The Missionary Position

Volcan Picaya is supposedly the easiest to climb of the four volcanoes surrounding Antigua. The starter volcano, so to speak. It's also the only active one. Both reasons for visiting Pacaya were appealing so it was off on a minibus to climb the volcano.

At the entrance to the national park we were greeted by numerous small boys with armfuls of hand-hewn walking sticks. It's a great idea. They rent sticks to intrepid explorers for 5 quetzales a piece. It's less than a dollar but they get the stick back at the end of the day and can rent it to the next international adventurer.



The variety of nationalities here is surprising. Our group alone consisted of Australians, Americans, French Canadians, Israelis, Germans, Spanish and me - an international cocktail.

The going was fairly steep and not being prepared for a hike (no boots, only trainers) it was quite challenging. We were accompanied by a number of men and small boys on horseback. The noise, the smell, the shit was everywhere but they offered an essential taxi service up the volcano to the physically challenged. Before long there were a couple of additional riders.

Reaching the rim of the volcano we were suddenly shrouded in cloud. As we dropped over the rim we went from dust to black lava that cracked and splintered underfoot. The cold lava was sharp and as we hopped from rock to rock, cuts and scratches started to appear on delicate flesh.

On we went, the heat gradually increasing until we finally reached the molten red river of lava winding its way down the mountainside. At first it seemed to be moving quite slowly but from time to time a large rock would shift and the lava would pour down, rocks crashing together as they were pushed aside.

One girl went a little too close to the heat and her plastic shoes started to melt. When considering volcano-friendly fashion, it's definitely something to bear in mind.



It turned out the girl with the melted shoes was a missionary spreading the word. She was part of a group of 170 missionaries converging on Antigua this week for a conference.

I've been carrying a (free) Christian Spanish bag around with me for the past few days. The world's heaviest laptop fits quite nicely into it but perhaps Christian promotion isn't the best idea this week as I don't fancy my chances against 170.

Returning down the dusty trail in the dark was challenging. A few hikers had torches but the majority of the group staggered and slid down the hill, the piles of horse dung unavoidable, invisible in the dark.

It was a fantastic experience all the more so for being in a country which doesn't cry "lawsuit" at the drop of a hat.

There's a strange theme emerging here. Missionaries, Christians, retired ballet dancers... I can't imagine what's next.

Oh, that's right, Spanish classes...