Travelogue: San Pedro, Guatemala to Antigua, Guatemala

San Pedro La Laguna, situated on the shore of Lake Atitlan and at the foot of a now-dormant volcano, looked charming as we approached the dock in our water taxi. Closer inspection revealed a disturbing reality.

The town is a hippie backpacker mecca, with dozens of cheap hotels, funky restaurants, expat bars, and a surprisingly well-developed spanish-lesson industry. Everyone doing the Central America route says to go there, that it's a great place to chill. Unfortunately, the profusion of travelers has led to a profusion of little businesses (restaurants and hotels) and a profusion of drunk young men who solicit your patronage with mind-blowing persistence. Add to that the violence: three days prior a local man was shot in the head three times on the main street in a drug-related killing (we saw the blood and bullet holes), and one year earlier a young Czech woman was raped and beaten to a pulp by a group of local thugs. Despite the infrequent and isolated nature of the violence, I myself could not reconcile the town's placid reputation with such mindless brutality.

Many of the town's expat residents have lived there for several years and love the place. Some own bars or restaurants, some just come for a few months out of each year to chill. My impression was that they do a lot of drugs and generally try to avoid reality. Two told me the identity of the criminals is widely known, but nothing has been done, and had a "what can you do?" attitude about it.

The street harassment, the drug-running families, the drug-using expats, surprisingly expensive food, and a general unease led us to leave less than 24 hours after arriving, to near-universal exclamations of "already?!"

Guatemalan local buses are known as "chicken buses" because people can and will board with animals. They are old Blue Bird school buses, colorfully painted, adorned with crucifixes, and christened with names such as Melissa, Gonzalez, and Santa Rita. We took three of them--total time of around 4 hours, cost of $5.50--to get to the town of Antigua. Vendors board during the frequent stops to sell food, drinks, and light-up pens, while others of various maladies and ill-fortunes make flowery pleas for charity. A young boy hangs out the door, pulling the ear-splitting horn and screaming out the bus's destination in an effort to fill the bus. When passengers have large bags he jumps on top, ties them down, and climbs back in through the back door, all while the bus is moving. Everyone stared in awe at the pale-skinned travelers with the fancy bags, but for every scowl there were 5 or 6 smiles, and we got off each bus having made a few quick friends.

We arrived in Antigua and began preparations for a trip up the Pacaya volcano.