This is a male quetzal, the national bird of Guatemala. And, yes, that tail and those colors are totally real.

Spotting quetzals during our time at Ranchito del Quetzal was eerily easy. All we had to do was get out of bed at first light and stumble down to the restaurant where as many as 10 quetzals at a time dutifully came out to greet us. However, our next attempt to see these technicolor birds, at Chelemhá Cloud Forest Reserve, was much harder work right from the get-go.

Getting to Chelemhá

First there was the matter of getting to the privately owned and run Chelemhá Cloud Forest Reserve, a 400 acre (172 hectare) chunk of land in the Yalijux Mountains in the Alta Verapaz region of Guatemala. We’ve driven to many places on the Trans-Americas Journey where we were told we’d need our 4×4 toughness. Often we got to the end of the road and realized that a rental car could have handled the road. Not this time.

We waved goodbye to pavement just a few miles past Ranchito del Quetzal and turned onto a well-graded dirt road. The biggest obstacle on this section was the number of road work trucks and pieces of big machinery since teams were busy prepping this section for pavement. Roughly two hours later we reached the town of Tucuru and turned off toward the reserve.

Road conditions remained perfectly acceptable until we reached the tiny town of Nuevo Vinaroz where the road took a turn for the worse with very deep ruts and seriously big rocks. From here on out the road was quite rough but mostly no big deal as long we drove very, very slowly. More or less three hours into the journey steep inclines were added to the mix as we climbed up above 7,500 feet (2,300 meters) where the reserve is located.

Some sections of the road were so steep that concrete strips had been poured on the ground at roughly wheel width for traction. We actually nearly overheated the engine for the first time on the entire Journey during some particularly slow, steep climbs and we had to pull over three times to let the engine cool down which gave us time to admire our surroundings and not just the road ahead.

Conservation, Chelemhá style

Chelemhá Lodge in the remote Chelemhá Cloud Forest Reserve in Guatemala.

We reached the reserve about four hours after turning off the pavement and it took about 10 seconds to fall in love. The narrow,  three-story, all-wood Chelemhá Lodge seems to spring out of a steep, tree-covered incline–not exactly natural, but totally appropriate.

Opened in 2005, profits from the lodge, which is owned and managed by a conservation group called Unión para Proteger el Bosque Nuboso (Union for Protecting the Cloud Forest) or UPROBON for short, are used to maintain the current reserve, enable the purchase of more land for protection and to fund projects including reforestation (UPROBON has planted more than 40,000 trees so far), local staff training and collaborations with the local Mayan Q’eqchi’ community including an eco-education program.

Supporting land conservation and animal habitat, spreading eco-awareness and enabling the local Mayan community aren’t the only reasons to visit the lodge.

A cloud forest cabin

Chelemhá’s Swiss/German ownership is evident in the simple yet gorgeous and efficient design and craftsmanship of the four room lodge which was made primarily from wood salvaged from fallen trees on the property. The construction has a minimalist, arts-and-crafts look and feel with hand made furniture, handy built-ins everywhere, a central circular staircase and clever nooks and crannies that make the most of the small spaces.

The cabin chic of Chelemhá Lodge in the remote Chelemhá Cloud Forest Reserve in Guatemala.

Even the candles (there’s no electricity) are handmade using the waxy fruit of the arrayan tree, just as the Mayans do. Shoes are not allowed inside the lodge (bring inside shoes or non-slip socks or slippers) and there’s a stash of rubber boots for use outside when it’s wet and muddy. This is a cloud forest after all.

Meals are prepared in an open kitchen using ingredients grown on an adjacent organic farm by host/manager/conservationist/cook Armin Schumacher, a Swiss man who’s been here for 14 years. The whole place is heated by a big cast iron wood-burning stove which also heats all the water needed for showers and cooking.

Host, conservationist, organic farmer and cook Armin Schumacher with some local, organic plums he was about to turn into delicious cobbler and jam at Chelemhá Lodge in the remote Chelemhá Cloud Forest Reserve in Guatemala.

Two levels of the lodge have wrap-around decks with feeders on every corner. These attract at least half a dozen different types of hummingbirds. So many hummingbirds visit the lodge that Armin has started collecting donations for the sugar he needs to make the syrup these tiny birds consume at an alarming rate.

Hummingbirds at Chelemhá Lodge.

Chelemhá Lodge with just some of the land that's protected as part of the Chelemhá Cloud Forest Reserve in Guatemala.

A cloud forest quetzal nest

Hummingbirds are great, but we’d driven up to Chelemhá to see quetzals. The morning after our arrival we got up at 4:30, roused by the dinosaur-like sounds of a troop of howler monkeys and the delicious smells from the kitchen where Armin was busy making an enormous breakfast of fruit, granola, homemade bread, strong coffee, steel-cut oatmeal and eggs.

Hiking up to find quetzals in land protected as part of the Chelemhá Cloud Forest Reserve in Guatemala.

At 6:00 am local guide Rojeño arrived and we headed up, up, up into the high reaches of the reserve. A three mile (4.5 km) trail switch-backed its way past a few agricultural plots, into secondary growth forest making a comeback now that it’s protected then into dense primary cloud forest. Suddenly we were surrounded by enormous old giants which remind us of the sequoias in California–only here they’re draped in moss and mist.

This is where the quetzals thrive and it wasn’t long before Rojeño pointed out a tree trunk with the top missing. Though it was still rooted in the ground, the tree was dead and hollow. About midway up the trunk there was a round hole and inside that hole was a quetzal nest.

This male quetzal emerged from its nest inside a hollow tree trunk and posed for us on a nearby branch in the Chelemhá Cloud Forest Reserve in Guatemala.

We staked out the nest and, after about half an hour, a male quetzal emerge from the hole and flew to a nearby branch where he began calling, flicking his elegant tail with every chirp. Incredibly, the bird remained on the branch for another 30 minutes, undisturbed by our picture taking. At times it almost seemed like he was posing.

We saw two more quetzals in the upper reaches of the reserve before descending back down to the lodge, satisfied.

This male Quetzal emerged from its nest in a hollow tree trunk then posed for us on a nearby branch in the Chelemhá Cloud Forest Reserve in Guatemala.

This horned passalid beetle we encountered on a trail through the Chelemhá Cloud Forest Reserve was big enough to fill the palm of your hand.

A Guatemalan emerald spiny lizard spotted on a trail through the Chelemhá Cloud Forest Reserve.

A bushy crested jay having breakfast near one of the wrap-around porches at the Chelemhá Lodge in Guatemala.

Organically grown plums from the neighboring farm which supplies food to the Chelemhá Lodge in Guatemala.

