Ah, Antigua

Sometimes things don’t work out as planned. And sometimes that’s for the best.

I was supposed to meet Susan and her workcamp yesterday at the airport, just before noon. The idea was to say “hi” after they cleared customs and immigration, and then say “bye” before they boarded a pickup truck for Huehuetenango.

But before I left for the airport I received a call from Susan’s husband, Kelly, saying that the group had missed their connection and wouldn’t be arriving until 6pm.

“Nuts”, I thought. “Now I’ll have to go to the movies and hang around in cafes all day drinking cappuccinos, just to kill time. Who needs this kind of aggravation?!?”

Somehow I managed to muddle through the day, and finally arrived at the airport in time to watch their plane touch down. It was absolutely wonderful to see Susan again... and I’m not just saying that because she brought chocolate, paperback books, New Yorker magazines, and the Sunday NY Times with her. (Note to future visitors: it certainly didn’t hurt, though.)

Because the group had arrived so much later than planned, the drive to Huehue was more or less out of the question. They decided, instead, to spend the night in Antigua. They invited me to join them.

It was a difficult decision: travel to the quiet cobblestone streets of colonial Antigua in the exceedingly enjoyable company of new friends, or remain in the noisy asphalt streets of crime-ridden Guatemala City by myself.

Once we were in Antigua, we set out for a quick evening stroll and dinner at Doña Luisa’s. Afterwards, Susan and I climbed up to the rooftop garden of the hotel and caught up with each other’s life. (Which, in my case, wasn’t too difficult…seeing as how anything even remotely interesting that has happened to me in the past six months has been immediately posted to this very page.)

As the sun began to rise, we realized that we had, perhaps, spent too much time talking and not enough time sleeping. No, no… just kidding. We were both too tired for our traditional talk-a-thon and retired to our respective rooms relatively early.

In the oh-so-quiet of an Antigua evening, I slept like a baby.

The next morning we woke early, did an brief “this-is-what-Antigua-looks-like-in-the-daylight” tour, en route to find an open coffee shop (and not just for me.) I then helped the folks pack up their pickup, and sent them off with my best wishes and a “see you next week!”

And then I strolled over to Don Rodrigo’s for a table with a stunning view of the volcano, and the best french toast in the world.

Life is good.