Antigua de Guatemala

The relatively short onward journey from Santa Ana and the border crossing to Guatemala went rather smoothly (except for some shady character who tried to rip me off during the currency exchange), and after the overcrowded chicken bus finally fought through the disastrous city traffic of Guatemala City, I arrived in Antigua in the evening, where Colin was already waiting for me. We checked in at the Tropicana Hostel. I had stayed here a few years ago, and the hostel features friendly staff, comfortable beds, and a rooftop terrace with a wonderful view. In good weather conditions, one can even see the eruptions of the home volcano, Fuego, which is already impressive from a distance.

But not only the scenery is special here; the city of Antigua (formerly the capital of Guatemala) has much to offer. Nestled in a picturesque valley and surrounded by the three volcanoes Acatenango, Agua, and Fuego, the city is bursting with colonial charm. Colorful facades, majestic churches, and endless cobblestone streets give Antigua a truly unique flair. With numerous bars, restaurants, galleries, and other cultural endeavors, the city attracts countless visitors from all over the world every year, probably making it the ultimate tourist hotspot in Guatemala. Although its popularity and proximity to the capital significantly raise the price level, it is simply incredibly beautiful here, and one could easily spend a long time, especially considering the seemingly endless options for activities and excursions in the surrounding area.

After spending the first two days strolling through the city, playing pool, and enjoying beer in one of the countless bars, we planned to head up to Volcano Acatenango on the third day, a trek I had already completed during my last visit to Guatemala but couldn’t fully enjoy. One of the tacos I had devoured in Mexico City did not sit well, and I had to tackle the ascent back then with considerable stomach problems. Though I made it to the summit of Acatenango (which stands at 3,976 m), I could only partially enjoy the whole journey there and especially the spectacular eruptions of the neighboring Fuego volcano. This time, it was meant to be without restrictions as we climbed the fiery mountain, and I was optimistic that it would work out. Another little highlight awaited us on the evening before the ascent at the hostel. While we had already met various characters during the previous days, we also got acquainted with Wyatt, a laid-back and quite nice American who could play an unbelievably vast repertoire of songs on his guitar (which he had bought somewhere in Guatemala). It seemed like every classic or evergreen was expertly played by Wyatt without him batting an eye. Absolutely impressive and, of course, a great mood booster, especially in pleasant gatherings filled with new acquaintances. On that fateful evening, the remaining guests of Tropicana gathered in a cozy corner after a few drinks, and Wyatt strummed one song after another on his guitar. Keeping him company was, among others, a pretty wild Canadian woman, and the two became more flirtatious and cuddly as they enjoyed their drinks and songs. It was a wonderful spectacle to observe, eventually culminating in the Canadian woman unpacking a tattoo machine and offering her skills to the group. Skeptical due to the woman’s quite intoxicated state, most of the attendees immediately declined, but Wyatt was evidently intrigued by the idea and offered his thigh as a canvas for a piece of art. The lady wasted no time and immediately started painting. And yes, what unfolded next was an absolutely delicious spectacle for the uninvolved observers. Wyatt sat on a sort of garden bench, played his guitar while the lady was defacing his leg. Really, it can’t be said any differently: I have no clue if it was just due to her inebriated state, but the execution and application were truly horrendous. It felt like an eternity before the design was applied to the skin; the lines were crooked and skewed, and there were multiple instances of the tattoo being redone. She constantly slipped with her hand and her entire forearm ended up over the freshly tattooed area. Terrible, and aside from the craftsmanship aspect, even to this day, I am not sure what the design was actually supposed to represent (I’ve attached a photo for reference). Wyatt endured the bodily harm with grace, and the tattoo just kept getting bigger and uglier. Fortunately, it ended up being just that one design, and while they embraced closely on the bench after completing the artistically so high-quality piece of work, I would have loved to see Wyatt's facial expression the following morning, once his sober mind realized what he would have to carry with him from then on. Haha, simply delightful and shocking at the same time – but yeah, those who suffer the damage indeed have nothing to fear regarding mockery.

