El Lago de Atitlan

Here in Guatemala, a country of 13 million people and 42,000 square miles, there is no shortage of things to do. While I dedicate my weekdays to studying Spanish and exploring Antigua's many diversions, the weekends are reserved for traveling. 

There are hundreds of travel agencies based in Antigua, all offering direct buses and package options for Guatemala's popular destinations. For my second weekend in this incredible country, I joined a group of students from my Spanish school on an excursion to Lake Atitlan, Guatemala's great lake.

Directly after class on Friday, we boarded the bus headed to Panajachel, the main hub on the banks of Atitlan. Three hours later we arrived at the edge of the lake, then boarded a boat for San Pedro. Grey waves chopped beneath the prow and clouds hung low overhead as we headed into the twilight. We pulled up to the dock at San Pedro and descended into a hippie hang-out of reggae bars and hookah joints. Hungry and tired, we trolled the tiny city's main drag for a place to eat. We feasted on pollo frito and carne asada before heading back to the bars near the docks. At a restaurant whose wooden deck hung over the waters of the lake, we drank cuba libres and toasted the fine variety of Central America. 

Saturday morning, we again feasted, this time on huevos rancheros and fruit-filled crepes. We drank glasses of fresh-squeezed orange juice and cups of hot tea before collecting our backpacks and heading out. The group split up for the day, three people heading to kayak around the lake and three of us going for a horseback ride. 

The sky stretched clear and blue overhead as our trio of chicas climbed onto the backs of our steeds. We rode along a winding mountain path, through coffee plantations and shaded banana trees, until finally we reached a clearing at the join of two hills. We dismounted and tied up our horses, then followed our guide down a sloping path to Golden Beach. We stripped down to our bathing suits, shedding our dusty riding clothes on the black sand of the beach, and ventured in to the cold waters of Atitlan. 

On the way back, we galloped along dirt roads before pulling to a stop at the stables. Overhead, evening clouds rolled in over the lake. We walked on trembling legs to a café at the waters' edge where we drank limonadas and retold the adventures of our ride. 

We left San Pedro early Sunday morning and stopped at the Sunday market at Chichicastenango. Hundreds of stalls crowded together in the market where vendors sold brightly colored cloths, hand-painted masks, and beaded jewelry. After several intense bargaining sessions, we left weighted down with shopping bags.