Related posts:

1. Photo of the Day: Resplendent Quetzal – Chelemhá Cloud Forest Reserve, Guatemala
2. Bucolic Basecamps – Mountain Pine Ridge Forest Reserve, Belize
3. Quetzals the Easy Way – Biotopo de Quetzal, Guatemala

Welcome to quetzal country in Guatemala.

The quetzal is Guatemala’s national bird and their money is named after it. It’s also one of the most impossible looking species on the planet. The bird has iridescent feathers that change from bright green to dark blue to nearly black as the light shifts. Its overall color scheme includes an eye-popping mix of neon green, red, blue, yellow and white. The feathers on its tiny head are like a fluffy mohawk. Strange finger-like feathers seem to wrap around from its back toward the front of its chest as if to hug the bird. Its eyes are beady and black.The males sport tail feathers than can be more than three feet (one meter) long.

A quetzal is pictured on the eponymously named Guatemalan currency.

The holy grail of birding

A male quetzal in a trumpet tree, one of their favorites, above the restaurant at the Ranchito del Quetzal guesthouse in Guatemala.

Quetzals are also incredibly shy and prefer a very specific cloud forest habitat that only exists in a few places on earth. This makes the quetzal a must-spot for most birders and, frankly, for non-birders like us too. And so we headed for the Biotopo Mario Dary Rivera nature reserve, more commonly called the Biotopo de Quetzal in the Verapaz region of Guatemala in search of this unbelievably showy yet famously hard to spot bird.

Timing is (almost) everything

A male quetzal near the restaurant at the Ranchito del Quetzal guesthouse in Guatemala.

Quetzals are “easiest” to see from March to June. That’s their mating season so they’re more active and this is also when the males’ tail feathers gain full length and splendor. We arrived in quetzal country in May with fingers crossed.

Location, location, location

We’d heard the rumors that quetzal sightings were practically guaranteed at a little guesthouse right next to the Biotopo de Quetzal called Ranchito del Quetzal Hotel & Restaurant. Whenever we hear the words “guaranteed” in association with any kind of animal sighting we roll our eyes. But we checked in anyway after driving past their sad, faded sign on the highway.

Yep, a renowned place to see quetzals is right on a major road. That’s really the only drawback at the Ranchito. The rooms are simple concrete block affairs but comfortable enough for  180Q (about US$23). There are great hiking trails on the guesthouse’s property (which literally shares a fence with the biotopo) and the owners, Flori and Don Julio, could not be more charming–even when they were knocking on our door before sun up asking “Quiren ver las quetzales?” (Do you want to see quetzals?).

A male quetzal in flight.

Quetzals and coffee

A male quetzal in a tree near the restaurant at the Ranchito del Quetzal guesthouse in Guatemala. Though this bird looks blue that's just a trick of the light on its iridescent feathers.

We threw on clothes, grabbed binoculars and cameras and did our best to quietly hurry down to the restaurant where Flori had set out plastic chairs and made coffee. Don Julio, meanwhile, was calmly pointing at a trumpet tree (guarumo in Spanish) less than 40 feet (12 meters) away. Up in its branches was a male quetzal. Just like that. Quetzals love the fruit of the trumpet tree. Knowing that, Don Julio planted loads of them on his property years ago and now the quetzals know they can come here and eat.

We sat there in our comfy chairs sipped hot coffee and admired the birds for a couple of hours. As the sun came up we looked forward to really seeing their brilliant colors but the birds seemed to dislike the sun. They almost seemed to hide from it, waiting for a patch of clouds to obscure it before flying or feeding again.

Don’t hate us because they’re beautiful

A male quetzal in a trumpet tree, one of their favorites, above the restaurant at the Ranchito del Quetzal guesthouse in Guatemala.

That same scenario repeated itself the next morning, minus the knock on the door since we now knew the routine. At one point we counted more than 10 quetzals in the same tree. It was getting ridiculous. To be honest these sightings came so easily they were almost anticlimactic. We certainly didn’t fell like we earned them. We never even set foot in the Biotopo del Quetzal. Hell, we barely had to get out of bed.

So we decided to visit a remote, privately owned nature preserve called Chelemha where we would have to work for our quetzals.

A female quetzal. Only the males grow long tail feathers.

Related posts:

1. Photo of the Day: Resplendent Quetzal – Chelemhá Cloud Forest Reserve, Guatemala
2. Quetzals the Hard Way – Chelemhá Cloud Forest Reserve, Guatemala
3. Troubled but Trying – Guatemala City, Guatemala

The Sierra de las Cuchumatanes mountains, the highest non-Volcanic range in Central America, rise up behind a village in Guatemala.

Chiabal The blink-and-you’ll-miss-it village of Chiabal is perched on a wide, sheep-speckled plateau at nearly 11,000 feet. From here the road drops down into Todos Santos roughly 45 minutes away. Travelers headed to Todos Santos probably don’t even notice this wide (and windy) spot in the road, however, Chiabal makes a great base camp for anyone interested in the non-technical hike up La Torre, the hightest non-volcanic peak in Central America at 12,588 feet (3,837 meters). In the spring of 2011, wood and stone cabañas opened in Chiabal. It’s not luxury, but the dorm-style, shared bathroom cabañas for up to six people are well-built and well situated (233Q, or about US$30, per person per day includes accommodation, three meals and a local guide for the Piedras Cuache trail, add 25Q per person for a guide up La Torre). For more information or to make reservations, call Esteban Matías at +502-5381 0540.

Villagers that live in the high-altitude plateaus of Guatemala's Cuchumatanes mountains ingeniously use magay plants as fencing.

Laguna Magdalena Golden, wind-swept, high-altitude meadows punctuated by random rocky outbursts in front of a brilliant blue sky backdrop had convinced us that the Cuchumatanes mountains were the most guapo (handsome) natural place in Guatemala, so we didn’t really mind being pretty much totally lost as we tried to find Laguna Magdalena.

It's easy to get the impression that there are more sheep than people in the stunning Sierra de las Cuchumatanes mountains in Guatemala.

The scenery just got more and more gorgeous the closer we got to the lake. At least we hoped we were getting closer. With a terminal scarcity of signs and an even greater scarcity of people (there are more sheep than humans up here) we drove around and hoped we were on the right track for more than an hour. With luck, we got near the lake then came across some locals who happily gave us directions. They were obviously proud of the lake and even prouder that someone was coming to see it. A shocking number of them also spoke perfect English–left over from time spent working in the United States.

Lovely (but kinda hard to find) Laguna Magdalena in the Sierra de las Cuchumatanes mountains in Guatemala.

