Chico y Chavo, For a fistful of Quetzales
Chico y Chavo ready for the test ride
End of 1993 I left with two friends for a trip to Central America. However, we did not travel together. I went from Guatemala to Costa Rica, Thomas from Mexico to Nicaragua and Manni from Mexico to Costa Rica. Since there was no Internet nor mobile phones at the time, we had agreed to leave messages fro the others in what appeared to be the most appealing place to stay in the towns we wanted to pass through. And it worked: I met both of them.
Locals in front of a local bus
But this is not the story of today. I arrived in Guatemala on the 30th of December. On new year’s eve, the lovely colonial ruin of Antigua, the old capital of Guatemala, became a war zone. People, mostly tourists, were literally throwing fireworks at each other. There was a guy who swung a meter of Chinese firecrackers around his head, which went into the crowd while exploding. I took refuge at a table at a bar and met Rob, one of the most entertaining and interesting fellow travellers ever. In addition, he was one of the few people who were able to take pictures of me, which were not embarrassing or negative.
Indian girls and tourist men
Rob was just starting a bicycle trip from Guatemala back home to the American East coast, where he came from. He had had bought an old ambulance and driven it down to Guatemala to help the Indians. This was the time of the Guerrilla wars in Guatemala, and Robs motto was: “My government helps the Guatemalan Army, so I have to help the Indians”. His dream was to cycle around the world.
Village new years fiesta in the village of Guate above Antigua Guatemala
The next day, after we had survived the war zone and overcome the consequence, a considerable intoxicated state, he asked me to join him on his bike trip. I would have liked to but I neither had a bike nor the necessary bags and equipment. But he waived my objections away. I could rent a bike and straps to fix my bag-pack to the rear. So, to test how we could get along, I indeed rented a bike and we went up the hill to a village at the base of one of the volcanoes around Antigua. By accident, they had a little new years fiesta, and the intoxication started again.
Ready to move
The next day we took off. The idea was to go up north, if possible to the Maya ruins of Tikal, a considerable distance of about 600 km. The first part of the route was fine. It was a practically new paved road without traffic. But our idea was to go into the country side and pass through the small Indian villages. As the philanthropist he was, Rob had brought a thick book of basic medical treatment, which he wanted to try on the locals. But he also was careful, because the area, to where we went, was Guerrilla territory. So he fixed his weapon, a big machete, easily reachable to the side of his bike bag.
Our route from Antigua to Lanquin
Once we had left the main road, things got complicated. This part of Guatemala consists of high mountains, steep valleys and the road of mostly boulders. We crept up the hills like slugs and had be very careful downhill because of the rocks and runs in the road. There was no way we would reach our first destination, the little village of Granados, that night. So we targeted the Mayan ruins of Mixco Viejo, about 60 km from Antigua. We thought there might be a settlement and a place to sleep and eat.
The road north
Sunset came quickly and no ruins came in sight. We continued in the darkness. My bicycle did not have a light and I used a headlamp instead. The sight was poor and on a steep slope we almost hit an Indian family camped in the middle of the road.
The Mayan ruins of Mixco viejo in the late morning light
Eventually we reached the ruins. There was nothing else. So we spread out blankets and sleeping bags between the ancient ruins, had some crackers, fruit and nuts and went to sleep. Rob had put his machete next to him. In the middle of the night, I woke up from a loud scream. Rob stood next to me swinging his machete. I shouted at him. He calmed down and told me that he had had a dream that a group of guerrillas had attacked him.
Ready for breakfast between the ghosts of the Mayas
The road got worse the next day. We needed the whole day to reach the village of Granados only about 40 km away. There was little traffic, but on an especially bumpy and steep sloop we flagged down a pickup which gave us and our bicycles a lift to the summit. In Granados we eventually found a woman who gave us a bare room to sleep in the dental clinic, which only operated on Saturday’s from 8 till 5. Food we found in a little stall next to the church.
The dental clinic, where we slept the second night
The village church of Granados and the only eating place of the village in the blue stall next to the church
Happy to have reached the village of Granados
Ready for lunch
The next days the road got better. We stayed in pretty little villages usually dominated by bright white colonial churches. We started to call ourselves with the nicknames chico and chavo. Eventually, 188 km after Granados, we reached San Augustin Lanquin, a village which is famous for the famous grutas de Lanquin, now a national park. In this karst landscape, a river passes through a tunnel, while a tributary has created beautiful pools on the ridge above the tunnel. There was no way that my schedule would allow me to continue to cycle further north all the way to Tikal. So eventually, we both took busses back to Antigua.
A little impression of the cycling topography
Refreshment stand on the way
Chavo enjoying his lunch
Worn out!
Help to the summit by a pickup
A roadside farm
The top of the crest on the way to Rabinal
Main street of the village of Rabinal
Above the valley
Aldrich and Armstrong of Apollo 11 landed on the moon on July 22, 1969. That was some years ago .....
Later in the year I had the chance to visit Rob in his beautiful New England village full of Victorian mansions. When I left, he promised to pass by in Holland on his planned world tour. Unfortunately, afterwards, without all the means of communication we have now, I have lost contact. I don’t know whether he ever did his bicycle tour around the world.
The hospedaje in Lanquin
The pools of Lanquin
Link to other posts about Guatemala
Snack stand in the Guamalteken countryside
I tried to get into contact with Chavo many times but unfortunately he seems to be lost...
