A flying visit – with special help from our roving correspondent Aunty Helen

The humans had not explored any of Guatemala but they are not used to travelling on land any more, so I asked my Aunty Helen and Uncle Steve to come across from the UK and act as my roving correspondents.   I had some important snoozing and playing to catch up with on the Rio so I packed the humans off to meet them.

The female human had to unearth her dresses and even her high heels for the trip while the male human discovered that he had packed a jacket when they left Brighton.

First place on the tour was Antigua, which was reached by air-conditioned coach. The humans thawed out when they got to their destination and enjoyed a lovely dinner in the Meson Panze Verde

where they were joined by a rather wet Aunty Helen and Uncle Steve, who had flown into Guatemala City and driven though the tropical rain to meet them. After quite a lot of squealing and a couple of beers they all retired to bed.

The next morning saw them all bedecked in some rather splendid T-shirts sporting my face on the front

The humans soon got used to the fact that their 80 year old waitress liked to deliver most of the breakfast items by putting them on her head – including very full jugs of orange juice and they introduced the correspondents to the famous tortilla. The hotel husky and Yorkshire terrier were spotted and duly patted and after a rest on the balcony and in the hammock they went off for a walk through Antigua, the old Spanish capital of Guatemala. The town is beautiful and lovely to explore on foot. It’s up in the start of the highlands and right up against a very volcano-y volcano, which is framed nicely by this arch. This gave the correspondents their first photo opportunity.

The humans explained to the correspondents that it was quite normal in Guatemala for the banks and other shops to have security guards with pump action shot guns outside them and that they were probably better off not taking photos of them. So they contented themselves with some more photos of the town to show you just how lovely it is.

After purchasing some award winning local rum and eating some lunch in the market café they checked out a coffee shop and purchased some of the area’s coffee beans. They served lattes and cappuccinos and they all remarked that it was really very like England – well apart from the customers, surroundings, smells and prices.

After that it was on to the next destination – Lake Atitlan, which Aldous Huxley called the most beautiful lake in the world. Ringed by volcanoes it was an interesting drive along precipitous mountain roads and allowed the correspondents to scare the pants off the human passengers by learning to drive like Guatemalans. This mostly involves overtaking on blind spots, swerving to avoid oncoming overtaking American style trucks that also overtake on blind spots, dodging small motorbikes and local wildlife and occasionally getting stuck behind very smelly cattle trucks – at which point the whole cycle starts again.

They all made it to Panajachabel on the shores of the lake in one piece and checked into their bed and breakfast, which was run by an American gentleman called Richard. Richard is a Vietnam veteran who had seen too much action and he decided to move to Guatemala in the 70s to get over it all. Now very laid back with his own herb garden (we didn’t check out all of the herbs just in case) he is a fascinating man and he was on hand at breakfast to tell us all about the local villages surrounding the lake. The gardener beckoned to the correspondents and took them right up to the top of the house where they were met with the view of the lake in the morning sun and understood what Mr Huxley had been talking about.

The humans meanwhile were fending off an attack of giant ants in their room – which were attracted to the human male’s bath towel. This was sorted out in a jiffy by the housekeeper, Carla. They all also spent some time patting the hotel’s Labrador – there’s a lot of patting going on here that doesn’t relate to me isn’t there?

They then all jumped in the 4×4 and drove along the lakeside, stopping to check out waterfalls and more astonishing views of the lake.

The countryside was very green and they all remarked that it was really very like the Lake District in England – well apart from the volcanoes, heat and vegetation. Their destination was the town of Solola, which hosts a market every Tuesday. Parking up in the main square they asked for directions to “Mercado”, and each time the locals just pointed up the hill, up the hill. Well they were right – it was right up at the top of the hill and it was incredible – an assault on the senses. Bright material stalls crammed in next to overflowing baskets of bright fruits, vegetables and herbs. Ladies of all ages cooking tortillas selling for pennies.