Laguna Magdalena was worth all the effort. A lovely trail winds down from the dirt road to the lake itself and after about 10 minutes we reached the water which has a natural infinity-edge formation that makes it seem like the petite lake (more of a pond) is spilling into oblivion. Fancy hotels and resorts pay thousands to get the effect which mother nature has achieved here for free. Assuming you can find the lake, there’s now a great place to stay at Laguna Magdalena. Also in the spring of 2011, a community tourism project also opened at the lake including six river stone and wood cabañas a short distance above the lake itself (155 Quetzales, or about US$20, per person per day for accommodation, three meals per day and a local guide). For more information, contact Fabiola Rojas at fabiola.rojas.t.@gmail (dot) com or call +502 5378 0849.

Bungalows built as part of a community tourism project at gorgeous Laguna Magadalena in the Sierra de las Cuchumatanes mountains in Guatemala.

We were also tempted to camp at the lake in one of two large gazebos (one at the lake, another slightly above it) but at 10,000 feet (3,048 meters) and a posted ban on campfires we were afraid we’d be too cold. Chajul It’s not all open spaces in the Cuchumatanaes. On the other end of the mountain range lie towns like Nebaj (which we found dusty and uninteresting) and small villages exist up here too, including the Ixil Mayan town of Chajul. Heavily targetted during Guatemala’s merciless 36 year civil war, Chajul today has a languid market populated primarily by women in bright and pleasing huipils(traditional, hand made boxy shirts).

Women on market day in the town of Chajul sporting typically bright indigenous dress. Their own special touch is the head wrap with pompoms on the ends.

Women on market day in the town of Chajul sporting typically bright indigenous dress. Their own special touch is the head wrap with pompoms on the ends.

The most distinctive elements of the indigenous outfit in Chajul are colorful lengths of hand-loomed fabric wrapped around the women’s heads with fluffy pompoms on either end. It makes their heads look like festively-wrapped gifts.

Women on market day in the town of Chajul sporting typically bright indigenous dress. Their own special touch is the head wrap with pompoms on the ends.

Women on market day in the town of Chajul sporting typically bright indigenous dress. Their own special touch is the head wrap with pompoms on the ends.

We were told of a guesthouse in Chajul called Posada Xalkat which was built by an NGO. When we finally found the guest house (it’s below town) it looked lovely but, sadly, no one was around to open it up. Perhaps yet another example of good intentions (NGO support) with a fatal lack follow up (no one on staff). A pity, since Chajul offered up some of the most remarkable clothing, color and (unsinkable) culture in the Cuchumatanes and is certainly worth a visit.

The church in Chajul, a small town in the Sierra de las Cuchumatanes mountains in Guatemala.

Locals making traditional offerings at the church in Chajul, a small town in the Sierra de las Cuchumatanes mountains in Guatemala.

Inside the church in Chajul, a small town in the Sierra de las Cuchumatanes mountains in Guatemala.

Traditional Mayan rituals and Catholic customs mix inside the church in Chajul, a small town in the Sierra de las Cuchumatanes mountains in Guatemala.

A Mayan woman finds her God in her way inside the church in Chajul, a small town in the Sierra de las Cuchumatanes mountains in Guatemala.

Related posts:

1. Sacred Spaces – Xela (Quetzaltenango) & Laguna Chicabal, Guatemala
2. Mayan Moats – Laguna Petexbatún & Aguateca Archaeological Site, Guatemala
3. Franciscan Missions of the Sierra Gorda – Queretaro State, Mexico

Traditional dress is seen all over Guatamala, but the deep colors, pronounced stripes, jaunty hats and elaborate embroidery stand out in Todos Santos.

No more rough roads

We are happy to report that getting to the mountain town of Todos Santos from Huehuetenango no longer involves roads so rough that they re-arrange your organs. The entire route was paved except for a 30 minute section into town and even that stretch of dirt was in good shape.

Many families in Todos Santos have at least one member working in the US and they paint US flags everything from homes to grave sites in tribute.

Once we reached Todos Santos two things surprised us. First, Todos Santos is much bigger and much more cosmopolitan than we expected.

Which leads us to the second surprise: US flags everywhere. So many people from Todos Santos have spent time working in the United States and sending money back to their families that town is adorned with US flags.

Most commonly they’re painted on homes which were built using money sent back from the US and on the concrete above-ground graves in the local cemetery.

Life at 8,000 feet

What shouldn’t come as a surprise was the cold. Todos Santos is at more than 8,000′ (2,450 meters). This translated into extremely cold nights in an unheated room under very heavy blankets in Hotel Casa Familiar.

Our Lonely Planet description of this hotel had us expecting very, very basic rooms at a budget price. The reality, however, is that this hotel has two very nice rooms with more on the way. One room has a fireplace, the other has a kitchen. At 100Q (about US$12) per person neither room has a budget price tag, but they’re big and spotless and have each has a lovely furnished patio. We went for the room with the kitchen since dining options in Todos Santos are, shall we say, limited.

Nearly every resident of Todos Santos wears traditional clothes which are loomed, dyed and embroidered by hand.

Hotel Casa Familiar is run by a local woman named Christina who also runs the women’s co-operative shop downstairs. The shop is stocked with items made by local women and each piece has a tag on it with the name of the woman who made it. You can buy the traditional Todos Santos style pants and shirts here (more on that later) as well as more tourist-ready items like a beautiful yoga mat carrying bag made out of hand-loomed fabric in a traditional pattern.

Crowds gather in front of the church in Todos Santos. It's gotta be hard to tell who's who...

Todos Santos style

With so much living Mayan culture in Guatemala, almost every region has its own distinct and colorful way of dressing. All of it is elaborate and and almost universally worn, even among the men who, in most cultures, are the first ones to make the switch to boring old jeans and a t-shirt.

Shoes are the one item of dress that varies in Todos Santos. Here, a man gets his white cowboy boots polished.

The younger generation is starting to customize their clothing. Here, a teenager has had his mom embroider a Nike logo onto the back of his otherwise traditional shirt.

We’ve loved all of the traditional clothing that we’ve seen in Guatemala, but it’s hard to beat Todos Santos style, particularly among the men and boys who all wear red pants with white  stripes, a blue and purple shirt with an extra-wide hand-embroidered collar and a jaunty straw hat with an embroidered band.

The younger generation is starting to customize their outfits with touches like an extra droopy homeboy fit to the pants and international brand names embroidered on. It was fun to see this creativity and even more fun to imagine a 15-year-old in Todos Santos explaining to his mother why he wants her to stitch a Nike logo onto the

A tree farm, funded by a Canadian NGO, helps address deforestation problems in and around Todos Santos, Guatemala.

back of the traditional shirt she just made for him…

By the way, we recently read an interesting theory that “indigenous regional clothing” was actually imposed by the Spanish when they ruled the region as a way of knowing, at a glance, where a person came from based solely on what they were wearing. If you can support or debunk this theory let us know!

