Flores and El Remate, November 8, 2006

I woke up an hour or more before dawn. I switched on the tiny book light I’d brought and scanned the floor before I stepped out of bed. No bugs. Good!

Last evening when I’d arrived at the airport, I found the INGUAT booth and asked if they would call a couple of hotels I’d checked in my guidebook as promising, to see if they had space and to confirm the price. Again, the girl at the desk spoke no English, and she didn’t have the numbers of the hotels I suggested; but she did mention a Casa Azul, which sounded familiar. I thought I’d remembered reading a good review of it somewhere, and it was close to the other two hotels I’d had in mind. She called, they had a room with private bath for $26 (including tax), and I found a taxi to take me there at a reasonable price, so off I went.

The hotel was at the far side of the island from the causeway. I’d thought it might be quieter there. The cobblestone streets were narrow, and all the buildings were close together and run down. Tired and hungry, I was less than charmed by my first impression of Flores. I asked to see the room while the taxi driver waited with my bags in the lobby. It wasn’t bad! There were two double beds in a pretty large room with an adjoining private bathroom. Everything seemed clean, if dim. The lights must all have held 20-watt bulbs. I paid for one night with a credit card, paid the taxi driver, and he helped me carry my bags upstairs to the room. Looking around a bit more, I noticed a T.V. inside a compartment near the ceiling and a remote nearby. Surprise! There was also a door at the back of my room leading to a porch overlooking Lake Peten Itza. Nice! Now to find something to eat.

The lady at the front desk said there was a restaurant two doors down, so out I went. The restaurant had tables under thatched roofs down by the lake, as well as indoor seating. I just order a hamburger with ketchup only, to go (para llevar). It took quite a while, so I strolled around (few people inside) and peeked into the kitchen. Quite shocking! No health inspectors around here, it seemed. And this was supposedly a nice restaurant! My hamburger came, surrounded with fries I didn’t order, and topped with lettuce and tomato, which I’d specifically told them to leave off. I put my health in God’s hands, paid for the food and a bottle of Pepsi without comment, and returned to my hotel, where I consumed everything with gusto. The hotel had Internet, so I was able to email my family to let them know I’d arrived safely. Then I took a shower, found one channel on the T.V. that spoke English, and relaxed. Thoughts of the day whirled through my mind. I was asleep soon after.

Since I awoke so early the next morning, I was able to read my English/Spanish Bible, have a light snack (I’d packed some), and organize my things for a morning’s birding around Flores. I stepped onto the porch overlooking the lake at dawn’s first light, and it was a beautiful view, indeed. The photo I took shows a line stretching across the view--a high-voltage electrical line just one foot in front of the porch. Careful where you reach! A walk to the side of the porch revealed a view much less scenic.

By the time it was fully light, I was on my way to the Parque Central. I made it a half-block before a light rain sent me back to the hotel for an umbrella. By now the cobblestones were quite slippery from the rain, and the tiny sidewalks (where there were any) weren’t much better. The route from the hotel to the park was a steep, uphill walk. I made it there with much effort.

Once at the park, the rain soon stopped and the sun came out. This small, treed park was a haven for birds on the stony island. They were active in the early morning and I had a delightful several hours. Few of the birds were ones I’d seen before, and I was kept busy identifying them all in my field guides. Getting hungry, I noticed a street vendor surrounded by customers. Having eaten the forbidden greens without consequences, I was feeling brave. I edged up to the vendor and watched for a while as others chose from four or five different dishes. I decided on two. I just held out my hand with some bills and change and let the vendor take whatever she wanted. The food was very cheap. It was also very delicious.

The bird life quieted down after that, so I hired a tuk-tuk (renovated golf cart?), for about a dollar, to take me to a farmacia (pharmacy) I’d seen earlier. There I was able to buy Aralen (chloroquine) for protection against malaria. Eight tablets cost twenty quetzals (about three dollars). It was only about a block from there to the hotel, so I walked slowly and took in the sights.

Suddenly my left leg went through a hole in the sidewalk up to my knee, breaking some pipes and drenching me with water (I hoped it was water). There was no one to help and no one to blame, so I pulled my leg out of the hole (the same leg that was just healing from the table tennis mishap) and limped back to the hotel, dripping wet and with one shoe soaked. The lady at the front desk told me she would dry my clothes, and I dried my shoe with the hairdryer I’d brought for just that purpose (and so glad I did). Later, I took a photo of one of the many square sections cut into the sidewalks with iron circles attached for lifting them up to get to the pipes below. I was told that children had probably removed the cover of the hole into which I’d fallen, as a prank.

I was ready to leave Flores for El Remate, where I had reservations for the next four days. I asked the lady at the front desk to call the taxi driver who had brought me to the hotel. He’d given me his card and told me he could take me to El Remate for about $5. As it turned out, that was for a morning trip in a collectivo (minivan) with others. Alone, he would charge me $25. An owner of the hotel overheard the conversation and told me $25 was too much to pay. He knew a taxi driver that would take me to El Remate for 90 quetzals (about $12) and could pick me up in 15 minutes. That suited me.

The taxi wasn’t really a taxi. I think the driver was just a friend of the owner’s, but he was nice and polite. We rode with the windows down all the way. I thought maybe the air conditioning was broken, although it was a fairly new car. I was not unhappy to leave Flores.

