Antigua, November 20, 2006

View of Antigua from the Cerro de la Cruz, the large cross on the hillside to the north
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Despite liking the room at Hotel Posada San Pedro II so much, I hadn’t slept well. I’d been delighted to have windows that would open to let in the night breeze. And the shutters gave me privacy. Unfortunately, the wind whipped up during the night, quite cold, and rattled the shutters. I finally got up and shut everything tightly. A huge cockroach scurried across the bathroom floor. I left the light on in the bathroom to discourage it, plugged up the drain as best I could, shut the door to the bathroom to keep out the light, and tried to go back to sleep. Then, from about 1am to 3am, there were loud voices and people going up and down the stairs near my room.  The heavy chain on the front gate jangled...jangled...jangled. After I got dressed and prepared for the morning I asked the desk clerk what had happened last night, imagining some emergency. Why, nothing, I was told…just some guests leaving to catch a bus or plane.

The courtyard of Las Capuchinas Convent, where I saw the bride and groom being photographed
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Out in the still dim streets I went in search of breakfast. Most shops were still closed, but I finally found an open bakery. I bought a couple of pastries and went in search of something to drink. Milk would have been great, but I settled for some hot chocolate from a café near the plaza. I sat on a bench to eat my breakfast and gazed longingly at the huge cross on the hill to the north, surrounded by green. That was where I wanted to go birding, but how could I get there? There were lots of inexpensive, little tuk-tuks that would probably take me there, but how would I get back? Neither taxi drivers nor tuk-tuk drivers wanted to wait there for me. When I finally found one who said he would wait, the price was very high. Besides, I would still feel uncomfortably hurried, knowing someone was waiting for me and probably bored. Also, since the driver wasn’t a birder, he would probably be moving around and scaring away the birds. At last I decided to just hire a tuk-tuk and make further decisions once I arrived at the Cerro de la Cruz. If it didn’t look safe once I got there, I would simply return with the driver right away.

Inside the ruins of Las Capuchinas Convent
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Once we arrived at the site, I was enthralled by its beauty and peace. No one else was around, although we’d passed a few people farther down the hill, in what looked like a park. The trip up was a longer way than I had thought, since the road had a lot of cutbacks to allow vehicle traffic to ascend the steep hillside. I walked over to the cross and peered straight down the hill. Surely there was a way down the face of the hill. I told the tuk-tuk driver he could leave. I felt confident that either tourists or police would visit the site sometime during the day. If not, I would find a way down the hillside.

Some of the arched doorways to the tiny cells where nuns once lived
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As soon as the driver left, I found a quiet and secluded spot beneath a forest of pines and set up my chair. The fragrant odor of pine needles surrounded me. I heard bird sounds everywhere, and soon they began feeding and flying near me. There was a flock of small birds that looked somewhat like the chickadees we have in Ohio, but I couldn’t find them in my Mexican bird guide. I wrote a careful description on my checklist for later research. I also saw my only Black-capped Siskin of the trip. My concentration was interrupted by the sound of a car engine approaching, and I walked out of the trees to see who it was.

Antigua's La Merced (definitely!)
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The tourist police had arrived. They were surprised to find me there alone. They urged me to return to the city with them. I was torn. I didn’t really want to leave yet, but if no one else arrived later (as the tourist police assured me they might not) I wasn’t sure I wanted to brave the steep hill. Finally I agreed to return with them. After the early morning hours the birds usually quieted down anyway. I might as well tour the city and perhaps return later in the afternoon or tomorrow morning.