Men gather as New Year's celebrations gear up in Todos Santos, Guatemala.

New Year, new hangover

We timed our visit to Todos Santos to coincide with New Year’s celebrations and so did lots of others. There weren’t any other travelers in town for the event, but lots of family members had returned home to celebrate.

It is not a party in Guatemala without marimba players.

We met a man named Pedro who had been working in the United States for 23 years. He’d just gotten his green card which allowed him to return home to Todos Santos for the first time since he left for the US. His elation at being home and his pride in Todos Santos were palpable. Though he loves his life in the US and would be returning to Nebraska after the holiday, he could hardly wait for his aunt to put the finishing touches on his traditional outfit.

A sea of blue and purple in Todos Santos, Guatemala.

Over the New Year normally tranquil Todos Santos transforms into a town full of men sharing some kind of sinister liquid which is consumed in quantity resulting in epic stumbling, mumbling and falling down. It’s mostly messy but harmless. However, we did encounter a young local who practically fell under an oncoming truck, then collapsed on the curb in tears. In the drunken madness he’d lost his friends and now he was (far) too drunk to find them.

The two room, open-air jail in Todos Santos where many drunks slept it off during New Year's celebrations.

Though there were many drunk men staggering through town most were harmless–even amusing. The few that got out of hand were rounded up by the police and tossed into a jail straight out of Gunsmoke. Two 10′ X 10′ concrete rooms with gated doors, located right out in the open across the street from the square, were quickly full of men in various stages of drunkenness or epic-looking hangovers.

The lucky ones were visited by family members bearing food. The unlucky ones were visited by family members screaming at them through the bars on the door.

You really need video to get the full staggering, slurring, sloppy effect of the (mostly harmless) borrachos in Todos Santos. Luckily, we shot some.

TIP

We noticed substantially more children asking for “un quetzal” or “un dulce” in and around Todos Santos. Instead of handing out money or candy we hoard bars of soap and packets of shampoo when they’re supplied in the guesthouses where we spend the night and hand those out instead.

GJ25XF5YYEP2

Related posts:

1. The Town Time Almost Forgot – Alamos, Sonora, Mexico
2. Tiny Town – Belmopan, Belize
3. Cortés the Settler (welcome to the first town in the New World) – Veracruz State, Mexico

Welcome to Cockcomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary in Belize, the world's first jaguar sanctuary.

Of course, we arrived at the sanctuary hoping to see a jaguar and we did our best to increase our chances of a sighting.

First, we decided to camp in the sanctuary. This was not a hard decision because the lodging option in Maya Village, the nearest “town” to the sanctuary, are not cheap and not great (we paid US$25 for a grotty, basic room with a shared bathroom at Nu’uk Che’il Cottages the first night because it was late by the time we arrived).

Also, the campground in the sanctuary happens to be awesome. A large, grassy area has palapa-covered, flat tent sites plus an outhouse and an area for cooking over a fire with ample firewood supplied. There’s even a rain-water cistern. The camping fee of US$5 per person also includes access to a well-equipped communal kitchen that’s shared with anyone else staying in the sanctuary’s other basic accommodations which includes a dorm and shared or private cabins.

A big plus about camping here (besides the bargain price and great facilities) is being in the sanctuary itself where mornings and evenings, in particular, were heralded with a symphony of jungle noises. Sadly, none of them were jaguar growls…

At 3,688 feet Victoria Peak, seen in the distance, is the second highest mountain in Belize.

Staying in the sanctuary also allowed us to just wander away from our tent at dusk and stroll down the dirt road that runs through this corner of the sanctuary in the evenings, which is when the cats start to get active. We saw gibnut (picture a huge hamster), tiny brocket deer and a small yellow bird fast asleep on a branch during our night walks and we even got what we believe was a fleeting glance at a margay, but no jaguar.

Camping in the sanctuary also put us in the perfect position for hiking. Most of the Cockscomb sanctuary is totally undeveloped and set aside as a true human-free haven. However, a small area has been developed for human use and it offers 12 miles of gorgeous trails, beautiful waterfalls and swimming holes and a meandering river perfect for tubing (tubes area available for rent  for US$2.50 a day).

The super-ambitious can even climb to the top of Victoria Peak in the Cockscomb Mountains via a trail through the sanctuary. At 3,688 feet, Victoria Peak is the second highest mountains in Belize and it takes most people three to five days to summit and return.

We stuck to the trails within the basin and the foothills.

Our own private swimming hole at the end of the Tiger Fern trail in the Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary in Belize.

First we hiked the 4 mile (round trip) Tiger Fern trail which delivered some steep sections before we reached the pay off: two waterfalls with swimming holes. While we cooled off in the deep, clear, wonderful swimming hole beneath the upper falls a tiny hummingbird darted in and out of the waterfall spray, apparently taking a shower. A short climb above the waterfalls leads to an overlook with good views of Victoria Peak and the Cockscomb range–so named because its ridge line looks like a rooster’s comb.

A hummingbird takes a bath in one of two waterfalls accessed via the Tiger Fern trail in the Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary in Belize.

The next day we tackled the various easy walks in the basin itself with eyes mostly glued to the trail since there are deadly fer-de-lance snakes here. Then we headed up the 3.2 mile (round trip) Ben’s Bluff trail. Less steep than Tiger Fern, this trail also leads to a great waterfall.

A stand of hobbit-ready trees in a seasonally-dry mangrove area within the Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary in Belize.

A stand of hobbit-ready trees in a seasonally-dry mangrove area within the Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary in Belize.

Perhaps the ugliest jaguar sign we've ever seen...

Cockscomb is also home (or on the migration path) for hundreds of species of birds including scarlet macaws (best seen around noon when the heat inspires them to roost in the shade), swooping parrots and huge guans.

Special thanks to Abel, a guide from Ian Anderson’s Caves Branch Adventure Co. & Jungle Lodge, who turned up in Cockscomb to do some early morning bird scouting and allowed us to tag along. Abel pointed out many birds that our untrained eyes might never have seen, including these…

A laughing falcon in the Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary in Belize.

A black-headed Trogan in the Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary in Belize.

A violaceous trogan in the Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary in Belize.

A lineated woodpecker in the Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary in Belize.

A tiger heron in the Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary in Belize.

A boat-billed heron in the Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary in Belize.

GLAD WE HAD

Even professional guides are impressed with our SureFire flashlights which helped us see all kinds of critters during night walks in the Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary.

Our ExOfficio Bugs Away pants and shirts, impregnated with Insect Shield repellent, kept the mosquitoes at bay so we could really enjoy our campsite.

