Thursday morning, we were taking a hearty breakfast on a terrace not far from our guesthouse. Around 11:00, we closed our bags and took the direction of the lake to hang a boat to San Juan. It was on the dock of this little village we had agreed to meet Annie and John 14:00. A Panajachel, boats leave from two distinct locations depending on the destination you want to achieve. Obviously, we did not run into the right platforms. But after we have bonded over 20 minutes,''a generous gentleman working for the company batteaux''(read tout) we proposed to take us there. Just by cowardice, we sold. He then led us to the boat which was leaving shortly after. He asked us to pay the crossing: 50 Quetzales. Something did not feel''good''(ie an image), but we could not put my finger on it. Was it the whisper of the reel when we asked to pay ... the knowing smile he threw the master ... his shifty eyes hen we paid ...? We would see well. The
lancha (the motor boat) and ran quietly skirted the shore of the lake. Chop kept him from going faster at the risk of watering everyone on board. This ship made a stopover in all villages. We had landed in the penultimate stop. And every time someone came down the boat, I watched how she paid: 10 Quetzales! We were therefore made by novice ride as our reel. But hey, that's the price of the shuttle faster (and direct) to cross the lake. So I had to pound on my orgueuil have to be done for us and comfort me by telling me that was the price we would have paid Touet way to direct a boat ...
Meanwhile, the captain was very friendly and we talked half an hour together. Everything and nothing. Beautiful houses lining the coast. Boats. Canada. He also asked me if we had booked a hotel in San Juan. No, well ... éviemment Certainly we would find there. He then explained that there had only 3 hotels rather exorbitant rates. On learning this, while trying to land were in San Juan, I slipped a word to Sylvie who proposed that we continue to San Pedro last stop in a few minutes of that we dropped our bags and we return tuk-tuk to find Annie and John. This change of heart seemed to bother the captain and his matelos who discussed in their local language ... as to ensure that we do not understand what they were saying ...
few minutes later we pulled up in San Pedro. La Lancha was soon emptied of its passengers. For us, it was longer, the time We equip our backpacks. And when we left the dock, the captain approached us and asked us to pay 10 Quetzales for additional re-routed along the way ... Both say he quickly learned my bitterness has rolled myself a first time for not paying a second. And we left without asking our rest!
Another reel has s'aggripa us to offer a bed. After asking other backpackers''normal''price of a room (60 quetzales), Sylvie has managed to negotiate a. .. 50 quetzales! We dropped our bags there and took a walk the narrow road that leads to San Juan. At the entrance
this small village, we took the direction of the wharf. Along the small dirt road, we called out a strong odor. A smell of fermentation very similar to that produced by the skin of grapes when it was pressed. On our right, on land, a strange pile of peels''''between red and brown were lying in the sun. There was no doubt: the smell was coming from the well!
few meters down, a man was busy filling bags with pink seed blachatres. But what could he do? Clear before our curiosity, we proposed to go to see a closer. We spent the little metal door and we approchés: c'était du café! En fait, apres avoir passé les graines du caféier dans une presse qui sépare l'écorce (qui seche alors au soleil en fermentant!) du grain, ces derniers sont étendus sur de grandes aires de séchage en béton. Apres avoir passé 4 a 5 jours sous les rayons du soleil, les grains sont ramassés et mis en sacs pour etre expédiés (ceux-ci en Californie) ou une autre étape séparera la coquille du grain avant que celui-ci ne soit torréfié prélablement a sa mouture. Tout un procesus qu'on connait peu et qui nous permet de savourer un excellent café tous les matins!
Nous avons alors demandé si nous pouvions prendre quelques images. Devant l'approbation rapide du monsieur, Sylvie se proposa de l'aider. Pendant que je faisais des photos, elle était pieds nus au milieu du tas de café a remplir les sacs. Nous avons aidé le vieil homme a remplir tous ses sacs, puis a les fermer et enfin a les transporter dans son abris. Un expérience unique!
14h00 venait de sonner. Nous avons alors rejoint le quai qui se trouvait quelques dizaines de metres plus bas. Mais pas d'Annie et Jean. Pendant que nous attendions, des chauffeurs de tuk-tuk entamerent la conversation. Votre nom. De quel pays vous venez. Combien de temps vous restez. Etc. Nous leur avons alors expliqué que nous attendions des amis qui devaient arriver en lancha... A 14h30, toujours personne en vue. Nous avons so we decided to walk toward the center of the village of San Juan. Life will give us much in the same way.
We climbed slowly (and painfully) a small street of San Juan when a tuk-tuk honked loudly moving toward us. We have returned and overview of each board waving arms: it was Annie and John! The tuk-tuk with whom we spoke had a marked lowering of the lancha and offered to go to our reherche. Hat the artist!
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