Little Island

It was getting dark when we went through customs into Guatemala. There was a hand-written sign for all the drugs and fruits we were not supposed to be carrying, and gentlemen with shotguns. The road is unpaved for the first hour into the country, and the dust and darkness didn´t give a lot of depth perception. It was also apparently past our driver´s bedtime, as he kept falling asleep and the guys in the front of the bus had to clap right behind his head to wake him up until we reached Flores.

Our first impression of Flores, actually Santa Elena, was a large, brightly-lit mall and fast food. Strange -- not quite what we were expecting. Neither was Flores, but in a much better way. It´s a beautiful tiny island in Gautemala´s second largest lake (why is everything always the second largest?), covered with rows of stone and plaster houses and narrow cobblestone streets. More like a European village. School started the next day, so we spent the day walking, reading, eating, and generally relaxing. It was lovely. High season isn´t until May, so the restaurants were empty, and we wondered how the place survives. It´s a really rare place where locals were living their lives alongside the tourist industry -- an aerobics class in session, music lessons in open windows, and soccer games. The Pringles delivery truck has an armed escort.

School starts tomorrow!