Guatemalamania

I always feel empty inside when returning from an intense experience. I was sad to leave Guatemala.

Yes, we left the country for a week. Anton went to Argentina to meet up with his girlfriend, I went to Guatemala. I knew absolutely nothing about Guatemala. And I had never really traveled on my own before. But I would not be lonely. In Antigua, I stayed with Cynthia, a Guatemalan restaurant manager chick, who at the same time hosted German coffee expert Thomas, British DJ Adam, and American teacher Ben. The five of us became what Guatemalans for a long time will remember as The Gang. Antigua is a cute little town full of life. The Gang was invited to have a barbecue at Priscilla’s porch, so we went to the market to buy what we needed: prawns, chicken, avocados, peppers, pineapples, bananas, mangoes, garlic and lemons. All obviously locally produced, and ours for a couple of bucks. Also, to Priscilla’s surprise, we bought a live rooster, who she now keeps as her pet.

There are active volcanoes in Guatemala, and I and Adam decided we’d go climb one. It was actually really cool. At the top, all forces of nature tried to tell us: guys, you’re not supposed to be here. There was fog and thunder and lightning (that once even struck the very mountain top we were on), and of course there was the lava. And then the rain started pouring and I was soaked within minutes. And then Adam slipped on the magma gravel and cut his hand pretty deep. There we stood, trying to tie a piece of cloth around his hand, while nature roared. The only good thing was that as long as we were close to the lava, we were warm. But of course, as we started to climb down, it got really, really cold.

The two-day trip that I, Adam and Thomas made to lake Atitlan, was far more comfortable. On arrival, we had lunch at restaurant Buddha in San Pedro, which might be the most relaxed place on earth. Big sofas on the second floor, overlooking the mountain lake and its surrounding green and lush volcanoes. After lunch, we just chilled and had a couple of beers, until it was time for dinner. We ended up staying until they closed, all the time comfortably horizontal.

On a trip around the lake, Thomas taught us all thee is to know about coffee, which grows abundantly in the region. Back in Antigua, it was time to say good-bye to all these fantastic people and wonderful places. The car was waiting for me at the Dallas international airport, and I must admit that it felt as if I had not seen that car for months.

Sick in Ghost town

What strikes me more and more about the US is that there is nothing here. And the things that are, are all the same everywhere: McDonald’s, KFC, Dunkin' Donuts and Wal-Mart. Host Mark told us that there were so many things around in Panama City, but we didn’t believe him. And we were right. The city was dead. Not only is there no cafés, restaurants or stores, there are no people. The towns are empty. Anyhow, through Mark, we finally met some nice people and had a good time.

In Pensacola Beach, we took in to the fanciest hotel so far. To little use for me, it would turn out. I got sick, and just stayed in bed all the time.

New Orleans, as opposed to Panama City and most other cities here, is very European. European is good. European means diverse and lively. Here, there are stores, cafés and restaurants (which still mostly serve deep-fried grease with gravy), and people out in the streets. And of course bars with live music. We went on a swamp tour, where we saw some alligators, and we went to the Laura Plantations, which is some sort of historic site where the Creoles used to grow sugar. Not being big fans of historic sites, the plantations exceeded our expectations. Probably mostly due to the guide who knew the secrets of storytelling. Some days of jazz and Creole history later, we set off for a new part of our trip: Texas.

Just another week in the south

I had this romantic idea of our car breaking down somewhere in the desert, forcing us to walk for miles and miles, until we ran out of water. Well, the car broke down at a big parking lot outside a Wal-Mart. The ride with the tower was a good experience though. He was a big Nice Inch Nails fan, and I got to hear the latest album at a freakishly high volume.

This was yesterday. A week ago or so, we stayed in a house in midtown Memphis. We never really understood who lived in this house. It was some sort of art hippie vegan community type thing, where people just seemed to come and go. You know the type: drawings and poetry on the walls, some old wheelchair as improvised furniture, some old sofa from a dumpster out on the porch. We brought bourbon and nachos, and so we were much welcomed. Also, we installed a shower and ripped out the floor from a room where a new guy was to live together with a bunch of robots. He was a robotics artist hoping to get to Hollywood working with robotic special effects.

In Alabama, we stayed with Curt and Salina. Both of them being white water freaks, we went for a two day trip to the Appalachians. Day one was white water kayaking, day two was rafting. Kayaking is really lots cooler than rafting. Rafting, as our guide put it, is like running down the stream in a Cadillac.

After a night with the mechanics, the car works fine now, and it took us down to Panama City, Florida, with no problems. Although we did get stopped by the police, who thought that we were drug dealers and interrogated us for 15 minutes. Fortunately, we're not drug dealers, so we finally got out of it.

Crazy days

St Louis was two days loaded with experience. Hannah had a tiny dirty apartment, and no less than four guests: her boyfriend, an Australian couchsurfer, and us. Our queen size air mattress came in handy. And took up the entire floor. With Hannah, there was non-stop action. She took us to a dodgy bar god knows where, where we ended up having the best time with her and her many, many friends all night long.

Odd enough for an Aussie, Will was a big baseball fan. So we tagged along to the Chicago Cubs vs St Louis Cardinals game that he was supposed to see with some girl. Me and Anton bought a pair of tickets. Obviously, we had no clue as to the rules and tactics of this all American sport. Luckily, two or three parties of people around us engaged greatly in explaining it all. Again, we had made new friends. And so had they: apparently the joint task of explaining baseball to Swedes overshadowed the rivalry between Cubs and Cardinals fans. We all went out for drinks, and met Al Hrabosky, aka The Mad Hungarian. We had no clue who he was, but as Cardinals fan Matt put it: this for us is what it would be for you to meet Péle. I even got to touch his World Series ring. Yes, he was actually wearing it. As for Aussie-boy Will, that girl never showed up so he never even saw the game.

The following days were not as eventful, and more traditionally touristy. Lousville, Kentucky, was an interesting experience. We came at night, stayed at a creepy motel where we thought we would be killed, and left early in the morning. Without knowing our general direction for the day, we went for a short tour in the Mammoth Caves and to the Jim Beam distillery. This Sunday, however, we could not do the presumably nicest part of the distillery tour – the tasting of bourbons. Illegal, on Sundays. Sweden flashback.

Nashville, Tennessee, the home of country music. Here, there are bars that have live music acts every day. And nothing else. Lucky for us, this is the best motel so far. We’re enjoying the pool, the clean sheets, and the lack of old coke cans and used napkins under our beds.