Guatemala 2026. Day 5 - From Xela to Atitlán

Xela is the second largest city in Guatemala, but besides having a lot of people there is really not much to see in the city itself. This is why after a nice breakfast we started on our way to Lake Atitlán, which sits in between mountains, mostly formed by a series of rhyolitic ignimbrites and air-fall tuffs, which form deep barrancas flanked by cliffs several hundred feet high. This whole series receives the name Los Chocoyos Tuff, and include at least four major pyroclastic flows and any number of air-fall tuffs, erupted sometime between 98,000 and 75,000 years ago. They represent 700 cubic kilometers of magma, and their eruption led to the collapse of the Atitlán caldera, now occupied by Lake Atitlán.

The road there was challenging, but Tom is a very good driver and, as long as the copilot is ready to indicate the proximity of speed bumps ("tope, tope, tope!") and potholes ("bache!"), he doesn't mind the twisty road.

We got our first look at Lake Atitlán as we approached the lake-side town of San Lucas Tolimán, and the first thing that became obvious was that the lake doesn't have a nice circular outline, except on the northeast. The circular shape has been marred by the formation of three very big post-caldera volcanoes along or close to the ring-fracture zone: San Pedro, Tolimán, and of course Atitlán. Here in San Lucas we got our first sighting of a Qute car, which is indeed a very cute minicar manufactured in India, which has gained great popularity in this part of Guatemala. We figure it costs about US$ 7,000, so it is a good alternative for those who want an inexpensive car. Many are supped up with wind stabilizers, chrome, and lights, and are obviously a fierce competitor of the tuc-tucs for taxi service.

Another 15 km of twisty road brought us to Santiago Atitlán, where we were going to spend the night at the brewery of one of Tom's friends. We got there by early afternoon, in time to catch Martin Chif, Tom's friend, finishing a brewing batch and getting ready to go have lunch with the family. He quickly showed us to the two upstair rooms he has for guests, and promptly disappeared until the late afternoon.

We took the opportunity to walk to the town, and its municipal peer, to admire the southern tail of the lake and across it the San Pedro volcano. This is the smaller of the three volcanoes, but it is the perfect size to be an easily photographed example of an andesitic stratovolcano. The water of the lake appears beautiful and crystalline, but we were told that folks are concerned about the quality of the water, because none of the twelve towns along the shore have sewage treatment systems, and at best use septic pits that eventually seep toward the lake. At the lake we met a gentleman who proposed a tuc-tuc tour of the city, which we gladly accepted.

Our guide, Pedro, was a middle age man, very knowledgeable about the history of the town. In the packed little tuc-tuc we climbed to a view point from which we could admire the lake and look at a group of women washing clothes at the lakeshore. Water is extracted from the lake, pumped to a high point, filtered, and from there distributed to the town by gravity. Our second stop was at the Parque de la Paz, a fenced area covered with concrete and several monuments, built to commemorate the fallen during the civil war of 1960 to 1996, in which Mayan peasants took to a guerrilla struggle against Mayan soldiers that formed part of the army to demand fair treatment and regulate ownership of the land. The peasants won at the end, but at a very high toll of lives, and most of the rights they won have eroded during the last 30 years.

Our third stop was at the central plaza to visit the cathedral, and to see the chapel of the Atitlán indigenous protector, Maximón (pronounced mah-shee-MON). This peculiar character is a bad boy of the first class, so we had to go and see him at the house who is currently giving him shelter. Pedro suddenly transformed himself from an amiable tourist guide to a Formula One racer, recklessly hurling the tuc-tuc along a narrow labyrinth of passage ways, time and again avoiding a collision but for a few millimeters (it was like an Indiana Jones scene). We had to tuck our knees inside the tuc-tuc to avoid getting our legs torn in the process. Finally, the walkways got to be too narrow, so he parked and walked us the short distance to the house where Maximón has a room all for himself. He is a short image carved in wood, with a wide-brim hat, and a cape made of many layers of colorful weaves. He is smoking a cigar and is surrounded by bottles of liquor, all brought by devout followers who bring him these gifts. He will also take money, which is what we contributed, but when we were there someone brought him a cigarette and a small bottle of rum, and the attendants promptly took the cigar out of his mouth, tipped him back, and poured the rum down his gullet. Afterward the cigarette was placed in his mouth. The offer had been gladly accepted! Maximón is said to be a trickster and a womanizer, but if the shamans put him in his place he is a good protector of the indigenous people.

The final stop was at an art galley (isn't that always so with tours?) that had many beautiful paintings. One of them was a six-foot long scene of Lake Atitlán and its volcanoes, and another showed the backs of several local people, executed in orange, brown, and yellow tones. Jolene liked them both for decorating the guest rooms at the house, so she bought them. The canvases were taken out of their frames and rolled, but we also took the long frames, tied to the sides of the tuc-tuc, which from there took us to where we were going to spend the night.

The brewery is a good size house where the brewing room is small, the beer garden is very ample, and the kitchen is also of very good size. It is the joint venture of Martin Chif, a Belgian amateur brewer, and Gloria Maker, a Minnesota beer aficionada, who together created the brand Ms. Chif Maker, as a homophone to the words "mischief maker". Both arrived around 5 pm and the party got on its way. Martin is totally bitten by the beer-making bug, and talking with Tom was heaven for him (and for Tom as well). He had six or seven beers on tap, and we had to make a professional tasting of all of them, interrupted by discussions on where to get the best malt (barley or wheat grain that has been wetted and drained to encourage germination, after which it is dried, sometimes roasted, and cracked), whether to add oats or not, whether to add chocolate to a stout, and the relative merits of this or that brand of yeast. The different beers were declared good to excellent by the beer masters and at the end of the night we went to bed dreaming of vast rivers of beer.