With a grin and a shake of my head, I went to bed, and the next morning after a short night, we had breakfast at 7:00 AM and then drove to the foot of Acatenango, from where the group was to set off. 23 people gathered for the ascent, and I was briefly startled by the size of the group (during the last ascent to the volcano, we were only 11 people). Ultimately, the group size was not a problem; everyone was fairly relaxed, and we quickly made new connections. From the start in the valley, it would take almost 6 hours to reach the base camp on the slope of Acatenango, steadily climbing upwards. The trek is steep in places, but (in my opinion) absolutely doable in terms of difficulty. Also, many long breaks are taken, so one doesn’t really reach their physical limits. After starting in an idyllic landscape of fields and farms, the path gradually gets steeper and winds first through dense pine and then through cloud forests. The chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves are very pleasant companions, and as the air becomes cooler and fresher with increasing altitude, the view opens more with every step, finally revealing the surrounding volcanoes beyond the treeline. At least in theory; in practice, it was quite cloudy today, and only occasionally could one enjoy a view into the valley. A girl from our group was now making her way up to Acatenango for the second time within a week because she hadn’t seen anything during her first ascent and didn’t want to leave Guatemala without catching a glimpse of Fuego. She looked up at the sky with concern a few times, and I reassured her not to worry while telling her about my almost eerie connection with the weather god on my travels.

Around 5 PM, we eventually reached the base camp at Acatenango, from which one can also enjoy the famous view of the fire-spitting Fuego – and indeed we got to witness that. Though the weather was still not optimal, the cloud cover opened at regular intervals, granting us a clear view of the main attraction up here. The guides assigned us a spot in the two-story wooden structure, and we stored our luggage. During my first visit here five years ago, there were only very few makeshift accommodation options – I can only recall 2 or 3. That has changed significantly, and along the slopes of Acatenango, various accommodations run by different tour providers stretch out. Almost like a small settlement, one can stay here in various comfort and price levels. We had booked the basic option, which was completely sufficient, and with a sleeping mat and a thick sleeping bag, it was quite adequate for the environment here on the mountain. It should cost around 60 euros for the trek – all inclusive – a fair price, I think. For about 18 euros more, you can spontaneously decide, depending on the weather conditions, to take an additional trek to Fuego and have the chance to get within a few hundred meters of the fire-spewing crater. Our guide asked the group for interested parties for this extra hike, and part of the group opted for the adventurous variant to explore Fuego up close. I also said a clear yes; when one is here and has the opportunity to get so close to the crater of one of the Earth's most active volcanoes, one should definitely take it.

After a short rest in the camp, about 20 minutes later, a group of approximately 10 people set out for Fuego while the rest stayed with one of the guides in the camp. Our guide pointed out the fairly high difficulty level of the extra hike and reminded everyone to bring weather-resistant clothing; although it was currently dry, the weather on the mountain can change quite rapidly.

As the fiery mountain in the background drew attention with several huge jets of ash and smoke, we descended steeply into the valley on a fairly steep path. At times, the descent could only be accomplished with concentrated climbing, and I was already dreading the return journey up the same path, and in the dark. After about 45 minutes, we reached the valley between the two mountains; night fell, and in the dusk, the harbingers of a thunderstorm made themselves known. Just before reaching the valley, the sky was lit up brilliantly by the lightning, and it rumbled loudly. We paused briefly in the wooded area, and the weather situation worsened. While the intervals between the thunder and lightning were still relatively long at first, they drastically shortened, and we seemed to be unlucky as the thunderstorm was now incredibly close.