Because we had the campground all to ourselves we took over a second palapa and strung up our Hennessy Hammocks for afternoon napping.

[geo_mashup_map]

Related posts:

1. Belize Briefs: Tips, Quirks & Foibles After 2.5 Months in Belize
2. Our Latest Work: Gators. Tent. Swamp. Really. – Okefenokee National Wildlife Reserve, Georgia
3. The Birds! – Belize

But not before picking up a military escort. Because the Caracol archaeological site is so close to the border with Guatemala the area has seen some illegal border crossings with Guatemalans sneaking into Belize to find work or to harvest things from the still-pristine jungle in the parkland on the Belize side of the border–including a palm frond called xate that’s used by international floral companies.

There are many regulations--including a military escort--which need to be followed in order to visit the Caracol archaeological site in Belize.

Guatemalans and Belizean officials have had violent clashes in this border area, so now all tourists who want to visit Caracol are required to arrive at a nearby military check point by 9 am and then convoy up into a line of vehicles lead by a military escort to the site itself. It’s dramatic and sort of a pain in the neck, but once at the Caracol site you are free to explore on your own. After touring the site, a few of us left in our own un-escorted convoy for the return trip.

Caana (which means sky place) is the main temple at the Caracol archaeological site in Belize and at 141 feet high it's still the tallest structure in the country.

Caracol has been dated to the Maya Classic period and at it’s peak it was one of the largest Mayan cities with more than 140,000 inhabitants. The site is currently being excavated and studied by Dr. Arlen Chase and Dr. Diane Chase.

Caracol is not a huge site, but what’s excavated is spectacular. The main temple, Caana (which means sky place) is 141 feet high making it the tallest building in Belize even today.

Caana (which means sky place) is the main temple at the Caracol archaeological site in Belize and at 141 feet high it's still the tallest structure in the country.

If you’re interested in doing more than just gawking at the Caana temple, keep tabs on the progress of a new tour being put together by Ka’ana Resort & Spa in San Ignacio. When the details are all worked out, they hope to helicopter the well-heeled from their resort to Caracol where guests will get a guided tour of Caracol, then enjoy a gourmet dinner at the site followed by an overnight on top of  the Caana temple in a real bed.  After a gourmet breakfast, a helicopter takes guests back to the resort. It won’t be cheap, but it will be spectacular.

Frieze work on an upper temple of the Caana temple at the Caracol archaeological site in Belize.

The view from the top of the Caana temple.

Check out the panoramic view of the jungle around the Caracol archaeological site in this video we shot from the top of the Caana temple.

The Temple of the Wooden Lintel at the Caracol archaeological site in Belize.

A mask at the Caracol archaeological site in Belize.

Plaza A at the Caracol archaeological site in Belize.

Caracol, the largest Mayan archaeological site in Belize.

Caracol, the largest Mayan archaeological site in Belize.

A restored residential area at the Caracol archaeological site in Belize.

An impressive pair of ceiba trees at the Caracol archaeological site--the Maya considered the ceiba to be a sacred link to the underworld.

On our way out of Caracol we made a short detour to check out the Rio Frio Cave. More of a tunnel or a tube, this petite and peaceful formation requires little more than a stroll from the parking area through the cave (along a path that does not require wading through the stream that runs through the cave) and back again. There were a few rudimentary camping areas near the mouth of the cave too.

The very accessible Rio on Frio Cave, near the military checkpoint on the dirt road to/from the Caracol archaeological site, is really more of a tunnel.

[geo_mashup_map]

Related posts:

1. Survivor Mayan Style – Yaxha Archaeological Site, Guatemala
2. Skulls and Stelae – Lubaantun & Nim Li Punit Archaeological Sites, Belize
3. Archaeological Index: Mayan (and other) Sites We’ve Visited

You can thank the Germans. More than 100 years ago the Mexican government sent out a call for help to Germany saying it would welcome immigrants willing to develop and then work coffee growing and processing plantations in the highlands of Chiapas which had been identified as prime coffee growing terrain.

Coffee on the bush in Chiapas, Mexico. The red beans are nearly ripe.

At the time, every harvested coffee bean (then referred to as “green gold”) in the world passed through the port in Hamburg, Germany  before being distributed around the world so reaching out to Germany for help made sense. Many German families answered the call and soon the hills were alive with coffee.

Then came WWII and deep suspicion of Germans which eventually lead to deportations and land reclamation that saw some German families in Mexico lose it all. When they were able to return to Mexico many were asked to buy back their own land.

Today, coffee is flourishing in Chiapas. There are up to 400 million coffee plants producing here and many coffee fincas (farms) are still run by descendants of the original pioneering German families. A few of them have expanded their plantations to also offer tours, boutique hotels and innovative new eco farming practices.

Two of them lie above the town of Tapachula in the highlands of Soconusco, Chiapas–an area referred to as the Ruta de Cafe.

The beneficio (processing plant) at Finca Hamburgo, one of many coffee plantations in Chiapas.

Finca Hamburgo

Finca Hamburgo was founded in 1888 by Arthur Erich Edelmann from Perleberg, Germany and his wife Doris Mertens. Like all of the coffee pioneers in Mexico, the Edelmann family had to plant thousands of coffee plants on incredibly steep hillsides and build facilities for the processing of coffee (they put in the first flying fox in Mexico) and run it all using power from their own hydroelectric plant.

Finca Hambrugo is still run by descendants of Arthur Erich Edelmann, but a few other things have changed since 1888, as we found out when we were invited to visit. But first we had to get there. Though just a few dozen miles from the town of Tapachula, the journey up into the coffee growing region takes at least an hour on a well-worn dirt road (no rental cars, please).

Still it’s an easier journey today than back in the late 1800s when the fincas were established. At that time it took three days to get from Tapachula to the plantations. Once we reached Finca Hamburgo at 4,100 feet we were rewarded with cooler temperatures and views of Volcan Tacaná (the highest point in Central America at 13,320 feet (4,060 meters) on the border between Mexico and Guatemala. On a very, very clear day it’s also possible to see the Chiapas coastline from here.

Karen enjoying a sunrise cup of coffee grown on site and delivered to our door at Finca Hamburgo.

Finca Hamburgo continues as a working coffee plantation (one of the largest) but it’s now also in the tourism business offering six rooms and two suites, all with deep wrap-around porches–perfect for enjoying those views and your morning coffee. The hotel looks and feels a bit like two big Cape Codders plunked down on a ridge in Chiapas. There’s also a restaurant where you can get German beer.

The Cape Cod-esque guest rooms at Finca Hamburgo in Chiapas, Mexico.

Burlap sacks for coffee grown and processed at Finca Hamburgo in Chiapas, Mexico.

