The chicken bus thunders across the ancient cobblestones competing with horse drawn carriages whose cargo holds photo snapping tourists. The Santa Catalina arch welcomes all and the volcanic sisters of Auga, Acatenango, Fuego and Pacaya ring the city. For 5 days Antigua has been our home; a rest stop on our sojourn. Our abode, the Hotel Posada San Pedro (The West Wing) has been an oasis as we have been the ONLY guests in the entire facility. So in reality we have had a maid, a butler and a doorman and the whole of the top floor to ourselves.
We have wondered the cobblestone streets, descended in to catacombs where the illumination of skeletal remains glowed, we have listened to Christmas carols played on pan pipes and have seen the many beggars strategically placed outside McDonald's with their rotting limbs mingling with the aroma of Big Macs. The sound of Salsa music has lured us an and the rhythm has taken hold and Salsa lessons bear fruit. Margaritas still dance upon our taste buds and fine dining has still been difficult to find. (Frida's has become our local and we were attracted by the monobrow.) Markets tempt us but their call is dwindling after 2 months of travel across 7 countries. We have seen a real life gnome, an albino and sewerage swiming plumbers. Colourful artichecture catches the eye and a volcano spews forth its magna.
It is this volcano, Pacaya that we hike. Evidence of its last major eruption (41 Klms of lava in 2010) covers the landscape. Vapour rises from its pores and a pallatable sulfur taste is present. The heat radiates through our shoes and we stop to toast marshmallows in the mouth of the rumbling giant. As we watch the sunset from our vantage point, excited and animated we see Pacaya's pyrotechnics light up the sky.
An erupting volcano, what else could we ask for.
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