When we pulled up in front of La Casa De Don David (literally, The House of Mr. David), the hotel where I had reservations for the next four days, I breathed a sign of relief. It wasn’t run down at all. Really, it was beautiful, especially if one compared it to everything else in sight. The driver carried my bags into the lobby while I fished out the agreed-upon fare. After he left, I looked around the lobby, which was also very attractive. El Remate is a woodcarving village, and Don David displayed a wide assortment of hand-carved pieces. I avoided looking at the idols and concentrated on the beautiful bowls and canoes, complete with paddles. Everything was for sale, and the prices were reasonable. I’m not one to collect knick-knacks, though. My husband calls them dustables.

Don David’s website played a major role in my deciding to visit Guatemala. I’d first found it a couple of years ago and had emailed him with questions. He personally replied, in English, and we communicated for some time. I had some ailment, which I’ve since forgotten, that prevented my trip at that time; but this year I’d again contacted him with questions. It comforted me to know that there would be someone nearby I could talk to in my native tongue if I got sick or injured or just needed someone to listen. Don David’s website is very, very thorough; it covers about anything you’d care to know. I’d reserved their very best room, which was $33, including tax and the $7 single supplement, and came with one meal a day, breakfast or dinner.

The electricity was off when I arrived, so the girl at the front desk said she would take my credit card information later. She gave me a key and had someone help me to my room with my luggage. It was on the end of the building farthest away from the lobby and restaurant. I’d thought it might be quieter there, away from the street. The room had two nice double beds with hand-woven coverlets, a table and chair, and an air conditioner built high up on one wall. The private bathroom had four clothes hooks on the door, a small sink and a shower. That was it. No phone or T.V., of course. But also no dresser, chest, clothes rack, or other furniture. Different! (Well, not very different from the hotel room in Flores.)

It was even hotter in El Remate than in Flores, and there was no air conditioning since the electricity wasn’t working (for about an hour, they said). I got my binoculars and field guides and strolled around the hotel grounds, which were completely fenced in. The grounds were perfectly manicured. There were many different kinds of fruit trees and most of them were labeled. There were huge trees filled with birds I could hear but not often see. There was a thatched, open-sided area for hammocks (provided). Some of the taller bushes had been clipped to resemble toucans. It reminded me of Disney World in Florida. There was an open-air restaurant on the second floor (street level) next to the lobby. I spotted a couple of hummingbird feeders hanging from the eaves.

I was soon seated at the table closest to the feeders with my binoculars on the ready. While I waited for my late lunch of bean soup and bread, I watched a variety of hummers come and go. Some were huge, some had red bills, and one had a long white tail. What a delight! The soup was delicious, although nothing like what I had expected. The beans had been pureed and were served with a dollop of an unusual sour cream in the middle. I’d expected some crusty, homemade bread. What I was served was a slice of plain, white bread. When I asked for butter, they brought me a small pat of something that was much better than any butter I’d ever had. Or maybe I was just really hungry.

After a long lunch, and taking my first chloroquine tablet on a full stomach, I returned to my room to unpack and cool down, only to find that there was still no electricity. I returned to the lobby to ask why. The girl said this was not a normal occurrence—that something had broken and was being repaired. All of the other rooms were connected to a generator that provided electricity if the main source was down. Only mine (the “best” room), it seems, was not. I told the girl that I was not going to unpack for a while, and that I wanted to change rooms if I didn’t have electricity soon. All of these discussions, by the way, were in Spanish. Although the girl could speak broken English, she preferred that I speak in Spanish; so I did my best. I was looking forward to meeting Don David and his wife and daughter.

Since I couldn’t unpack, I decided to borrow one of the hotel bicycles (free for guests) and ride the mile or so to Cerro Cahui, where I planned to spend the following day birding. I took my binoculars and guides, but no water, pack, or birding chair. It was strange to see horses feeding alongside the road, or crossing it, as well as pigs, chickens, and geese. The horses all looked underfed, their ribs plainly showing. Local women walked along carrying huge loads on their heads, or large bowls in their arms stacked so high with corn that I wondered how they didn’t spill. I said “Hola,” or “Buenos Dias” to everyone I passed and they all smiled and returned my greeting. The road to the nature preserve was flat and paved most of the way, and the breeze from biking was a relief from the heat. It surely beat walking.

On my ride back to the hotel I wanted to get a closer look at some birds I saw out near the Lake, so I propped the bike against a tree—still sitting on it. The sandy dirt gave way beneath the tires and the bike fell over with me under it. It scraped the skin off my right shin and it was covered with blood. Two falls in two days! I wasn’t doing well. At least nothing was broken or sprained, so I climbed on again and rode back to the hotel.

The electricity was back on when I returned to my room. Hooray! I unpacked and used the table and extra bed as my dresser. Then I was off for another walk around the hotel grounds, where I met a newly married couple from Pennsylvania. They were joining a volunteer group the following day and would be leaving the hotel, but that evening we spent an enjoyable couple of hours over dinner (again, quite delicious). They had taken a horseback ride with a guide that day, something I’d been interested in doing. They had enjoyed the guide’s explanation of medicinal plants found along the way, but they said the horses were the same kind I had seen on my bike ride. I didn’t think I would have the heart to ride a horse that looked so pitiful, so I decided to delay horseback riding for later in my trip. I showered and went to bed soon after dinner, wanting to get up before dawn for a full day of birding.