gringo wits to snap a few photos, and took off.
We arrived in Panajachel after dark where its narrow streets were flooded with cars, buses, shoppers, and boys negotiating the scene on old Huffy’s. Pana did not have the charm of Antigua, to be sure.
After settling into our overpriced bungalo, we walked Calle Principal, the main street through town, and scoped out the handicraft booths while looking for a place to eat. We settled on a little dive in the center of town and had a nice meal, then caught a tuk tuk (a motorized rickshaw) back to our Robert Redford bungalo, where we lit a fire and reminisced about our Trinity years with Bill.
Standing on the beach the next morning taking in the three volcanoes looming over the lake, I could see why so many people come to this place, and why many never leave. We tooled around the beach, had coffee, and took a boat ride. It was a perfect day for all three.
(Bill and the boy on the streets of Panajachel)
posted by Daniel Todd at 2:27 PM
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