The Pacific Slope forms Guatemala’s entire Pacific hinterland as it runs from the volcanic highlands to the coast, we dropped 1.5 km in altitude over about 100kms. We got a shuttle to Montericco. Gill was well prepared with a thick fleece in case the aircon was a little cold. Perhaps a preparation too far – the shuttle didn’t have many springs, let alone aircon…. But our journey took us closer to Fuego, the very live volcano. As we stopped to take a picture it obliged by sending a very impressive plume up into the air.
Our travelling companions had the same preparedness as Gill – a young Frenchman we collected from his hostel carried on to said shuttle his machete, the blade well wrapped in newspaper – the driver didn’t turn a hair! He felt he needed it for protection… But we did see a big poster ad on the way here advertising the latest in discreet bullet proof vests… The fields we drove past were very different from the highlands – lots of sugar cane, bananas etc.
Monterrico is ‘the beach resort ‘ for this coast. That doesn’t say much. It is a sandblown flea bitten one street town, with unmade roads and shacks. There are a few budget hotels on the beach and it has a lawless air. At the weekend it filled up with ‘rich kids’ escaping Guatemala city – they let loose by driving quads all over the beach and playing loud music as they roared past.
We arrived at the Le Pez De Oro hotel, described as a cool hotel of small bungalows on the beach with a couple of small piscinas. The pictures looked good. We reflect on how good photography is these days… It’s on a black sand beach, and jollily painted in the pinks, dark blues and yellows of the Maya. But it’s fine and seems clean. The best bit is the rather comfy hammock slung on the terrace outside of each room. I wonder how long they take to wear out – they certainly got a good “hammocking” today!
The hotel obviously doesn’t cater for the cool, late crowd – the restaurant closes at 8pm, and the bar at 9pm. The walk into the village (they call it a town, but there is no internet café or ATM that we can find, so even calling it a village is pushing it we thought) for a sunset drink. Thinking of health, safety, machetes and bullet proof vests, we took nothing but a torch and some quetzales to pay for our drink.. But those preparations apparently are not needed – we now face yet another danger…. This time it’s the wild dogs are the ones to watch as you walk back along the dark lane… But we survive the walk back down a very dark road to eat in our hotel – better that than walk back a bit later – so yes, on occasions, even we can be sensible. For the next few evenings we found Johnny’s place for sunset drinks and the walk back along the beach became much less worrying!
For the first night we are the only people staying here, we eat our pasta and then all the staff go home…. We are left facing a big, black sand beach looking across the Pacific into infinity in an empty hotel in the pitch dark moonless night to finish our wine, both pretending to the other that we are not at all concerned. And then the spookin’ started. We saw a shady figure out on the sand, and then gunfire. We convinced ourselves (correctly as it turned out!) that it was just the local Guate’s letting off yet more firecrackers, a favourite national pastime. Then a rabid dog went by – well actually it was just a local mutt who stopped by where we were sitting to have a good scratch, but that was it. We grab our wine and go back to our rooms and sit on the terrace – Ant wrapped like a cocoon in the hammock for protection. We finish the wine for dutch courage to get through the night – both terrified to stay out but even more terrified to go in! The rooms, little bungalows, are concrete construction, with banana tree thatched roofs, plenty of little gaps to let all kinds of beasties in. We have both seen better bathrooms – again each has a little thatched roof ….. But needs must and eventually we each gain the courage to go into our rooms and dive under the huge mozzie nets over the bed. But not a restful night – convinced we were going to be attacked by all sorts of nocturnal animals, and the sound of the Pacific surf pounding away in the near distance didn’t make for nocturnal quiet. The sound of the surf was even louder in the rooms, and you could actually feel the force of the waves – yet another hotel where “did the earth move for you darling” could be the usp.