Fuente de Pescados, the tiered fountain of La Merced, viewed from the rooftops
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My younger son is intrigued by ornate churches and cathedrals, and by ruins. Both were combined in Las Capuchinas Convent, according to my guidebook. I paid the fee (about $4) and began my unguided walking tour, hoping to take some photos he might enjoy. The stone walls were cracked and crumbling from earthquakes, and huge pillars were broken in pieces, lying where they had fallen. The main worship area with the altar stood immense and cold—no candles or prayers here to warm the heart. Climbing the wide stone stairs, I left the dark interior for a balcony overlooking a sunny courtyard with a fountain. A bride and her soon-to-be husband were being photographed in their wedding finery. She was beautiful and he beamed as he gazed at her. I considered taking a photo but felt I would be intruding upon their privacy, so I just took a picture of the courtyard. The nuns who had lived at the convent long ago had been assigned to tiny cells. There were 18 of them in a circle. Each had scarcely enough room for a small cot and a writing desk. Several cubbyholes in the stone walls were probably used to keep Bibles, toiletries, etc. A recessed space in each tiny cell held a toilet (not like the ones we are used to). Outside and on the floor below, one could look up and see the grating from the toilet area. The guidebook referred to the rooms as “each having its own independent sewage system.” At least each of the tiny cells had a window, some overlooking the beautiful gardens.

Beautiful view from the rooftops of La Merced, Antigua
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My legs were tired from walking. I had noticed a lot of small motorcycles and mopeds being driving up and down the streets, often by women. Why not rent one for myself? It took a lot of walking and following wrong directions before I finally found the Ceiba Rent. I’d hoped for a very small moped, but all they had were small motorcycles. The owner was willing to let me rent one, even though I told him I’d never driven a motorcycle. The rate was reasonable, too, only about $10-15 for the first hour and $3-4 per hour thereafter. I straddled the bike and he began explaining the operation. Then I chickened out. Maybe it was the cobblestone streets. Maybe it was the heavy traffic. Maybe it was good sense. I thanked the man and hired a tuk-tuk to the open market, deciding it was time to buy some gifts for the people back home.

Another beautiful view (opposite direction) from the rooftops of La Merced, Antigua
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At the side of the open market was an area for “artisans.” There were hundreds of little booths where native handmade goods were sold. The famous, beautifully woven fabrics were sold as cloth. They had also been made into clothing, wall hangings, scarves, children’s caps, etc. Bits of the fabric were worked into leather pen holders, tiny refrigerator magnets, pot holders, bottle carriers, and other bric-a-brac. I bought everything I wanted from one woman whose prices were quite reasonable when first quoted. I didn’t try to bargain her down. We had a pleasant, if short, conversation.

I’d worked up an appetite from my morning’s adventures. It was time to sit down in a fine restaurant and have a good meal, I decided. Something I rarely did. It didn’t take long to find a likely choice. A board outside advertised soup, bread, steak, salad, potatoes and vegetable for a fraction of what it would cost back home. The food was delicious and the ambience inviting. No loud music was playing. I could only eat about half of what I was served, so I asked for something in which to carry the rest with me. I knew what I was going to do with it. Back I went to the Artisan market and found the woman who had sold me the handcrafted items. I’d planned to buy more, and did so. Then I told her I’d eaten a delicious meal but couldn’t finish it. Would she like it? She was quite grateful for the meal.

Now what? I’d decided against a late afternoon trip up the hillside to the cross. Maybe I’d do that early the next morning. I hadn’t passed under Antigua’s famous yellow arch, but it was quite a walk. While I was looking for a tuk-tuk, I noticed a horse-drawn carriage waiting across the street. Why not? The driver took me right where I asked him for a couple of dollars. At home a ride in a horse-drawn carriage would probably have cost $25.

Near the arch is La Merced, a beautifully restored church painted a mustard yellow. The entrance fee was only five quetzals, less than a dollar. Some of the rooms inside were being used by groups of students practicing musical instruments. I climbed to the second floor, where I was able to walk about on the rooftops that surrounded a large courtyard with a tiered fountain known as the Fuente de Pescados. The view from the rooftops was amazing. It was nearing sunset.

Very tired, I took a tuk-tuk back to my hotel. Before entering, though, I visited an Internet café down the street and emailed my family, telling them I would not be able to pre-board over the Internet for my flight back (as I had been able to on the way down) but that my schedule had not been changed. I’d found the Internet café last evening and had emailed them then, too, expressing my desire to return home and asking that they be ready to pamper me! Next I stopped into a nearby travel agency and reserved a seat for $8 on a minivan going to the airport in Guatemala City the following day at 11am. That would still give me most of the morning to return to the hillside cross. I went to my room and packed what I could. I made another pile of things to give away. Then I showered and went to bed.