Adios, Panajachel

Today, we caught the chicken bus up to Solola.

Friday market.

I've been to more than a few markets, in more than a few places.  The most fascinating, all considered, were the Moroccan medinas (In Morocco, oddly enough).

But these were close.

Throngs of people, almost exclusively adorned in their traditional traje (costume, garb), and moving in  Brownian Motion.  It was pure melee.  Couple it with the Guatemalan cultural need for absolutely ZERO personal space, and you have what I would loosely call a party.

Only one of the little feminine sand speeders stomped my sandal-clad big toe.

Not bad.

The markets -- as they all do -- carry everything.  Don and I were the only gringos there, making it even more interesting to be there, and the locals even a tad more surprised by our presence.

Couple hours there.  No purchases.

Caught a chicken bus back to Panajachel, and walked the commercial streets a bit more.  We lunched at Guajimbo's, yet again, and -- as before -- virtually ate ourselves sick.

My minimal laundry is done (thanks to the gracious ladies at Utz Jay Hotel).  I'm packed.  We have a reservation in Antigua at the Hotel Casa Cristina, a mere handful of blocks from the central square.

Our minibus leaves at 9:30am, giving us one more breakfast opportunity at the Utz Jay restaurant -- yum.

Pana's a great town.  A nice town.  An easy town.  It makes the list, so far, of places that I'd probably consider living ... if life takes me in that direction.

And .... Panajachel rentals can be had relatively cheaply, particularly ... if I said I'd pay cash and pay the entire term in advance.

But Antigua -- from your old Real Estate professional (ie, ME !) -- is probably fabulous, and similarly rife with affordable rental opportunities.

But who knows.  It's about 80*F in the room, and a blissful 65% humidity -- pretty much what it has been all day, every day, since we got to Pana.

I don't know what I would do in a place like this (I don't have a clue), but I hurt a LOT less, ophthalmologically.

And that's huge ... epic ... ginormous.

Like a lot of ex-pats, I could always just start drinking.  That has a certain appeal, where it never would have before :-)

Ciao for now, then, from the Northern End of Lago de Atitlan Bureau of ... The Gulag.