Final ramblings in Antigua

Yet another shot of the volcano, erupting just at sunset. Taken from our rooftop at Black Cat Hotel.

Ramblings: there are armed guards at every bank we've seen. They will open the locked door to the bank to let customers in. The bank lobbies are very quiet.  ATM's are everywhere, but we're changing American dollars here, saving the fee, so I must go inside.  Changing dollars requires my passport, multiple copies of mysterious forms to fill out and have stamped by a high-ranking bank official.

One coffee tree yields 1# of coffee/ year. One pound of coffee makes about 45 cups.

Arabic coffee has 1 - 1.5% caffeine
Robusta coffee has 2- 2.5% caffiene



The Iglesia and Convento de Santo Domingo is an unbelievably big church/ruin complex. Founded by Dominican friars in 1542, it became the biggest and richest manastery in Atingua. It was seriously damaged by three earthquakes in the 18th century, and it's valuable parts were pillaged for construction material as late as the 20th century. According to LP, the site was acquired by a American archeologist in the 1970's, and extensive work was done to create a cultural center. It's now owned by the fancy-pants Casa Santo Domingo hotel, next door, and is beautifully and lovingly maintained today. I entered from the opposite side from the church, in what was the monastery. There were very nice historic exhibits, and a changing-exhibit gallery (more on that gallery in a minute). I wandered through the old kitchen, and out the back door to the laundrymat tanque and gardens. Then, into the modern entry to a fine art gallery and Mayan artifacts gallery. It was beautiful! The new building was designed around the ruins, and I walked on centuries old floors and modern floor, and around old walls and new walls! The Santo Domingo is one of the pretties places, with one of the finest galleries I've ever seen. But wait, there's more...I went outside to what appeared to be more gardens, and realized I was standing beside the ruins of the church. The picture at the left here, is inside, close to the original altar. The old bells are hung from a modern display. I wish I could hear them ring! I tried, in vain, to take a picture of the altar, which was hung with miles of white cotton cloth. The entire church roof was gone, and a modern canvas top, beautifully suspended was installed. No picture I took could convey the vastness or the beauty of the ruins.


In the changing exhibits gallery, close to the beginning of my tour of the Santo Domingo, I fell in love with the hanging work. This man, Noe Edel, was one of thirty members of an artists coop, and today was his day to sit the gallery. We talked a while, he told me about the artists, and some of the paintings.

The perspective, I later learned, is a well-known Guatemalan style: either from directly below, or directly above. Besides the perspective, I loved the subjects and the colors. Impossible to get one of there home, traveling the way we are....but I'm so happy to have seen the work!








One more shot of our hotel in Antigua, from the roof. I think we fell in love with Antigua becuase of the temperature and the size of the town. It was warm. We'd been cold since we arrived in Oaxaca in early December, we were cold in Xela. And, the shower in our bathroom had all the hot water I wanted. The town was small, there was little traffic, except for the buses, who's route were several blocks away.  The food was very good, the locals friendly and the other travelers interesting.

We met many other travelers, mostly college students on winter break. One young man, from Houston, had 9 days and had traveled from the far north of Guatemala, Livingston/Flores area, to Xela and now Antigua. The distance is not so great if you have a car, but traveling by bus or shuttle was a different story. Stuart and I marvelled at the travel plans of some people, barely staying in one place long enough to say they'd been there. But, all the people we met were interesting, friendly, and curious. They were also mostly liberal-minded, well-educated and well-read.  We met only one other American couple, everyone else was European or South American.

Too soon, we decide to move onto Lake Atitlan. We'll take a shuttle, which means a van making no stops to pick up more passengers. It costs a little more than the bus, but will be comfortable and faster than the chicken bus. We're told Panajachel, the town at the north of the lake is about 3 hours drive. We'll cross mountains, and see some beautiful geography, I'm sure.