More rustic but incredibly atmospheric rooms (tile floors, patios, heavy wood beams) are sometimes available at Finca San Francisco, the operation’s flower farm where exotic flowers are grown in huge hothouses before being washed, trimmed and meticulously packed (sometimes shrink-wrapped) and shipped to big floral companies overseas.

Exotic flowers being grown for export at Finca San Francisco, the hothouse flower portion of the Finca Hamburgo coffee plantation in Chiapas, Mexico.

Finca Hamburgo has also turned part of its original processing plant (called a beneficio) into a museum full of photos and tools and other artifacts from the plantations early days in the late 1800s, including what’s left of its ground-breaking flying fox.

Coffee beans drying in the sun at Finca Argovia.

An even better example of how to take coffee history forward with insight and innovation is Finca Argovia, down the hill from Finca Hamburgo on the way back down to Tapachula.

Finca Argovia

Sure there’s a hotel at Finca Argovia and it’s a member of the prestigious Tesoros Hotel Group offering a lovely collection of beautiful wooden cabins in the jungle that we really loved. There are three cabins for two people, three larger family cabins, one two-room suite and one Casa Grande with a kitchen and everything. All of them are well-appointed, stylish, peaceful and really impart a sense of place.

Our cabin at Finca Argovia.

There are no TVs or phones but there are fresh cut flowers (more on those in a minute) and fun golf carts to shuttle you around the cobble stone paths back to the main building and the restaurant where staff are trained for days in the art of brewing the perfect cup of coffee. The welcome “cocktail” is a petite scoop of powerfully addictive homemade coffee ice cream and when we were there a new pool, spa and luxury tent accommodation were all in the works. We already want to go back and check it out.

This massive coffee dryer at Finca Argovia is well over than 50 years old and still going strong.

But the hotel, spa and restaurant are just part of  the vision of Bruno Geismann, the fourth generation of his family to run Finca Argovia, and his overall goal of being totally self-sufficient economically and totally sustainable agriculturally.

Bruno, an imposing combination of German physique and Mexican mannerisms, believes diversification is the best way to offset the vagaries of coffee prices which can spike and drop drastically. Bruno poses a convincing argument that coffee really should be about $200 a pound in the supermarket based on the cost of producing it and the amount many people are willing to spend on a cup of coffee (Starbucks, again).

Relax. Bruno doesn’t actually propose that we should all pay $200 a pound–just that $8 or $11 a pound is clearly too little. In addition, he insists that Fair Trade coffee movements have done little to trickle retail level coffee profits down to the actual coffee growers who still get pennies per pound.

Bruno’s growing success with a combination of working coffee plantation, luxurious lodge/spa/restaurant and eco-agro flower business is radical thinking and a radical investment in the coffee business where profit margins are often pennies. It’s also the best way for Bruno to prove that his green leanings are also good business.

We were surprised to learn that burlap sacks used to pack and ship coffee beans are one of the priciest items in the production of coffee.

As a visitor you can tour Bruno’s labors on a two hour sunrise hike up through his jungle-shaded coffee plants to a lovely mirador for views of Volcan Tacaná (with a thermos of fresh coffee, of course) or sign up for coffee processing and flower production tours–which Bruno was kind enough to lead us on.

Bruno is a passionate eco-agriculturist and very proud of the fact that his coffee is organically grown and that his processing is done using hydroelectric energy generated at the finca. His processing also uses a minimum of water and what is used to clean, de-hull and ferment the coffee beans is treated at an on-site residual water treatment plant–the only one of its kind in Mexico–before being returned to the gorgeous rivers on his property. The discarded coffee hulls, usually a waste product of coffee processing, are used as compost at Finca Argovia.

Even Bruno’s machinery is recycled, sort of. Most of it is original to the 100+ year old business and it’s still chugging along.

Sunrise behind Guatemala's Volcan Tacaná--the highest point in Central America--as seen from the hilltop mirador at Finca Argovia in Chiapas, Mexico.

With so much land and such a need to diversify his business, Bruno quickly saw the potential in growing ornamental tropical flowers. Today he has devoted many acres to growing haliconias, orchids, ginger blossoms and other exotics which he gets around 10 pesos for (less than US$1). per stem Anyone reading this in North America or Europe knows that each stem of these coveted flowers goes for many dollars apiece through your local florist or online flower seller.

Finca Argovia also works to protect and enrich soil, preserve indigenous forests and keep trees along all streams and rivers to conserve water.

Part of the labor-intensive process of harvesting, washing and packing the organically grown exotic flowers at Finca Argovia.

Bruno says his eco approach is not making him rich, but he is able to turn a small profit more easily since his fortunes are not completely tied to the traditional coffee market. The results are delicious too. Finca Argovia’s small-batch organic coffee is sold around the world and served in some very fine restaurants, including the restaurant at the celeb-favorite five-star hotel Maroma on Mexico’s Riviera Maya.

Haliconia flowers ready for packing and shipping to floral companies around the world.

Finca Argovia is profiting in other ways too. Our cabin (like all of them) was right in the middle of the jungle but there were almost no mosquitoes. We could sit on the gorgeous porch at dusk and not get bitten. Incredible. This is, according to Bruno, because the environment at Finca Argovia is finally back in balance.

So much so that Finca Argovia has earned certifications from The Rainforest Alliance, USDA, Organic Farming, JAS and bird-friendly organizations concerned with promoting coffee cultivation which retains bird habitat. Things are so healthy in the forest around Finca Argovia that an independent audit of birds on the property found more than 150
species and the rare resplendent quetzal has also been spotted nearby.

Why more bird watchers don’t come to Finca Argovia is a mystery: you’ve got world-class birds and world-class coffee to help you get up at dawn to see them…

Our thanks to both fincas for teaching us how to drink coffee without putting milk in it. It’s not hard. Just drink good coffee.

The cafe/bar area at Finca Argovia.

More Chiapas coffee.

Sunset over hillsides covered in coffee bushes in Chiapas, Mexico.

[geo_mashup_map]

Related posts:

1. Mayan Hill Country – Ruta Puuc, Yucatan State, Mexico
2. Zapatista Signs of the Times – Chiapas, Mexico
3. Mujeres y Mayans – Tapachula, Chiapas, Mexico

The other day we stayed at the Chelemhá Cloud Forest Lodge. Way up in the mountains of the Alta Verapaz region of Guatemala, the lodge is in the privately-run Chelemhá Cloud Forest Reserve where the quetzals still have a (tiny) happy home. We headed out on an early morning hike and after a two hour climb we were shown a hole in a dead tree stump that was home to a nesting pair of quetzals. After just a few minutes this gorgeous male popped out of the hole and alighted on a nearby branch where he graciously posed for us.

