Rocking that *International* Paradise

Monday morning at Laguna Lachua dawned bright and beautiful.  We had the sunrise to ourselves, and we enjoyed it in peace and quiet.  Though there were still a few clouds, they burned off as the sun rose, and the sky morphed from gray to pink to yellow to a bright cerulean blue.  We sat in a relaxed silence, enjoying the howler monkeys’ eerie serenade.  By the time we finished breakfast, there was not a cloud left in the sky, the water was warm, and we all wished we could stay just a few more hours.  I truly thought the weekend’s curse had been paid and we were in the clear.  Sunrise  We packed up camp with light hearts and were back to the cars and headed towards the city by 10:30am.   One last glimpse of the lake.  The first 5km of driving over the dirt road was muddy and bumpy and no more fun than it had been the first time, but we traversed it, and then it was smooth sailing.  Local men and children come out to work on fixing the worst parts of the ro

I woke up on Saturday morning with a pounding headache and a nervous, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.  I just didn’t feel like this trip was going to go well. By the time we’d been on the road for a few hours and had stopped to have a hearty breakfast at the Sarita restaurant located at the turn-off to Coban, though, my nerves were gone.  I didn’t even really flinch when my steering wheel started shaking on our drive.  We joked about it, I fleetingly worried about it, and then I put it out of my mind. We arrived at Laguna Lachua at about 2:30pm, after driving through myriad small towns, taking in beautiful mountain vistas, braving 5 kilometers of unpaved, muddy, rutted road, and not getting lost once.  Moses (the car) performed like a champ through the mud. Upon checking in, Lorenzo, a cheery man who is very devoted to and passionate about his job, gave us the rules of the park, gave us a discount (he charged us the resident price rather than the foreigner one

**Important Note: This entire post was written on Friday the 13th, BEFORE we left for our trip to Laguna Lachua.** You ever feel like a trip is just cursed before it even begins?  If that’s a thing, then this weekend’s planned adventure to Laguna Lachua is definitely cursed.  Let me tell you what we’ve already been through. It began as a dream trip.  I’d heard of this remote, pristine lake on a nature preserve in northern Guatemala.  Everyone I spoke with recommended a vehicle with 4 wheel drive to get there, since the roads aren’t top notch.  No problem, I thought.  Amy and Chris would both love the trip, and Chris’s truck would be the perfect vehicle.  So, when a 3 day weekend presented itself in February, Amy and I decided we wanted to use it to hit up Lachua.  First hitch: Chris wasn’t going to be in town that weekend.  Okay, we said.  We’ve got other friends with SUVs.  Annette’s awesome to hang out with, and she’s got a car that could make it.  Let’s ask her. S