Our guide conveyed the impression that everything was still within limits and safe, and we began the final ascent. After a while, the sky lit up continuously, and it cracked and boomed at a volume I had never heard during a thunderstorm before. No idea if this is characteristic of a volcanic cone, but the situation was definitely becoming increasingly frightening. Several small groups came down from Fuego and unanimously claimed that the weather up top was catastrophic and that one could see absolutely nothing. I repeatedly gathered the same information, and a guide who had just come down from the mountain advised us to abort – a terrible thunderstorm was raging at the summit, too much electricity in the air, and this entire endeavor was too dangerous under these conditions. Puhhh – great prospects and a completely uncomfortable scenario. I consulted with the others in our group; as our guide also thought we could continue to ascend, we decided to keep going. To be honest, I wasn’t exactly comfortable, and I also remembered a story from my last visit here: A guide had told me then that there had been fatalities on these tours, and when I inquired about the cause, it included “lightning strike.” Damn it, why did that come back to me just now? But in the interest of transparency, I shared this information with the group. Unbelievingly, we slowly climbed further up the slope; it was pouring, the wind blew dust and ash into our faces, and after each lightning strike followed a loud murmur among the group – we were in the midst of a thunderstorm, and it was genuinely terrifying. At that moment, I honestly didn’t know if I fully trusted the guide anymore. And although I didn’t think he would intentionally put his group in danger, my gut feeling told me that this was no longer a relaxed situation, and the faces and reactions of the other expedition participants only reinforced my impression. I have no idea how long we crawled up the mountain; due to the extremely uncomfortable situation, I lost sense of time and space and was just trying to convince myself that nothing was going to happen, while the lightning struck nearby in the surrounding slopes. Eventually, we reached the dusty ground of the summit, and while we were still caught in that dreadful thunderstorm, the clouds behind us parted, revealing the view down into the valley, where we saw the lights of Antigua shimmering in the distance. A surreal sight, and except for the town behind us, we could see nothing else in front. We advanced in monotonous steps; only the shimmering of headlamps was visible through the dense cloud cover while the lightning continuously illuminated the sky. For a brief moment, I wondered why I was even putting myself through this mess, and probably as an absolute joke, since there was no chance of seeing Fuego, lava, and fire at that moment. At some point, our guide said we should stop for a moment, and the group gathered as we stared into the void together, mocking this ridiculous situation with a sense of morbid humor. While it continued to illuminate and crash around us, suddenly, out of nowhere, Colin jumped down the slope with a great leap, emitting some kind of sound. “Fuck,” I heard him scream several times, and while I laughed (yes, the action came unexpectedly and completely out of nowhere, so I really couldn’t help but laugh) inquiring after my friend's well-being, Colin said he briefly thought he had been struck by lightning. I was completely confused, and Colin mentioned that a drop of water located on his hood in front of his face began to glow, and this was perhaps a sign of an impending lightning strike. No idea what to make of that statement; it certainly didn’t improve my sense of well-being, and while I continued staring into the cloud cover, I heard my name being called loudly from the background. I turned around, and Colin beckoned me over to him and the guide while he incredulously gazed at the trekking poles our guide was holding. As he held one of the poles up, the metallic tip actually began to glow. What the fuck – I had never seen anything like that before, and it was somehow both fascinating and frightening, a clear indication of how much electrical charge was in the atmosphere up here. A wild occurrence for sure, and likely the same phenomenon as the glowing drop of water on Colin's hood. Colin was not entirely wrong in his assessment, by the way. This phenomenon is called St. Elmo's Fire and clearly indicates that the environment is very highly electrically charged and that a lightning strike could be imminent.