But next morning everything looked a lot better as we took breakfast overlooking the sea. A nice morning walk along the beach , with stops for Ron con Jugo Naranja, a quick nose into the few other hotels (and even though we were a bit “sniffy” about where we are staying, we realise it is the best available!). A quick visit to a turtle and cayman hatching place – unbelievably bad conditions for the poor animals they are trying to conserve. We read that Montericco is Guatemala’s premier beach resort. Basically it’s a beach with a few little hotels and the odd bar, probably a bit like Goa even before all those hippies arrived in the 60’s. But whilst the Pacific is spectacular the big waves and dangerous undertow make it impossible to swim, so not sure it’s ever going to take off as a global resort. It does have it’s own charm though – the beach is long, wide and deserted and the town/village backing it is quiet – not even the souvenir shops you would expect. We found the one internet café in the whole place where it was so slow, we just gave up. Dusty streets, little empty restaurants, no shops and no discernible infrastructure whatsoever. So back to the hammock for a bit more of a rest – and late afternoon, that bathroom had to be faced – note to self, never book anywhere again that doesn’t have hot water…..
This evening we sponsored the release of some baby turtles from their controlled hatching place. They were tiny, and looked jet black and just like the Bertie Bassett sweetie you get in a pack of licorice allsorts! But two more turtles are now released to the world (good planning for our turtle soup in the future….) and Ant also volunteered to help to find nesting turtles tonight. I saw him off into the great black yonder with a torch, a bottle of water and a camera…. I am currently sitting here waiting and hoping for his safe return……yet another traveller rule broken! But much less spooked tonight – as it’s Friday the hotel has a few more guests down from Guatemala City for the weekend.
This is Ant back safely – that was tough, a route march for 6km along the beach, pitch dark, crashing waves, shadowy figures. The guy who was with me, works for the turtle foundation and does this every night during the egg laying season. However, there were other guys out there to try and beat him to the eggs as they sell them in the market. He had an interesting background. His father had been killed when he was an infant in the civil war. He and his mother with 1000’s others had walked to the states and entered as illegals. He lived there for 19 years, hence his perfect English. His mother was killed in a car jacking in LA when he was 11, and he lived rough for the next 8 years. He had never been to school. He now worked for the turtle foundation, was 33 years old and had 3 kids.
On more than one occasion I thought what if this whole walk is a ruse to mug me - but it wasn’t and I had nothing with me except a torch anyway! My calves were killing me and I was sweating like a……., and we found no turtles!! It is the end of the season and there is only a 60% chance anyway, so I wasn’t too hopeful, the walk in itself was an experience.
Our travelling companions had the same preparedness as Gill – a young Frenchman we collected from his hostel carried on to said shuttle his machete, the blade well wrapped in newspaper – the driver didn’t turn a hair! He felt he needed it for protection… But we did see a big poster ad on the way here advertising the latest in discreet bullet proof vests… The fields we drove past were very different from the highlands – lots of sugar cane, bananas etc.
Monterrico is ‘the beach resort ‘ for this coast. That doesn’t say much. It is a sandblown flea bitten one street town, with unmade roads and shacks. There are a few budget hotels on the beach and it has a lawless air. At the weekend it filled up with ‘rich kids’ escaping Guatemala city – they let loose by driving quads all over the beach and playing loud music as they roared past.
We arrived at the Le Pez De Oro hotel, described as a cool hotel of small bungalows on the beach with a couple of small piscinas. The pictures looked good. We reflect on how good photography is these days… It’s on a black sand beach, and jollily painted in the pinks, dark blues and yellows of the Maya. But it’s fine and seems clean. The best bit is the rather comfy hammock slung on the terrace outside of each room. I wonder how long they take to wear out – they certainly got a good “hammocking” today!
The hotel obviously doesn’t cater for the cool, late crowd – the restaurant closes at 8pm, and the bar at 9pm. The walk into the village (they call it a town, but there is no internet café or ATM that we can find, so even calling it a village is pushing it we thought) for a sunset drink. Thinking of health, safety, machetes and bullet proof vests, we took nothing but a torch and some quetzales to pay for our drink.. But those preparations apparently are not needed – we now face yet another danger…. This time it’s the wild dogs are the ones to watch as you walk back along the dark lane… But we survive the walk back down a very dark road to eat in our hotel – better that than walk back a bit later – so yes, on occasions, even we can be sensible. For the next few evenings we found Johnny’s place for sunset drinks and the walk back along the beach became much less worrying!
