Up, up and a-lake

Xela is considered to be something of a quiet city – there aren’t many museums, galleries or major cultural events. What attracts people to Xela are the many satellite villages and activities within a couple of hours.

Last weekend I had my first foray with the outdoors when my school arranged an excursion to see Laguna Chicabal – a deeply sacred Mayan site.

The Lagoon is located in the crater of Volcán Chicabal, at about 2,712m above sea level. It is considered the centre of the “cosmovision” for the Mam people – a group of Native American people who live around Xela. The lake is closed for a month around April/May each year to allow the Mayan people to worship “Jueves de la Ascension” undisturbed. The rest of the year, tourists are free to visit the lake, although swimming in the lake remains banned all year around.

We left Xela at 6am, and caught a couple of shuttle buses to San Martín Sacatepéquez, the town at the base of the volcano. From there, it’s about a 5km walk up to the laguna.

San Martín Sacatepéquez

A chicken wandering around dud potatoes

Oh I’m sorry, did I say “walk”? 

Not a path we walked on

It’s a hike.

An actual path we walked on

Up.

Oh hi, cloudline. I'm just going to walk through you for a while. 

Like, UP-up.

This photo does not do justice to how steep the "up" was. 

And, to add to the lung-busting fun, it started raining about halfway up.

Because you know what these dirt-covered rocks needed?
Water.

Fucking fabulous.

I call this "the exact moment I vowed to never leave home without my raincoat again"

But finally, with my heart beating in my ears, we reached the summit. The sacred lake. 

And...

...

....

.....

.......

The majestic Laguna Chicabal

Yep. Fogged out.

My emotions.
Literally, I was so exhausted, this was the only gesture I had enough energy to muster. 

Luckily, after about 10 minutes at the top, we had a brief break in the clouds and then we actually saw the lake.

*heavens part and angels sing*

And then we got to take a closer look at the lake. Which to the screaming joy of my quads meant about 600 of the dodgiest, muddiest, most uneven wooden steps down you have ever seen. Crazy fun.

Again, this photo does not do the slope justice. It was *steep*

Down at the lake-side, we got another brief reprieve from the fog, and got a few snippets of lake, which was prettttttty beautiful. 

The sign reminding everyone that not to swim in the sacred lake. With "with clothes" added in pen.

Goodness gracious, tourists, you are such a classy bunch. 

We were there while a few groups of people were worshipping, which was interesting, because with my broken Spanish, it seemed like there were equal numbers of christian worshippers and mayan worshippers (who speak a different, Mayan language). 

We went for a (mercifully flat) stroll around the lake, and watched as waves of fog rolled in and out over the lake - it was fairly amazing, and it made me forgive the mountain for the horrendous trek to get there. 

It seems that while swimming is banned, fishing is not. 

Mirror!

This dog feels about the same way about the rain as I do. 

Some more groups of worshippers

A new wave of fog

The same sign (No Nadar [con ropa]), at the end of our walk when the lake was once again engulfed by fog.

And so, it was time to go back down the mountain.

Now, normally, I'm all about the easy options. Cook > Clean. Down > Up.

Except when the "up" was dirt/mud covered rocks on incredibly steep slopes. Then I started to realise that the fun part of my adventure was about to begin. Let the 5km-long slip-and-slide commence.

Needs more mud. 

But the walk/slide/mudbath down wasn't a complete bust, because I discovered an entirely new brand of communal insanity.

Incredibly steep and muddy UPHILL mountain biking.
  

At first, we only saw this guy, pedalling desperately up the hill, as his tyres barely gained traction in the mud.  

Happy campers two and three.

AND THEN THERE WERE MORE.

Actually about 100 in total.

All walking/running/pushing/pedalling their bikes up the dangerously rocky and slippery slope that I could barely walk up with only a backpack.  

So much mud

So as we were stumbling/sliding down the mountains, these two blokes overtook us.
RUNNING.
With hoes.

While I was walking down the mountain looking like a hybrid of toddler and a drunken velociraptor (my arms perched at roughly 90 degrees). 

Again. You just don't understand how steep this was. 

Corn in the fog