Without further ado, the truly resplendent quetzal…

[geo_mashup_map]

Related posts:

1. Quetzals the Hard Way – Chelemhá Cloud Forest Reserve, Guatemala
2. Quetzals the Easy Way – Biotopo de Quetzal, Guatemala
3. Bucolic Basecamps – Mountain Pine Ridge Forest Reserve, Belize

And we do mean accidental.

One of the more exciting road signs in Mexico.

We were driving along  hwy 134 from Mexico City toward Valle de Bravo just minding our own damn business. Our first hint that something was in the air came when Mexican police cars suddenly veered into traffic and slowed all cars to a crawl. As a growing convoy of frustrated drivers crept around a corner the reason for the hold-up came into view: swarms of monarchs flying down the road in a slow-mo river of gold and black. These “butterfly cops” (as we dubbed them) were there to ensure that moving vehicles didn’t hit too many butterflies—or each other—in the winged confusion.

This monarch, and millions of others just like it, fly thousands of miles from the US and Canada to Mexico every year.

Most drivers kept going but we pulled over into the first turnout we saw along the highway. Soon we were hiking up a steep, dusty trail into the forest behind a handful of Mexican visitors in pursuit of what we could only hope was the home roost of the monarchs we’d just seen along the road.

Something in the air in Mexico.What looks like gently falling confetti is actually swarms of flitting butterflies.

Every year, between November and March, hundreds of millions of monarchs somehow navigate their way to the exact same areas of Central Mexico —some flying 5,000 miles or more from where they were born in Canada and the northern US. Scientists say they’re drawn to Mexico’s fir trees, but can’t provide a more complete explanation than that. Once the butterflies arrive, they rest and eat then mate like crazy before attempting the return flight home. Most never make it.

It’s one of the most puzzling, fragile and mind-boggling migrations on the planet and it gives those lucky enough to visit Mexico’s dozen or so protected monarch migration grounds the unique opportunity to see millions of butterflies in one place. There are so many of the orange and black beauties that the air is alive with the sound of their wings. Tree branches bend to the ground under their collective weight. They even begin to give off a not-so-beautiful smell, not to mention their aforementioned ability to stop traffic.

Thousands of butterflies rest in their beloved fir trees, cumulatively weighing enough to bend the branches down as if they were covered in snow.

Some of Mexico’s better known butterfly havens, like El Rosario, are becoming less of a haven as the hiking boots (and the horse hooves of those who take for the “easy” way up) of thousands of visitors churn up the hiking trails into dust bowls and encourage hillside erosion and fir tree loss.  That many humans also create noise and movement that stresses the colony.

But thanks to the Mexican police force we’d stumbled upon the Piedra Herrada site roughly 15 miles outside Valle de Bravo. This newly opened viewing area is one of a handful of migration locations in Central Mexico which attract one third of the world’s monarch population every year.

The hike was steep (prompting some potty-mouthed grumbling from a woman dressed for brunch, not for hiking) and the weather was hot. Some visitors opted to ride up on one of the handful of petite horses-for-hire, a proposition that looked even more uncomfortable than walking.

At the end of a 1,100 foot climb into the mountains there were still no butterflies in sight but we plodded on winding our way up through the thick forest and the thin air above 7,000 feet.

An hour later we were met by two uniformed local men, trained as official monarch monitors. They collected 23 pesos per person and admitted only a dozen or so people at a time into a roped off hillside viewing area roughly 50 feet from the pulsating colony. We were all under strict orders to move slowly and talk quietly and we remained under the watchful eye of these monitors for as long as we remained within the roped off area. It’s one of the few times we’ve felt grateful for being supervised as the monitors shhh’d and admonished with responsibility, care and obvious respect for the butterflies.

At the Piedra Herrada site, thousands of butterflies rest on the fir trees that they love, weighing down the branches like snow. Those dark clumps are all butterflies.

Yep, all those dark patches are monarch butterflies.

Encouraged by the good conditions and manageable crowd size at Piedra Herrada we committed to finding an area even more pristine and private. And we succeeded.

The next monarch meeting place we visited was an area called Cerro Pellon outside a town called El Capulin which is about 25 miles from Valle de Bravo. The trail here was less steep and a bit shorter than the route up to the first sanctuary and our obligatory local guide allowed us to stand within 20 feet of the butterflies.

Karen on the trail to see the monarchs at Cerro Pellon.

The best part, however, was that we were there along with just five other people (three of which were guides). Plus, the trail was less steep.

Monarchs warming up in the sun at Cerro Pellon.

Thousands of monarchs but only five humans at Cerro Pellon in Mexico.

Thousands of monarchs but only five humans at Cerro Pellon in Mexico.

You'd never know that thousands of monarchs were camped out less than half a mile up this hillside at Cerro Pellon in Mexico.

Thousands of monarchs but only five humans at Cerro Pellon in Mexico.

\

It’s true that the future of Mexico’s monarchs is far from certain. Loss of habitat through persistent illegal logging, insufficient funding for the 124,000 acre Monarca Biosphere Reserve which straddles two states and encompasses most of the migration points and over-visitation threatens the butterflies.

To address some of those issues Mexican President Felipe Calderon pledged to add $4.6 million to the $36.4 million annual budget for the Biosphere Reserve (a UNESCO World Heritage Site) back in 2007. However, illegal logging (it’s a felony) and even clear cutting within protected monarch habitat is an ongoing problem as a quick Google Maps overview of some areas brings into stark relief.

Monarchs enjoying Mexico's sunshine

Our advice? Get yourself to Valle de Bravo, a charming Pueblo Magico (they don’t call it the Switzerland of Mexico for nothing) in time for next year’s migration. And note that later in the monarch season (late February and early March) warmer temperatures lure the butterflies lower down the hillsides shaving distance off your hike up to reach them.

[geo_mashup_map]

Related posts:

1. Bicentennial Build Up – Mexico City, Mexico
2. The Mind-Blowing Museums of Mexico City – Mexico City, Mexico
3. Tasting Limited Edition “Vinos Mexico 2010″ – Puebla, Mexico

Despite a sizeable (and growing) population of gringos, Ajijic retains a healthy Mexican population and they retain a healthy regard for the Virgin of Guadalupe, especially during the festival held in her name every December 1-12 throughout Mexico. It’s a time for Mexicans to honor their own unique religious icon, also known as Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, which was tolerated by the Spanish conquistadors who figured turning a blind eye to a miracle-working Mexican version of the Virgin Mary was a small price to pay for converting an entire country to Catholicism.

