In the central park here in Antigua, imaginatively called
Parque Central there is a fountain whose main feature is unusual. It’s four or perhaps five well endowed women squeezing their bosoms in a
desultory sort of fashion and looking rather bored as a stream of water gushes
from each nipple into the fountain. We
saw people posed hilariously and photographed by their friends as if they too
were squeezing the famous boosooms. Naturally I photographed them too but in a
sort of ironic fashion. What fascinates
me is imagining how the fountain got produced.
Imagine the famous fountain designer sucking his pencil (yes, maybe that
is where the idea came from) and thinking
“what is appropriate and arresting for the fountain in the central park in
Antigua”. What’s even more interesting
is whoever commissioned the fountain being presented with the design and saying
“yes, yes, big titted women, squeezing them, gushing into the fountain. Yes, all in the best possible taste. People may even pose in the future as if they
too are squeezing them”. It’s just what
Antigua needs. Mind you it made us
smile every time we went past them.
Apparently Antigua is
a World Heritage Site although I have no idea what that means in practice. It is less littered than English towns and
every road is cobbled, houses are colourful and it doesn’t seem to have
inappropriate development. It all seems
of a piece somehow and very satisfying.
One of the locals
told us to go through any open door because they’ll be things to see or
buy. It’s true, many of the small shop
doors open one room back into a courtyard surrounded by other shops, sometimes
with a further courtyard behind that. Streets
full of mini-malls. Despite all the
potential purchases our bags weigh no
more than when we left home. We do pack
light and managed this time to come in at just over 9 kilos a bag each or our
checked in backpacks. However, my hand
luggage with camera, two lenses, binoculars, laptop, ipod, ebook plus various chargers was a further 8 kilos
! Something must be done.i
Strolling about after dark it is very noticeable how many
more of the indigenous population are about, mostly trying to sell handicrafts. I did see a woman who I think was the
shortest adult I have ever seen who didn’t have dwarfism. My estimate is that she was under 4 feet tall.
Generally the locals, who are
still called Mayans, are short stocky people.
Later, as we sat in the dark on the roof terrace of our hotel drinking a
beer and enjoying the warmth of the evening air we listened to what were either
firecrackers or gunshots in the streets .
No sirens followed so it was probably firecrackers.
Why travel rather than look at photographs or watch
travelogues was H’s musing of the
evening. I thought it was the
unnoticed aromas, the sounds, the brush of the country’s breeze on my skin, the
reality of a proper surround experience, the lack of editing so it’s not all
perfect and of course no musical or spoken commentary. I
suppose I was just being a bit poetical but being here is so different and so
much more real. I rarely look at my
photographs once they’re made but if I do I can usually remember taking
them. I suppose it is all part of the
same reality. Dunno what that was all
about, must have something in that last coffee.
8 Feb we move out.
On to Lago de Atitlan in the Western Highlands, this time by minibus,
locally known as a shuttle. They’re
used by tourists and sit below private bus but above chicken bus, statuswise. It picks up at your hotel, bags go on the
roof, we were first on and H noticed on the drivers list that it was a full
load and suggested we grabbed the two seats next to the driver. A good move.
As always on these trips, every time someone else gets on, the average
age appears to drop. There are a few
travellers our age but we are definitely in a small minority. So two and a half hours for £8 ($12)
each. To begin with it’s miles of strip
development, lots of exhausts, minor welding, cars, tyres and then we break out
into hilly country with greens and browns everywhere but very little water to
show. We learn that derrumbe means
landslide or something similar when the road is missing in a number of
places. We inch along over the remains
of the landslips and then when we do see a river, the bridge is washed away and
we have to ford it. By the way a chicken
bus is apparently called that because it’s the one the locals get on with everything including chickens.
The driving back in Antigua was good, not fast, cars would
stop and let you cross the road.
Different rules apply outside and although we seem to have a competent
driver, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this, let’s just say he used the full
width of the road and wasn’t driving for economy. And
so we arrive safely in Panajachal on the shores of the stunningly beautiful
Lago de Atitlan. A quick bite to eat and
we grab a boat taxi for 20 minutes across the lake to our hotel which is
inaccessible by road.
The lake is surrounded by steeply wooded hills and volcanoes
and is about 1000 feet deep. All the
Mayan villages are high above the lake, perhaps 300 feet up but the Maya were
happy to sell prime lakeside land to the gringos, knowing full well that the
lake has periodic rises of level. We
were told it was every 50 years or
so. In the 18 months following
Hurricane Stan (what a ridiculous name for a hurricane) in 2010 the lake has
risen over 5 metres, inundating hotels and houses around the lake and washing
away the paths that used to run along the waterside. Our hotel, with rooms as a series of
thatched huts climbing the hillside and set amongst tropical trees and gardens,
each of which has fabulous views towards the rising dawn, has its problems from
the rising water. The reception and
restaurant has an elevated front because
the hill is quite steep and it used to have a 70 feet garden between it and the
lake. That’s gone and the water now laps
around the supports for the front of the restaurant. The water is still rising. It is
a glorious setting and the hotel is bit new-agey with yoga classes, astrology
readings and the like but is run virtually offgrid using solar panels and water
purification. We like it a great
deal and
spend two days here but feel the need to move on and do something.
We decide to go chicken bus style but things don’t go quite
to plan
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