It was good to have a more relaxed start to the day but, as usual when you are told that you can get up late, for some reason you wake early! 

I didn't feel too good this morning. I put this down to either the motion sickness from yesterday or maybe the malaria tablets. I have been really careful not to eat anything that may have been washed in the local water. Also not have ice unless Ivania had confirmed that it was made with bottled water. 

Maybe some fresh air would help? 

I had arranged to meet up with Sharon at 8am, which gave me plenty of time for a leisurely shower and a stroll around these beautiful gardens. 

There has been a grackle, I think, outside my window since dawn. He has the most amazing repertoire of bird song. This includes his usual call, other birds' calls and a wonderful impression of a car alarm! 

There is a tree, again,just outside my window, that is full of humming birds of all shapes and sizes. I can see them flying about as I write this. I always love my humming birds, don't I? I also found a beautiful bird with a black head, yellow chest, orange back and black and white wings. I got a photo but he was the wrong side of a branch unfortunately. According to Walter, he who knows, it is a Baltimore Oriole. 

There is a jacuzzi in the garden that is filled from a thermal spring and a strange igloo like structure which turned out to be a sauna. There are also numerous places to sit and enjoy the peace and listen to the birds. Considering the hotel is just set back a few yards from the main street, it is surprisingly quiet. 

After breakfast we decided on a walk down to the lake as we didn't have to be back until 10.30. We were pestered a little by the store owners along the street but it was still only a few minutes to the lake. 

It really did look good. The three volcanoes, San Pedro, Tolima and Atitlan, all had necklaces of clouds, with their cones easily visible. The lake is the remains of another large, very large, extinct volcano. All that remains is the caldera which is the top part of the cone, this has now filled with water to form the lake This caldera is around 18 kilometres across, just imagine how enormous the volcano must have been before it erupted! 

After fending off dozens of street traders we reached the lake. It was a beautiful morning and we strolled along the edge of it,  between shops and restaurants. It was good to be away from the crowds and just enjoy the beauty that nature intended us to enjoy. 

Sharon has proved to be a really good friend. She is intelligent, articulate, well travelled and most importantly, she is an animal lover. She has a good sense of humour and manages to understand my weird sense of humour, as well as my strange accent and english English! 

Having wandered further than we had intended, we suddenly realised that we would not make it back to the hotel by 10am, which is when we were due to depart for our boat trip and so we decided to hail a tuktuk. 

My morning nausea seemed to have travelled south and I felt a need to return to the hotel with some urgency The tuktuk driver said he knew where the Regis Hotel was and sped at an unnerving lick through the back streets. 

A tuktuk, for the uninitiated, is like a three wheeled motor scooter with a seat for two behind the driver ( at a push, three) across the back two wheels.    It has a roof and rather exotic curtains! Some of them even had Christmas fairy lights across the front!

If you've seen The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, you will know why I felt a little bit like Judy Dench, except for my tightly clenched buttocks!!

We arrived with 10 minutes to spare which cost 5 quetzales each, which equates to about fifty pence. With a sense of urgency I trotted off to the comfort of my bathroom. None too soon! 

Ooh er, should I stay or should I go? 

As I had no stomach cramps, I decided to carry on with the planned itinerary. We were scheduled to take a boat trip across the lake to a town on the other side called Santiago Atitlan. 

It was a lovely boat ride but I was disappointed in the clarity, or lack thereof, of the water. It is quite polluted, as they seem to be using it to discharge their effluent and something needs to be done before all the fish and other lake life is lost.

As we chugged into our mooring point, we could see the locals washing their clothes at the edge of the lake. It's hard to believe that people still do their laundry like this ,in this day of washing machines and tumble dryers. We forget to be grateful for our modern conveniences. 

This was a Mayan town, the majority of the population only speaking a Mayan language and no Spanish or English (of course). Because of this we had a Mayan interpreter join us for the time ashore. He was a bit of an entrepreneur and offered customised named biros. Well, you have to support local businesses, don't you? So I ordered one for Ayla and one for Jayden. He had orders for about a dozen or more and managed to do them as he walked around the town with us, using his teeth to bite off the threads. 

