Guatemala: I. Xela/Quetzaltenango

Ah … Guatemala. Of all the Central American countries this was the one I most looked forward to visiting. My notions of it before arrival were that it’s increasingly popular but not yet overly touristed, highly adventurous but accessible, and generally full of culture waiting to be experienced. After spending 25 days here I can say that it was all of this, and so much more. In a nutshell, I don’t think I’ve ever been more exhausted on a trip.

For an overview of my Guatemala itinerary I crossed the border from El Salvador via a shuttle and stayed two nights in the beautiful town of Antigua before taking the chicken buses to the far western city of Xela/Quetzaltenango (which I’ll discuss in this post). From there I planned to slowly work my way backwards across the Guatemalan highlands through Lake Atitlan and back to Antigua, before eventually heading north towards the popular sights of Semuc Champey and Tikal.

Regarding the chicken buses, I spoke of them briefly in my El Salvador post – but they are a completely different beast in Guatemala. For those who aren’t familiar, chicken buses are old American school buses that are “transformed” (i.e. painted & decorated) and used as public buses. In El Salvador it was more-so the norm for tourists to use chicken buses, but in Guatemala tourists are encouraged to use shuttles.

There’s a number of reasons for this. In Guatemala the buses are filled well beyond capacity, and they try to force everyone to sit. On at least two occasions I wound up “sitting” in the gap between seats (as every seat was filled with three, or sometimes four people). In El Salvador you pay the driver as you enter, but in Guatemala an assistant goes around periodically to collect the fare – this person ends up climbing over everyone in the process. It’s highly impractical … and also impressive.

All this said, it should be no surprise that the buses in Guatemala don’t have a safe reputation. Furthermore tourists are urged to avoid taking the buses into or out of the capital Guatemala City, due to the possibility of bus muggings. Place this on top of the fact that drivers speed wherever they can, racing around Guatemala’s infamous zig-zagged roads – and you have all the makings for a wild transportation experience.

Me being the penny-pincher that I am, I preferred to use the chicken buses in Guatemala because in the end they were far cheaper than the tourist shuttles. With that said, I avoided going to the capital and didn’t attempt to take the buses north (where even a shuttle journey can be 8-9 hours long). I didn’t encounter any trouble, but the buses were very uncomfortable nonetheless.

Xela’s bus terminal was a sight to see. Imagine endless streams of multi-colored school buses passing along a busy street market, all vying for space to pick up and drop passengers. I joked that these buses appeared like they had all gone through an Emo phase. From there I happened upon a bakery called Xelapan. With hoards of filling and inexpensive baked goods I saved the place in my Google Maps to return later. (Soon enough I learned that Xelapan is a city-wide bakery chain, so I never had to go far for a filling pastry).

Part of why I enjoyed traveling in Guatemala was because every major stop had such a unique character, and Xela was no exception. The city is officially known as Quetzaltenango, but the locals call it Xela (it has something to do with the ethnic Mayan groups who originally settled here). Xela is at a relatively high elevation, so in the dry season days are warm while the nights are very chilly. The architecture around town is a perplexing mix of European styles. Casa Seibel was a unique hostel choice in that it was actually an old wooden cottage-style home with not one, but two courtyards.

I booked myself a whopping six nights in Xela. Considering this is one of the least touristed cities in Guatemala I surprisingly never ran out of things to do. On the afternoon of my arrival I hadn’t been in my hostel for 30 minutes when some other travelers invited me out to a chocolate making class. The woman who ran the class only spoke Spanish, and I followed as best I could while some of my new friends translated for the rest of us. Spanish classes are a very popular activity throughout Central America, and I was impressed at how seriously some travelers took them.

Christmas Eve was a really wonderful day in my trip. To start out I had breakfast at a touristy-looking restaurant called Patsy, where I was in awe of the walls that doubled as bookcases. Afterwards I walked to the city cemetery – here locals were out and about socializing and lighting things on fire near their family graves. I had never seen such a busy cemetery. At one point a man asked me what I was doing so far from home for the holidays – “don’t you miss your family?” he asked. I gestured my phone up to my ear – he laughed and kept walking. It got me thinking, this was the first Christmas I voluntarily spent away from home … But I’ve found that being abroad solo in a new place is a sure way to have a memorable time no matter the occasion.

Later that day I met up with a local through an app and he gave me a nice tour of the central park, explaining the architectural oddities. Perhaps most striking here is the cathedral facade, all that remains of the original Spanish-era cathedral following an earthquake in the last century. With the original facade intact, the city built a new cathedral just behind it and to the right, resulting in an interesting side-by-side perspective of differing architectural styles.

