This is a three part series that I’ve split up by day. Check out the amazing second day and the grand sunrise finale! I’ve used initials for the other people in my hiking group. This is just a memoir of my experience, for all the information you need to do the hike yourself check I‘ve made a quick guide. Enjoy!

The hike began in the hostel. Well, not really, but that’s where my alarm went off at 4:30AM on a freezing Monday morning in Xela, Guatemala. I was about to do something I’d been looking forward to for years; the hike from Xela to Lake Atitlan, a three day trail that traverses mountains and crosses rivers, where you stay in otherwise unreachable villages and wash off in Mayan Saunas. It was also my first time doing a multi day trail! (Which was surprising considering I’ve consistently loved hiking since I was a toddler.)

The van arrived at 5, and fifteen minutes later, after picking up the rest of the group (there were eight of us plus our guide), we were at the tour company’s office, loading our bags with food and water for the day. 

Before we set off, we all got introduced. We were quite an international group with T and V from Germany, J & F from France, C from Portugal, M & Z from Israel (They’d actually been the ones who recommended this tour company to me when I had met them in Antigua, and they’d also be making separate kosher food with me.), myself representing both the UK and USA (yes I’m a proud dual citizen (when it’s useful at least)), and our guide, the one and only Rudy, from right there in Xela. 

And with that we drove off, through the city and into the hills for what felt a lot longer than it really was, perhaps because of how bumpy the roads were. After 20 or so minutes we arrived at the trailhead. I was surprised at how close we still appeared to the city after that much time driving, but I suppose the roads being more twisted than earphones you find in an old trouser pocket had a say in that. The temperature had yet to rise, and though the sun helped warm my half asleep bones, the wind, which carried a more potent bite now that we were at a higher altitude, countered its glowing rays. Long story short, it was very cold.

And so; off we went. With Rudy leading the group, we walked up the dusty street past the last houses dotting the edge of the city, before the street turned into a narrow, dusty path. Our first day was supposed to be the hardest, covering over 20 km, many of that agonisingly steep, in around 10 hours. The first path led us through a thick forest, and boy was it a steep one! On it, we frequently had to pause to let farmers get by with their donkeys and their loads. It was impressive, if a tad demoralising, to see the ease with which the locals skipped up the mountain, breathing evenly and cheerfully waving as if they climbed a mountain in the daily. Which, well, they do.

It was close to an hour and a half of hiking through the forest, spurred on by the occasional break in the trees giving us glimpses of the views to come, before we finally made it to the top of this first hurdle. One last steep push, and suddenly we were surrounded by marvellous fields of grains and meadows of sheep, no trees to block us from seeing the surrounding mountains in their full beauty. And, no trees to shade us from the suddenly berating sun. Over the next 45 minutes, we found ourselves peeling off layer by layer of our clothes like onions in the sun. Then we arrived at the highest point of the entire trail (just under 3100 metres). Unfortunately, this place has no grand title, it’s just a spot in between the fields that Ruddy pointed out and we stopped for pictures at. 

From the high point we started our first downhill section (well duh Yosef. How can you go uphill from the highest point?!). We left the fields but we were still out in the open and the views here were paintings in my mind that will stay with me for life. We stopped for our long awaited breakfast at a small clearing with an astounding view of the distant volcanoes. It was a crystal clear day which meant we were privileged to see the Acatanengo erupting from many miles away. Me and M used this break to put on our tefillin (phylacteries), which resulted in our fellow hikers’ absolute confusion having never seen anything like it before. (insert Chelsea fan meme)I managed to fulfil a lifelong dream of mine and convince one guy that I was simply taking my blood pressure (If you’re a Jewish guy and you’ve never tried this, I really have nothing to say to you).

Over the next two hours or so we made our way down into a misty valley. There was a gravel road here, which meant we were approaching a village. Sure enough, after an hour perhaps two hours we reached the home who hosted us for lunch. We had simple veggie filled wraps, which made it easier for me, M, and Z to make our kosher meal as all we had to do was cut the vegetables with our own knife. We all had a great time chatting over our overflowing, slowly becoming soggy concoctions whilst keeping the hungry chickens at bay, and after an hour’s break, a refreshing locally grown coffee, and a quick stop at the village shop (which was in this house), we headed out for the last leg of today’s hiking. 

Village characters

This last push was split in two distinct halves; down to the river bank, and up to the village; and both were horribly steep. For the descent this meant constant tree grabbing and more than a couple small scratches. Luckily there were no steep drop-offs here and the dusty ground wasn’t too brutal a landing pad (the same cannot be said about my next hike, Acatanengo). To cross the river we had to either wade across the fast flowing cold water, or balance over a bridge that was a lot less narrow than the group made it seem. Not being interested in hiking further while cold and wet we chose the bridge, which was a lot less narrow than the group seemed to think (to this day I wonder why they were so terrified, you’d think they were balancing on a tightrope over Victoria Falls!). We took a short break on the river bank, then headed up towards the village. This final ascent was the hardest yet. Partially because of how steep it was but mostly because of just how exhausted we were at this point. Arriving at the village felt like when the school-bell rang for summer holidays; Elating. 

At the village, we laid down our sleeping bags and started preparing for dinner, whilst one at a time using the (cold) shower. Dinner for the kosher crew was pasta, veggies, beans, and of course; cookies! The rest were treated to chicken and soup which I can’t lie, made me a tad jealous. Not because I had no protein there but because it had been close to a month since I’d had any meat. It is what it is.

After dinner some of us knew we had to try out a Mayan Sauna, known as the “Temazcal”.

How it works is you’ve got a small chamber made of wood and cement just outside the house. Inside they’re benches, a coal fire, small personal buckets or large bowls, and two larger buckets; one filled with cold water, and one with hot water. Outside the chamber you have a massive pot of water over a fire. You control the heat and dampness inside the temezcal by pouring cold water into the hot water, creating steam. For a burst of more intense heat you throw some cold water on the coals, which lets of a lot more steam than mixing in the bowls. Once the water in the hot bucket starts cooling to much, you get more from the large bucket outside. You can also use the hot water to wash yourself off, which is really soothing. And, if you’re an idiot like me, you can pour some of the cold water on yourself for some shocking sensations.

Day 2