Lake Atitlan

There comes a day when even the most seasoned traveller gets ripped off.
This was that day.

Lake Atitlan was described by Aldous Huxley as the most beautiful lake in the world. Aldous must have gone on a clear day because clouds were hanging heavily over the surrounding volcanoes and unfortunately very little of the most beautiful lake was visible. Still, it's not all about the view, it's about the experience, right?

Arriving in Panajachel, the largest of the towns surrounding the lake, we were met by a rather dubious guide who convinced six of us to take a boat to three of the other villages surrounding the lake. One he claimed was known for textiles (I was in), one was known for paintings (two others) and the last town was the prettiest in the area (so that was six of us). Like lambs to the slaughter, off we went. That was rip-off number one.



The first two villages were pretty disappointing. Small to the point of almost non-existent we searched in vain for the promised textiles and paintings. We headed across the lake to find Santiago, our last stop.

The boat pulled in to a restaurant far away from the center of Santiago and we were shanghaied. Bambu restaurant was lovely to look at, the setting was superb, the food not quite so much and we quickly realised there was an "arrangement" between the boat driver and the restaurant. I had chicken but which part, I'm not sure (fond memories of Mexico). The margarita certainly helped as we were all getting on brilliantly and having a great laugh but who knew that would be the highlight of the day. We should have had another drink but that's hindsight for you. That was rip-off number two.




Time was ticking away. It was 3pm, we were due back at the minibus at 4pm and it was an hour across the lake to get back. We had yet to get to Santiago, the whole point of the trip. After much cajoling of the boat driver, we finally made it, margarita-induced fun still going strong at that point. There were a lot of paintings, two people were happy so at least something was accomplished.

Returning to the minibus an hour late we were informed that we would each have to pay an additional 40 Quetzales to get back to Antigua.

Outrageous!

Margarita-induced fun stopped there.

It may only be $5 but there was a principal involved. The minibus only cost $10 to start with so to charge half again was just wrong. A full-blown Guatemalan argument ensued between the Spanish speakers (everyone except me), the boat driver, the tour organiser and the bus driver. Fingers were pointed, fists were shaken, but to no avail, the only way back to Antigua was to cough up the additional money. And so that was rip-off number three.

To bring the day to a perfect end, one of the girls I'd spent the day with then threw up in the minibus on the way back to Antigua. We think it may have been the food!

The whole experience was hilarious and I met some great people. We were completely taken advantage of, blackmailed (not my phrase but yes, indeed) and taken for a ride in more ways that one. I wouldn't change a thing but then again, I might not hurry back to Panajachel!