Travel is more than seeing of the sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living. – Miriam Beard
Saturday, March 17, 2012 (DAY 13)
The morning decision to walk the seven blocks to the bus depot begins as a positive one, until, we reach the top of the first hill only to see it swoop downward with an extending uphill climb that is sure to cause a burn in our legs and add invisible weight to our backpacks. Practically running to the corner of 3a Calle and 3a Ave in fear of missing the bus, since we were told by the receptionist at the hostel that it leaves at 11am, which is in less than ten minutes, we arrive in plenty of time to sit around for another forty-five minutes. Guatemalan time strikes again.
The morning decision to walk the seven blocks to the bus depot begins as a positive one, until, we reach the top of the first hill only to see it swoop downward with an extending uphill climb that is sure to cause a burn in our legs and add invisible weight to our backpacks. Practically running to the corner of 3a Calle and 3a Ave in fear of missing the bus, since we were told by the receptionist at the hostel that it leaves at 11am, which is in less than ten minutes, we arrive in plenty of time to sit around for another forty-five minutes. Guatemalan time strikes again.
Five hours later, with the last hour consisting of driving on a single lane road that is extremely rocky and slow-moving, we arrive at the breathtaking, El Retiro Lodge. Surrounded by towering jungle hills that cascade to the canyon floor below, small tiki huts are scattered along the hillside that lead down to the emerald river with a fast current, perfectly placed stones create stairs and paths as large green plants with fiery bright red flowers grace the landscape, and all we can do is stand in awe of the beauty. The fourteen-person dorm is at the far end of the property, fifty yards from the river, with bunk beds that sit in a perfect circle surrounding the center support column that in planted deeply in the stone floor. Three beautiful girls are just to the left of the doorway as we enter, changing clothes they are not startled by our sudden presence, and yet again, I am reminded of the lack of privacy that becomes an acceptable form in the living conditions you adopt. The two blondes have height differences that cannot be mistaken, Jess, is tall and thin with legs to match, while Kristine is more my height and has a warm smile with soft eyes. Sarah is the odd girl out, being the only brunette, she is the first to make conversation, and incredibly cute with a very outgoing personality and great sense of humor. Since we are relatively tardy in our arrival, we are all stuck with top bunks, each above one of the British girls, not a bad place to be. As we begin to unpack, the girls remind us that it’s St. Patrick’s Day and to put on some green before they hurriedly leave to make the three-minute walk to the outdoor restaurant.
Tim and I, rather frantically, tear through our bags for a green piece of clothing before impatiently waiting on Char to join us. The atmosphere is electric, bustling with enthusiastic conversations throughout the open-air tables. Entering the large outdoor dining space, I recognize a couple I had helped out in Flores. Dom and Jorgie, a young Australian couple that was attempting to order food from the street vendors on the waterfront, they stood frozen with confused and almost terrified faces trying to figure out how to order. I approached them and told them what they were selling, the prices, and that they just had to jump in there among the other locals and begin shouting what they wanted until they were handed a napkin with some food on it. Walking away with a sense of pride as if I were a local myself, I was only given this information the night before from Luis, and could not take any credit for my newfound knowledge of the local customs. Sitting across from Dom, he has the travelers constant five o’clock shadow across his face with short wavy hair and a laugh that is boisterous and echoing. Jorgie, is also blonde with medium length hair, rich blue eyes, and an excitable personality that just makes you smile as you listen to her speak.
Char, who is sitting to my right across from Jorgie, begins their own conversation leaving Dom and I to discuss the global economic instability of the southern colonies in the, yeah, not quite. No, we continue with the typical conversation of where each was going, had been, and when the dreadful countdown of returning to structured life is set to take place. As the conversation moves away from introductions to more personal topics, Sarah sits down in the empty chair to my left while Jess and Kristine follow claiming the chairs next to Dom and Sarah. Soon voices grow louder, carrying them the distance of our growing table of occupants, and I have a feeling that tonight is going to be a good night. Tim, absent from the beginning of the mayhem, had to run back to the dorm to grab his camera, but soon finds our jovial table that spans three world continents, and inserts himself into the conversation with quick ease.
Before we know it, the dinner bell is being rung and despite the starving crowd it still took several seconds for voices to finish their mid-sentence words among the gongs. A buffet feast of Mexican cuisine is on menu for tonight and the drooling begins before we can line up. Two bites in, and the three of us agree that this is by far our best meal we have tasted thus far. Eating to the point of overindulgence, the conversations continue as the Irish music begins, and quickly the food trays became extinct from the bar to make space for the ever so popular green beer. In no time, the empty space between the tables and the bar erupts in to a massive dance party full of smiles and laughter. I was wrong, tonight was not a good night it was a great night.
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