And all the locals wearing traditional costume – not because of any tourists – because there weren’t any – just us. They were wearing it because that’s what they wear every day. The ladies wear tops and skirts and folded up cloth on their head and the gentleman look resplendent in embroidered cowboy shirts, trousers, embroidered wrap-arounds at their waist, cowboy boots and cowboy hats.

Each village in the highlands has their own distinct background colour and patterns for the cloth – just like tartans. The ladies of the village hand-weave and hand-embroider the cloth, which is used for clothing, papooses, tablecloths, curtains – you name it. The female human had been searching for some cloth to make new cushion covers for the boat and did some hard bargaining to get some.

The correspondents also bought some cloth for their main table on their boat at home so everyone was happy. The happiest person by the time they reached the car was the lovely local lady who beamed at and cajoled the male human and followed him down the hill until they agreed on a price they were both pleased with for another great piece of cloth.

Then it was off back to the lake and straight onto a lancha – the local name for a small boat or barge – which took them across a very bumpy lake to the town of Santiago. This was the first place they found that had a line of real tourist shops that everyone was desperate for them to visit and where everyone wanted them to climb in a tuk-tuk – yes that’s right a tuk-tuk from Asia. A few years ago someone decided it would be a good idea to import them into Guatemala and now you find them everywhere. The group chose to walk up the hill using their legs, which shocked the locals, but it was worth it as on the way they came across a tiny gallery with a guy hand painting small pictures of typical Guatemalan people – the correspondents couldn’t help buying some and patting the shop’s dog (what – again?). Up in town they also visited the church, which was being prepared for an important service. Ladies were picking leaves and flower petals in the courtyard and then another group of ladies were creating beautiful patterns along the aisles.

There wasn’t much else that was charming in Santiago so they headed back off across the lake and visited the village of Saint Clara which was very peaceful and laid back before enjoying a pizza dinner in Panajachabel. This was the boys’ first experience of Guatemalan pizza and they discovered that a medium pizza was probably big enough to feed a small village and they had one each. Disappointingly they got a doggy bag while the doggy was still back in the Rio Dulce. However, I was busy taking over my dog-sitters bed and had been pretending that I was nervous of their steps so I could get a carry all the time so I will let this go.

The following day was a long drive from Lake Atitlan all the way across the country to the boat – and ME – back at the Rio Dulce. There was an unsuccessful diversion to the airport to try and pick up the right type of 4×4 in the middle. Fortunately they could raid the doggy bags and there was still enough pizza left over to feed a family of 4 when they turned up to pick me up at the marina in Fronteras as the sun was going down. I say turned up but what I mean is crashed. Only gently though as Uncle Steve braked and stopped and the other gentleman kept on going and bumped into us. Cue a long long wait for the insurance guys to turn up, a mosquito frenzy and a night time drive over the bridge through Fronteras to the marina.

I was very excited to see them all but only really got into my full barky frenzy stride when I was back on my home turf on the boat when I went completely doolally.

After some obligatory beers the female human went to bed and I settled down in bed with Aunty Helen. The male human and Uncle Steve though needed to process the day’s events by sampling the new type of JD and some Cuban cigars that Uncle Steve had bought at the airport – boy did they feel rough in the morning.

As the sun came up over the river the correspondents were able to see how beautiful it was. They all agreed that it was very like England. Well apart from the surrounding jungle sights and sounds, the tropical birds and locals in canoes.

After a very busy few days they all elected to have an easy time and after bashing the front wing on the 4×4 back into shape and driving around in circles to check things out they set out to find Alan the Anteater, who featured in an earlier video, for an excited Aunty Helen. She had a great plan to entice Alan out which involved the male human (bare-chested and lying down), some honey and some ants. But the male human grievously let the side down by not joining in and so they called for Alan to come out in vain.

So they retired to the boat and the hacienda for a lazy morning, followed by a fabulous boat ride over the river to a Mexican restaurant, where they had a late lunch on the deck.

I stayed behind to become re-acquainted with my boat and so they were accompanied over there in the owner’s launch by Chicci the Chihuahua and Bear the black shaggy retriever come mongrel – who had to have a pat of course (ok enough of the patting already).

