La Lancha

Then, after breakfast, Ellery, William, and Henry did a treasure hunt through the nature preserve and while I did not accompany them, it was reported by Chad and Elizabeth that a good time was had by all.

With that, it was time for us to leave Chaa Creek. We took a cab to the Guatemala border, and easily negotiated both the border crossing and the money changing. We then hopped on a bus coming from San Ignacio and headed to Flores, populated by the usual assortment of travelers: a friendly Israeli couple (fatefully, Ellery was wearing her Hebrew SpongeBob tee shirt), a sullen Italian couple, and four somewhat confused Americans, along with several Guatemalans.

The scenery from the border to Ixlu, where we would be getting off, was far from the jungle I expected. Rather, it was mostly clear cut grazing pastures for the many cows, bulls, and horses we passed along the way (including one herd of cows that blocked the road for a short while). Most of the road was unpaved,which made for a dusty, bumpy trip – just the way I like it.

Getting off at Ixlu, in the middle of nowhere, gained us some respect from the other travelers on the bus, all of whom wanted to know what we knew. Of course, if I told them that we were headed to La Lancha, all of our “street cred” would have been lost, so I vaguely said that we were staying someplace closer to Tikal. Waiting at the bus stop were two drivers, one hoping to take someone to Tikal, and another hoping for a local fare. We, of course, were of the later variety and while I was tempted to walk down the road to El Remate and wait for a chicken bus or shared taxi to come by, I opted for the taxi to take us to the hotel.

La Lancha – rustic, serene, isolated, and empty. Except for the silent and somewhat sullen gay couple from Sydney, it’s just me and Els. But I should have expected it given that it is the rainy season and there are only ten cabanas here to begin with.

The rooms themselves almost hang on the side of the mountain leading to Lake Peten Itza, all with hammocks swaying on the porches and a beautiful view. There’s an open air lodge at the top, a very small swimming pool, and a very steep path down to the lake where there are some chaise lounges and canoes. (I can’t imagine that Francis Ford Coppola, who owns this place, has actually been here; at the very least, I can’t imagine that he has hiked up from the lake to the rooms).

We arrived around 2:30, had lunch, walked down to the lake and back, napped, read, and then I sat by the pool while Ellery swam. Then it was dinner. Despite the uninhabited nature of the resort, our path from the room to the lodge was lined with small luminarias placed there just at dusk by the nearly invisible staff, and the food was definitely wonderful. (At the same time, this attention to detail isn’t available 24/7; this is being posted a day late because by 8:30 p.m., the lodge was dark and hence no internet access).

With the exception of a trip to Tikal and maybe a horseback ride or two, I expect this action-packed routine to continue for the next two days. I may go crazy with boredom; we’ll see.

written by  shoshtrvls on August 25, 2009 from El Remate, Guatemala
from the travel blog: Belize, Guatemala and Honduras (2009)
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