I thought it would be a good idea to spend the waiting time (for whatever) squatting down, and after a while, the storm weakened, and we even caught glimpses of the ash plume on the horizon. We now moved a few hundred meters closer to the summit, and the cloud cover became slightly more transparent. Eventually, our guide halted the group and stated that we had now stepped within approximately 150 meters of the crater of Fuego. The outlines of the summit cone became visible; the storm had subsided, and we could now only perceive the glow of the sky from a distance. From this point, the situation became significantly more relaxed, and after a few more minutes, the entire cloud cover opened up, providing a clearer view of Fuego. Incredible – and while numerous groups in the days prior had seen almost nothing, and the hikers we passed on their way back were all long-faced, we had caught the perfect timing, with the summit now clearly revealing its full splendor. Minute by minute, Fuego erupted, spitting fire into the sky more or less violently, and with loud astonishment, we watched lava flows cascade down the slopes of the volcano. For over an hour, we observed this surreal spectacle, and it was more than a fitting reward for the frightening journey up here. With such special natural phenomena, one can never get enough, and with each eruption, we gawked in awe at the powers and the show this mountain put on for visitors. And once again, the weather had been kind; by now, it's almost a bit eerie how it always seems to align perfectly, but of course, one can only be grateful when it does. Perfect! Eventually, we got moving again, as the return journey obviously also had to be tackled, and that meant: descending completely from Fuego and climbing back up Acatenango to the base camp. Exhausting, but after the view up there, the journey should certainly be tackled with broad smiles on our faces. In the valley, we distributed two packs of marshmallows as a treat, and as we climbed the steep ascent, the clouds had completely cleared, and from a safe distance, we could observe the constant eruptions of Fuego. We frequently stopped to look back at the fiery mountain, which truly lived up to its name. Almost 5 hours after setting off, we reached the base camp somewhat exhausted; it had gotten pretty cold by now, and we received a delicious meal of chicken, potatoes, and vegetables while warming ourselves by a campfire. The night remained clear, and while we still couldn’t get enough of the spectacular backdrop in the background, one by one, the participants’ eyes started to droop, and people retreated into the hut. I was completely satisfied because compared to my first visit here and the stomach problems, this time I was spared the half-hour night excursion to a restroom disguised as a wooden shed. Moreover, the excursion back then was not possible for some unknown reason so close to the crater of Fuego. I sat by the fire with Colin for a while, and eventually, we also retreated to our sleeping quarters. To my surprise, a dog was sitting on my sleeping mat, looking at me with a “Please don’t chase me outside” expression. The little guy had followed us all the way up and apparently had no desire to spend the night in the cold. I let him stay, and we shared the narrow niche for the night. I crawled into my sleeping bag alone, but the little dog eventually crawled completely under the thick blanket over my sleeping bag and soon fell comfortably asleep. At some point early in the morning, part of the group set off for the summit of Acatenango. However, not me (and Colin) – I was more than satisfied with the trip to Fuego, and I had already fully summited Acatenango during my last visit.

After the traveling group returned to camp, we enjoyed a small breakfast, and around 8 AM it was time to head back down to the valley. The relaxed descent took about 3 hours, and on the way, we encountered quite a few larger groups heading up. Back on the narrow paths through the fields, this sometimes led to bottlenecks, and we had to let each other pass. I have no idea why there were suddenly so many people on the way to the summit the following day, but I was quite glad that our group was quite limited – the turnout was already pretty extreme. Down in the valley, there was a trailer for the climbers of Fuego, featuring an image of the fire volcano as a kind of medal – a nice gesture, I think. I was certainly pleased and reflected on the previous day during the return journey. I have no idea whether what happened up there was simply incredibly reckless and we were lucky or if it was a calculable risk – in any case, it was an absolutely unique experience, and I can only recommend to anyone who finds themselves in Guatemala to add this ascent to their list – whether with or without Fuego.

In the next few days, we continued to explore the city and wandered through the countless small art and trinket markets and on the rooftop terrace of our hostel. I also met Anna and Andre here, a couple from Australia (Anna is originally from Madrid) – two unbelievably relaxed and cool people, and since the two of them were traveling further south, we loosely agreed to meet in Colombia in a few weeks. Of course, we also watched football in Antigua, and the local first league team had a good fire in the building, with a small barra providing excellent support.

Before I was to return to Quito, there were a few farewell beers in a cozy bar with Colin, Andre, Anna, and all the other nice personalities I had gotten to know here again. It was definitely nice – my second stay in Antigua de Guatemala. Whether I will come back here again, I don’t know – but this relaxed town with its colossal volcanoes and natural spectacle has definitely left a lasting impression in my memories. There are just unique places on Earth, and this one definitely belongs to that group.