On the evening of Christmas Eve people at my hostel got together to have a pot-luck dinner. With all of us away from home and our associated holiday traditions it was really nice to get everyone together. There were simple meals representing the array of people staying there. As is often the case in hostels most people were from Europe, it was fun to listen to them sing songs in their native languages and share their Christmas customs. We even had a little bit of mulled wine to end the night.

Christmas day was comparatively quiet in Xela. I had bought some food and coffee the night before since I presumed things would be closed. I was told even the public buses wouldn’t run on this day. So with few options for activity I climbed into the villages just south of the city center and up to the Cerro Quemado volcano. Despite the proximity to the city most tourists head for the challenging and more well known Santa Maria volcano. The highlights of Cerro Quemado were the villages and pine forests along the way, plus the thermal vents with volcanic steam at many points near the peak.

On my third day in Xela I took a day trip with a couple people from my hostel to the Fuentes Georginas hot springs. These springs don’t get particularly hot, but it made for a nice activity squashed between what ended up being multiple intense day hikes. Returning to the hostel that afternoon a guy came to me asking if I wanted to join him on a tour the next morning to the Tajumulco Volcano (the tallest peak in Central America). I had originally wanted to hike the Santa Maria volcano, but I figured this would be my best (and possibly only) chance to visit Tajumulco.

Tajumulco was one of those hikes where the visuals will age well in my memory, but the journey was incredibly frustrating. I woke at 2:30 AM to get ready for a 3:00 pickup. My friend managed to get one other guy to join us, and we were all bothered when the van didn’t arrive until 3:30. From Xela it was almost 90 minutes of driving to the trailhead. Knowing how cold it would be I made sure to pack extra layers for the morning hours of our hike, however one of my friends didn’t come prepared and complained his way through the first hour or so of our ascent. The other guy had also experienced food poisoning overnight, which slowed him down immensely.

Although I felt bad for my hostel friends I was also intent on enjoying this experience for myself as much as I could. I often find group hiking tours to be difficult, because in the situation that people are sick or not acclimatized it can easily bring down your vibe – and at $55 (USD) this tour had brought me well over my daily budget. I would’ve loved to have sat up on the summit for an hour or so, but my group wasn’t eager for that and our guide probably just wanted to get home. Still, it was epic to see the entire range of highland volcanoes stretching all the way to Antigua.

Back at the hostel some of the other travelers asked us how our experience was with Tajumulco. Not many people make it to Xela, and even less actually do the Tajumulco hike – so I understood their curiosity. Regardless of my annoyance on the way up I still found the scenery to be really wonderful the whole time. (Some of my other friends at the hostel were amused to hear the “differing” opinions from amongst the three of us, but I knew that the other guys simply bit off more than they could chew on that day).

After a few days spent primarily outside of Xela I was excited to have one last day in the city before embarking on my three-day hiking tour to Lake Atitlan. Like I said earlier, there was so much more I felt I could’ve done in and around Xela … I easily could have filled 10 days here. Amongst the things I didn’t make it to were the Santa Maria volcano (which can be done without a tour), the Chicabal crater lake, and the largest market in Central America located in the city of Chichicastenango (a full-day trip).

I filled my last day in Xela with some relaxation, shopping, and street photography. Casa Seibel had an atmosphere that I truly loved. Xela might have been cold in the mornings, but the hostel beds were incredibly warm and I never wanted to get up. There too was something magical about the way the morning light shined into the old wooden rooms. Instead of going out I made it a habit of brewing coffee at the hostel just so I could enjoy the morning ambiance.

In the afternoon I visited a popular thrift store called Megapaca. So many backpackers had made incredible clothing finds here, mostly coats for the highlands. While I didn’t buy anything I found an interesting parallel in how unbelievably tight packed the racks of clothes were and how equally tight the chicken buses are filled. It was apparent that this is not the type of country where many things are neatly contained and organized, and it requires visitors to embrace the mayhem.

By far my favorite place in Xela was the central park (or “the square”). It was always a busy place filled with locals and tourists alike. At night there were dozens of food vendors set up, and given how close this city is to the Mexican border there were a bunch of satisfying taco stalls. I came to the square every night, and often made a little food tour of it. As a night cap I’d walk a few blocks away to the Municipal Theatre, where there was a popular food stall with a single item: fried dessert plantains sprinkled with creme and cinnamon.

Next post: Lake Atitlan