Sunday 2 February 2014

"Thunder bolts and lightening, very, very frightening, me ..."

Today is Friday 24th of January 2014 and I can't stop feeling sad that my trip is almost over. In two days time I say Adios to my fellow travellers and head back up to Mexico to spend a few more days on the beach in Playa Del Carmen, before returning back home to London.

Don't get me wrong, I appreciate I am very lucky to have the time to chill out; TC is having to go straight back to work. It's just that firstly I am not looking forward to saying goodbye (not really good with them) and secondly I am 'quite upset' (again censorship prevents me from expressing myself properly) that when I originally booked this trip, I wasn't made aware of the fact that I could have tacked on another 4 weeks and travelled through the rest of Central America all the way down to Panama! I didn't find out until we were already in Mexico City and by that time it was too late for me to change my arrangements. 

I sat up in bed, feeling like a petulant teenager and quite prepared to throw a strop over 'How unfair it was that I was missing out on what my friends were doing!'  But the adult in me realised it was in fact pointless ruining the last few days of my holiday and I should just make the most of my time. And with that I got out of bed, (we managed to get a lie in til 7am!) and finished re packing my ruck sack (this had become a daily ritual), then discussed with TC as to whether or not she should take an immodium that day (another daily ritual), followed by her showing me all the mosquito bites she had received the night before and telling me how itchy they all were (yet another daily ritual). After which I popped over the road to pick up my bag of clean laundry for the last time on the trip, hurried down to the local shop to buy the highly recommended slice of home made banana cake to take as a breakfast snack, then joined the others on board the private mini bus (in Guatemala we travelled in style, no more Chicken buses!) and headed off to catch a boat to take us up the Rio Dulce to the Catamaran Island Hotel, where we were going to be staying for the night.

The Rio Dulce is a river that runs from the Lago de Izabal - the biggest lake in Guatemala - into the Caribbean Sea. And as we climbed onto our boat, as tended to be the case on this trip, the heavens opened up and it started to 'cheep cheep!'

So there we sat, speeding along this beautiful body of water; fleeces on, windbreakers done up to the max, hoods up, caps pulled down and thick black tarpaulins sheets wrapped round us to protect us from the wind and rain and river water attacking us from all sides. (TC announced she had an umbrella!)

We passed by the Castillo de San Felipe, the Spanish Colonnial fort built at the head of the Lake, to keep away the Caribbean pirates (think Johnny Depp) that used to sail up the Rio Dulce, basically causing mayhem and distress with the traders. It was eventually destroyed and rebuilt and has now been classed as a UNESCO World Heritage site.


We reached the hotel, clambered off the boat, dropped off our luggage, took a swift turn around, clambered back onto the boat, wrapped up again and set off on a two hour scenic route to Livingston. 

Gradually the rain started to ease and the sun began to burn through the clouds, as Heraldo our boat driver sailed us through the mangroves and Neil pointed out the wildlife living there. We saw Herons, Cormorants, Pelicans and Iguanas drying off on the branches. Some had even made a home in a battered boat destroyed by a hurricane many moons ago. Lily pads floated on the water, locals fished for crabs and shrimp ... All was peaceful.




Named after the American politician Edward Livingston, the tiny town of Livingston is found at the mouth of the Rio Dulce and unlike the rest of Guatemala, it's main population are The Garifuna (descendants of West Africa, Carib and Arawak people). 

We stepped off our boat into this tiny town and took in the laid back atmosphere as we climbed the steep streets to the restaurant booked for luncheon - we were all starving!

Neil had recommended the local spicy fish soup (Tapado), which was made from prawns, crab and ... a fish?! My religious background dictates that we are only allowed to eat fish that have fins and scales, basically nothing shell like! But this was a holiday of 'firsts' for me, plus my feelings about religion, over this last year in particular, are generally quite negative. You could kinda say that me and 'him upstairs',  if there is a 'Him upstairs', are no longer on speaking terms and so kind of as an act of defiance I decided to give it a go. 

We sat down for our meal and I nervously mumbled 'Er, I have never eaten crab before can someone show me what to do?' A couple of people looked at me with surprise and I started to think that this may be a slightly more embarassing experience than the whole 'first time snorkelling' one. Plus there was a slim possibility that I may get struck down by lightening for breaking one of the sacred laws of the religion I had been born into. And that could be slightly awkward. (Jewish guilt and Catholic guilt; "pretty much on par with each other", according to my half Italian, Lapsed-Catholic housemate. She says it never goes away, it stays with you for life no matter what! - holy shit!) 

The bowl of soup was placed in front of me. 

Suddenly I could hear 'Oh Fortuna' from Carmina Burana  http://youtu.be/EJC-_j3SnXk  playing all around me (or maybe that was just the side effects of the anti malaria tablets I was taking?) Either way I nervously looked down at the soup and started to shake ... It wasn't the half a crab staring up at me from the coconut based potion, nor was it the smattering of pink prawns floating around in the Bouillon, it was the, the, the ... My stomach started to churn, the wretching was on its way and I turned to our ever helpful tour leader sat next to me: "Neil, please may I ask you a favour? Please could you possibly get rid of the ..." TC glanced over at me and saw the pleading look in my eyes, she knew what was causing me such distress; she had been through this with me before, in India and it was not a pretty sight. She lept to my rescue. "Neil!" She quickly called out. "Neil, you have to remove the head and tail from the fish! Quickly! She can't look at it! It makes her go funny".

Neil quickly pulled my bowl away and cut off the offending body parts. I smiled and thanked him profusely as the bowl was returned to me, then suddenly took a sharp intake of breath. "No!" TC added as she saw me staring at the spare plate in the centre of the table with everyone's discarded bits of food on. "It needs to be out of her line of vision! Quick move it out of the way!" I raised my hand to cover my eyes as the plate was quickly removed from the table and I was able to relax and attempt to enjoy my lunch.

I tried the crab and to be honest, I wasn't that impressed, seemed like a lot of mess for a small amount of meat, that didn't have much flavour anyway. As for the rest of it, well the 'undressed' fish was succulent, the prawns tasty and the soup delicious, especially with the local coconut bread dipped in it. And to my relief, I didn't get struck by lightening!

The boat ride back to the hotel was a dry one and once there, we relaxed by the pool bar catching up on Face Book and the like before dinner, after which a few of us returned to the bar where Damien shared his bottled of rum, smuggled in from town and we all got involved in an intellectual discussion about the music of Robbie Williams and Ollie Murs!

Meanwhile I continued to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach; tomorrow was going to be my last full day with the group. We were going to be going to Antigua, once the capital of Guatemala until it was moved to Guatemala City in 1776. And little did I know my last night was going to result in another 'first' for me. One that would involve a few too many drinks, a crowded pub, a bar top, Rhianna and a little bit of head banging ....










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