For the first night we are the only people staying here, we eat our pasta and then all the staff go home…. We are left facing a big, black sand beach looking across the Pacific into infinity in an empty hotel in the pitch dark moonless night to finish our wine, both pretending to the other that we are not at all concerned. And then the spookin’ started. We saw a shady figure out on the sand, and then gunfire. We convinced ourselves (correctly as it turned out!) that it was just the local Guate’s letting off yet more firecrackers, a favourite national pastime. Then a rabid dog went by – well actually it was just a local mutt who stopped by where we were sitting to have a good scratch, but that was it. We grab our wine and go back to our rooms and sit on the terrace – Ant wrapped like a cocoon in the hammock for protection. We finish the wine for dutch courage to get through the night – both terrified to stay out but even more terrified to go in! The rooms, little bungalows, are concrete construction, with banana tree thatched roofs, plenty of little gaps to let all kinds of beasties in. We have both seen better bathrooms – again each has a little thatched roof ….. But needs must and eventually we each gain the courage to go into our rooms and dive under the huge mozzie nets over the bed. But not a restful night – convinced we were going to be attacked by all sorts of nocturnal animals, and the sound of the Pacific surf pounding away in the near distance didn’t make for nocturnal quiet. The sound of the surf was even louder in the rooms, and you could actually feel the force of the waves – yet another hotel where “did the earth move for you darling” could be the usp.
But next morning everything looked a lot better as we took breakfast overlooking the sea. A nice morning walk along the beach , with stops for Ron con Jugo Naranja, a quick nose into the few other hotels (and even though we were a bit “sniffy” about where we are staying, we realise it is the best available!). A quick visit to a turtle and cayman hatching place – unbelievably bad conditions for the poor animals they are trying to conserve. We read that Montericco is Guatemala’s premier beach resort. Basically it’s a beach with a few little hotels and the odd bar, probably a bit like Goa even before all those hippies arrived in the 60’s. But whilst the Pacific is spectacular the big waves and dangerous undertow make it impossible to swim, so not sure it’s ever going to take off as a global resort. It does have it’s own charm though – the beach is long, wide and deserted and the town/village backing it is quiet – not even the souvenir shops you would expect. We found the one internet café in the whole place where it was so slow, we just gave up. Dusty streets, little empty restaurants, no shops and no discernible infrastructure whatsoever. So back to the hammock for a bit more of a rest – and late afternoon, that bathroom had to be faced – note to self, never book anywhere again that doesn’t have hot water…..
This evening we sponsored the release of some baby turtles from their controlled hatching place. They were tiny, and looked jet black and just like the Bertie Bassett sweetie you get in a pack of licorice allsorts! But two more turtles are now released to the world (good planning for our turtle soup in the future….) and Ant also volunteered to help to find nesting turtles tonight. I saw him off into the great black yonder with a torch, a bottle of water and a camera…. I am currently sitting here waiting and hoping for his safe return……yet another traveller rule broken! But much less spooked tonight – as it’s Friday the hotel has a few more guests down from Guatemala City for the weekend.
This is Ant back safely – that was tough, a route march for 6km along the beach, pitch dark, crashing waves, shadowy figures. The guy who was with me, works for the turtle foundation and does this every night during the egg laying season. However, there were other guys out there to try and beat him to the eggs as they sell them in the market. He had an interesting background. His father had been killed when he was an infant in the civil war. He and his mother with 1000’s others had walked to the states and entered as illegals. He lived there for 19 years, hence his perfect English. His mother was killed in a car jacking in LA when he was 11, and he lived rough for the next 8 years. He had never been to school. He now worked for the turtle foundation, was 33 years old and had 3 kids.
On more than one occasion I thought what if this whole walk is a ruse to mug me - but it wasn’t and I had nothing with me except a torch anyway! My calves were killing me and I was sweating like a……., and we found no turtles!! It is the end of the season and there is only a 60% chance anyway, so I wasn’t too hopeful, the walk in itself was an experience.