The evening was a haze of good company, laughing, Quinn-snorting and cavorting, ball throwing, beer and popcorn. I was kind enough to sleep with Uncle Steve and Aunty Helen again and passed the first half an hour licking Uncle Steve’s arm to check it was clean. This is a new obsession of mine along with suckling my blanky both of which are very normal and common for a dog of my manliness and stature.

I had a date with some children and another family the following morning so went off in the dinghy for some serious spoiling. The other 4 drove off up to the North of Guatemala – more of that dodgy driving and England-like country scenes. They passed through a great village which was lined with cowboy boot shops but as all Guatemalans are about 4 feet tall they were not confident of getting a good fit so they kept on going. They soon had to pull over though at a customs stop to check they weren’t taking any fruit into the next state. Then at a rolling roadblock, which was a little alarming at first, but where Aunty Helen and Uncle Steve ended up having a nice chat with the heavily armed soldiers and police about London and Guatemala. Their next stop was the town of Flores, which is built out into a spur in the middle of a lake, where they had a stroll and then enjoyed a lovely lunch, before driving onto Tikal National Park.

The road into the park was tarmac and they remarked that it was really quite like England – well apart from the hardwood trees, road signs warning of snakes, jaguars and anteaters and steam coming off the forest.

There isn’t much that you can put into words about Tikal. It’s the site of an important Mayan City – temples, monuments, quarries, reservoirs – which has been partially and sympathetically excavated. They had a stroll through the site on their own and they were all very moved – Aunty Helen even cried.

Their hotel that night was just at the ruin’s edge right in the jungle and the lights go off at 10 when the generator is turned off and the jungle sounds become really loud.

The group had a fantastic guide for their sunrise tour, which started at 4am. Roxy is half Guatemalan, half American and is an archaeologist, anthropologist and naturalist. The walk through the pitch black into the jungle, under a sky full of bright stars, up to the temples, was unworldly.   Roxy was very passionate and made the history of the rise and fall of the Mayan city and civilisation really come to life as she guided them through the site. Just before sunrise they climbed to the top of the highest temple and watched as the stars faded, the mist formed and rolled around the jungle canopy, the sun came over the horizon and the shape of other temples in the City appeared over the treetops.

Then the howler monkeys started their sunrise calls and it became even more primeval

The rest of the tour was full of amazing facts that put even the female human to shame 😉 and interesting wildlife such as the fantastic coatimundi that made Aunty Helen’s day and more than made up for Alan’s non-appearance

Also toads that secrete a hallucinogenic enzyme – so if you lick them expect to be out of it for several days. One of the amazing facts was that the Mayans perfected the toad enzyme enema which induced euphoria – it was used in ceremonies by priests who were about to be sacrificed so that they were nice and cheerful.

Back at the hotel, the correspondents retired for a snooze (nothing new there apparently and I admire their style) while the female human relaxed and the male human checked out the swimming pool – yes a swimming pool in a jungle!

They were back by late afternoon to pick me up and we all enjoyed a last evening together.   Having obviously forgotten their Guatemalan pizza experience the boys ordered a medium Pepperoni each – need I say more???

This time I decided to lick Aunty Helen’s arms and face in bed and indulged in some marvellous rabbit chasing and kicking and even snorting supposedly – although I very much doubt it myself.

The next morning it was time to say goodbye to my correspondents but not before a photo opportunity with the T shirts.

Then with a heavy heart we walked them up their 4×4 and waved them off. They left with a bag full of our old charts of our last couple of seasons, which they were really pleased about and left us with a load of spares and other boat bits which we had ordered in the UK and they had brought out with them.

Unable to bear that this was the last time they would see me and the humans they had already decided they would come and crew for us when we go through the Panama canal next December so we will all see each other again – hooray. I wonder if Aunty Helen will bring me another rope ball to make up for the one that she bounced into the river and if Uncle Steve will bring me another 2 kilos full of chews.

Groan – I wish I hadn’t eaten 10 chews in a row…..