It all began on December 12, 1531 when the image of what has come to be accepted as the Virgin of Guadalupe appeared on the cloak of Juan Diego, a peasant who, earlier in the day, had encountered an odd teenage girl who had requested that a church be built in her honor on the hill of  Tepeyac. Mexico’s virgin was eventually invoked by revolutionaries and honored by Popes (there’s a shrine to her in  St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome) and today she is perhaps the most ubiquitous symbol in all of Mexico (left).

December 12 was decreed a feast day for the Virgin of Guadalupe in the early 1800s by Jose Maria Morelos, a priest and rabble-rousing leader of Mexico’s War of Independence against the Spanish. Today, in typical Mexican fashion, the Virgin of Guadalupe celebration has been expanded to encompass the first 12 days of December and her festival is marked with  both the profound and the not so profound.

On the one hand you can buy a car freshener with the Virgin’s image on it and hang it from your rear view mirror (we did). On the other hand, millions of devoted pilgrims and followers swarm Mexican shrines and temples devoted to the Virgin every year during the annual festival commemorating her miraculous encounter with Juan Diego. Mexico’s Basilica of Guadalupe,  Tepeyac hill near Mexico City, is the most visited Catholic pilgrimage destination in the world. In 2009 more than 6 million pilgrims traveled there over December 11 and 12–many of them walking for biking long distances.

Ajijic’s festivities don’t include millions of people, however, those who do take part make sure they have a good time.

The faithful pitched tents for the 24 hour mountain-top Virgin of Guadalupe fiesta above Ajijic. That's our orange Coleman tent in the lower left hand corner.

We were lucky enough to get invited to one of Ajijic’s celebrations of the Virgin which combined some of our favorite things: a good stiff hike, good friends (new and old) and the chance to take part in Mexican hospitality and ritual. But first we had to get there.

On December 6 At 6:00am we (along with our great friend Tom from Ajijic) met up with Renee at the local Oxo (think 7-11 but without the creepy parking lot lurkers). Renee is a Mexican resident of Ajijic, an avid hiker, a big-hearted guy and an artist and it was thanks to him that we were headed to the top of Mount Chupanya, 6.5 miles and 3,000 feet above us.

We began the steep steady climb in the dark and slowly wound our way up the desert scrub hillsides of the Sierra Madre for about three hours before we reached our destination, a saddle in the mountain with a small shrine to the Virgin that’s been hand-chipped out of a huge boulder.

This small Virgin of Guadalupe shrine has been carved out of a huge boulder on Mount Chupinaya above Ajijic.

The trail takes us past a few stations-of-the-cross markers, through someone’s small hand-worked corn field and in and out of many different types of vegetation ultimately passing a cluster of crosses, then the summit shortly thereafter. When we got there around 9:30 we were shocked to discover that we weren’t the first arrivals. Already hard at work was a group of Mexican men and it was a pleasure to watch (and try to help) as these guys, not necessarily even friends on any other day, worked seamlessly and resourcefully together to turn a narrow, lumpy bit of hill into a party pad.

It was amazing what they accomplished with a few tarps, a knife and some fallen logs. And as we watched them build a campfire, create makeshift benches, string up tarps, collect firewood and literally unearthing buried treasure, we thought MacGyver’s got nothing on these guys.

For month these men and others had been hiking up the mountain from Ajijic and neighboring communities with enormous bottles of purified water, huge soup pots and other cooking utensils,  bottles of tequila and many other necessities that were the makings of a party which was expected to attract 200 people–not to mention an entire banda band (typically at least eight musicians) which would hike up with their instruments some time in the wee hours when they were done playing at parties down in town.

The early arrivals (including us) warmed up by a never-ending campfire between trips into the woods to dig up party necessities that had been cached in the ground over the previous months.

Two vital ingredients that couldn’t be cached in the ground ahead of time were fireworks and noise makers. Virtually no celebration in Mexico is complete without setting off copious quantities of bombas (extremely loud creations that look like giant bottle rockets) and fireworks or cuteras that come with names like vampiros. During the 12 day Guadalupe Festival even priests set the things off at their churches.

It wasn’t long before other men began arriving up on Chupinaya, huffing up the hill carrying huge baskets full of bombas and cuteras on their backs. All told, about 300 of the things were ultimately amassed at the top. Almost immediately one guy began lovingly sorting, piling and covering them. Then he began lighting them–usually four or five in a row from extremely close range.

By noon it was drizzling and Tom was sorry he hadn’t bothered schlepping his tent up the hill. All said, however, he kept miraculously dry under a crudely strung up bit of plastic even after the drizzle turned to a true rain. We’re just saying.In large part due to the rain, this year’s Chupinaya Virgin fiesta attracted far fewer than 200 people and the banda band arrived late and in reduced numbers. But by dawn they were set up gamely in front of the shrine where they belted out loud, rollicking, slightly-circus-like banda tunes on their drums and cymbals and tubas.

OK, the weather kept the Tuba-man at home, but someone walked up to the top of the mountain carrying a bass drum.

At some point in the soggy night the party crew had begun simmering an enormous pot of menudo (a slow-cooked soup made with tripe) and a equally impressive pot full of cafe olla (a Mexican spiced and simmered cowboy coffee). We’ve had menudo before and have we’ve made peace with the fact that we just don’t care for tripe (cow stomach) but we do like the broth so we breakfasted on a couple of bowls of rich broth (puzzling our fellow revelers by politely refusing the tripe), then we packed up our wet gear for the hike back down.

In the morning the rain stopped long enough to allow Karen to go on a successful orchid hunt.

As we began our descent the weather cleared and we were treated to this view of Lake Chapala and the village of Ajijic 3,000 feet below.

The sun finally came out when we were about half way down the mountain. Here Karen and Tom push on.

 A few days later we found ourselves at another Virgin celebration, this one slightly more urban, in the viollage of San Antonio next to Ajijic. It was December 12, the culmination of the 12 day festival, and San Antonio–like virtually every other city, town and hamlet in the country–was marking the day with a big fireworks display at the entrance to the church. As if to enhance the experience, the power miraculously went out in San Antonio, plunging everything into darkness–the perfect backdrop for the huge castillo or intricately built tower of spinning wheels and fancy shapes which would be brought to life with one flick of a match.

The Virgin of Guadalupe Festival in San Antonio on Lake Chapala culminated, as so many Mexican festivals do, with a castillo (fireworks tower).

The fireworks finale of the Virgin of Guadalupe Festival in San Antonio on Lake Chapala included this castillo (fireworks tower) and a larger-than-life fireworks Virgin.

[geo_mashup_map]

Related posts:

1. Just Passing Through – Talpa de Allende, Jalisco, Mexico
2. Still Here – Tequila, Jalisco, Mexico
3. Lakeside Serenity – Lake Chapala, Jalisco, Mexico