Day 13 - Hiking in San Marcos

On Sunday I took a boat to San Marcos to see another lake town and visit my friend Valentina. The trip there took about an hour but didn’t seem long at all because it was so filled with beautiful views.

An interesting note about the boat rides is that boats do not leave or arrive at a scheduled time. From what I experienced, the drivers just sit in the dock until every person sized area in their boat is filled, and then they take off for their destination. If no one seems to be coming to the dock they might leave with some spaces left open, but they also might sit and wait for a good long time until more passengers wander over. It just depends on the driver. On the way to San Marcos there were several more people than seats on the boat and almost all with bags of feed or seed or flowers or food. There were three stops before we reached San Marcos: Santa Cruz, Jaibalito, and a third that I didn’t find out the name of because the man sitting next to me warned me that time before I could ask where we were that No, this dock was not yet San Marcos.

Another tidbit that it will be good to remember is not to take a boat from the dock at the bottom of the main street, Calle Santender. Though from that area the two docks there look like the only boat docks around, if you turn right on the last street before you reach those docks and walk a short distance down that road, you’ll reach a public dock that is equally good but less crowded with tourists and thus significantly cheaper. 

My friends had warned me not to pay over 25Q (~$3.30) for the boat to San Marcos; any more than that, and they were overcharging me. So the boat ride there I paid 25Q and felt very price savvy. Yet a short conversation later in the day with Valentina, a native Guatemalan, revealed that Guatemaltecas pay 8Q for the same trip, and though I probably couldn’t talk the drivers down to that price, I could drop a significant amount and still be overpaying. The boat ride back I gave the driver just 15Q, and he accepted it without question.

When we finally did arrive I was pleasantly surprised by the town. I had heard that every town around the lake has its own personality and feel, but I hadn’t traveled around much yet. San Marcos was very different from Pana in a lovely, flowery kind of way.

I sat and chatted with Valentina at her market for a bit. She had only started this new job the day before, yet her work was already in full swing. She works for Alma de Colores (Soul of Colors) an inclusive organization that sells crafts made by the disabled. After taking in the market I decided to take a hike. I had been told by some friends that there is place in the mountains in San Marcos called the Yoga Forest. If you go up the main road towards the valley at some point off to the side you see a rock with flowers painted on it. If you go off the road at that point you can follow the trail of painted flowers to the Yoga Forest.

Valentina warned me that it was quite a hike, and I was still wearing my church dress from that morning, but I had some good boots, lots of water, and a desire to go.

It was quite a hike. Sometimes the painted flowers were very far apart and I’d worry that I’d gone the wrong way before I saw the next one. Sometimes they were partially hidden under real foliage. And sometimes the path continued straight, but the flowers veered to the left or right.

I thought about Valentina saying that it’s such a hike that many people give up and turn back before they reach the Yoga Forest. My friend had told me that when he was there he had turned the wrong way someplace and lost the flower path completely. As I continued up the mountain, perfectly alone in the most beautiful of places, I considered the thought the maybe the benefit of the Yoga Forest is gotten not by being there but by getting there. I think I gained a huge amount tranquility - and exercise - from the hike. So half an hour later when the painted rocks stopped and off to the side there was a sign and a gate marked “The Yoga Forest”, I paused. I looked. And I kept on walking.

I didn’t feel finished with my journey up the mountain. I felt that I was gaining more than just altitude from my climb. So I passed the gate by, and I followed a narrow path ever upwards.

I would have continued forever if I hadn’t felt a few drops of rain and decided that I would be significantly less tranquil caught alone in a mountain mudslide. And I realized that I had hiked for almost two hours and the last boat back to Panajachel left at five. Though it was a tempting idea to spend the night surrounded by trees in San Marcos, it didn’t linger after another raindrop fell. So I turned around and hurried back down the way I came. When I made it the entrance of the Yoga Forest a second time I had escaped out from under the slow moving rain cloud and figured I might as well take a peek inside. I climbed a steep staircase and caught some beautiful views at the top before leaving again without going into the reception building towards what looked very much like a gringo spa.

An unfortunate discovery was that there is more than one path to the Yoga Forest. It made sense; people come from different directions. But it meant that though you can follow the flowers up to the gate, you cannot actually trust that following them in reverse will lead you back the way you came. I definitely made a few wrong turns, but luckily it was easy to remember that the direction I should be moving was down. Safely at the bottom, I reunited with Valentina, and we took a much less crowded lancha home to Panajachel.