I can just hear my Mum saying. 'Don't use your teeth!' 

There was a Mayan lady who looked 70ish just by the dock and she showed us how she did her hair with an embroidered band. It was amazing as she wove it through her long dark hair (no greys, why?) and then wrapped it around her head, producing the Mayan ladies' headwear. 

All the time we were plagued by young girls and boys trying to sell us their beadwork, woven table runners and cushion covers. They do not take no thank you for an answer. 

'Maybe later? My name is Pedro, I look out for you, I give you good price' 

After about five minutes I probably had the name of every child within twenty miles, all of them looking out for me and giving me a good price, oh joy. 

As we turned a corner we were all told to climb aboard a pick-up truck, local style. So all 18 of us squeezed onto the open back of the truck, not before I had noticed that the tyres were completely smooth with no tread whatsoever. Now we're not talking Formula 1 slicks, we're talking downright bald as a badger's bum!

And off we went .... If you were religious, now would have been a good time to make contact with St Christopher, patron saint of travellers. We went up and down quite sharp inclines and then mercifully we stopped and all got out. That has to be the most uncomfortable way to ride that there is!

We were guided into an alleyway and realised that we were to become spectators to a Mayan ritual ceremony. Officially the Mayans are Catholic, in reality, they still follow their old deities, one of whom is Maximon, (pronounced Mosshymon) one of the most powerful. 

Maximon is usually represented by a male figure with a moustache and a penchant for cigars and Guatemalan rum. No wonder the Mayans prefer him as an object of worship!!  He also didn't seem to mind being asked for very material things such as money and possessions. The different colour candles used on the fire represent different things on the wish list.

There are 'brotherhoods' within the community and it is the duty of each brotherhood in town to be the guardians for an effigy of Maximon for a year, Easter to Easter, before passing him on to be cared for by the next brotherhood. 

Whilst on guard duty , they carry out ceremonies for devotees. Today it was a man and his wife from a long way away. The shaman had prepared a fire of candles, incense and of course, cigars. This man was throwing sesame seeds onto the fire and as they popped and crackled, like a well known breakfast cereal, he started his shopping list of requests. 

Let's see, there was a new Toyota truck, a house, money, lots of customers for his pizza shop and all his other businesses, perfect health for him and his family and anything else really that Maximon felt appropriate. Once the offerings on the fire burned down, he would be able to go into the house to see the effigy and maybe get some feedback from Maximon himself. 

Welll, he didn't want too much so I'm sure Mr M would oblige! 

As we came out of the alleyway we were besieged by Pedro and Co with all their beads, weavings and general tat. It would seem that No Thank You was not in their English lesson this week as they became more and more persistant. 

I was hoping to ride on the bus or a tuktuk back to the centre of town. But no, it was The Death On Wheels Express, once again.

After surviving the return trip and kissing the ground we carried on walking and ended up in one of my least favourite places, a Catholic Church. 

It was unusual. 

There were effigies of the saints down both sides, all of whom were dressed in what seemed to be, erm, nylon housecoats. A child, or a very short saint, was also sporting a rather rakish pith helmet. This apparel was given to the statues by various brotherhoods and came in a stunning pink or blue.

A plaque near the entrance to the church commemorated those who had been massacred, kidnapped and murdered in 1980 during the Civil War. The parish priest, Father Stanley who was an American, was assassinated in 1981 as he allowed people to take sanctuary in the church during the Civil War. 

The Civil War lasted 36 years. 

Outside we were once again attacked by Pedro and His Merry Men, this was getting a bit annoying now. 

Santiago Atitlán is the home of the Cojolya Weaving Center and Museum, founded by the Cojolya Association of Maya Women Weavers.

We continued our tour of the town, stopping off at the weaving shop. There were young girls, barely into their teens weaving hair braids and bracelets. The older women were using back looms, making scarves and table runners or a larger loom making broader blankets and tablecloths.

All their goods were up for sale and I think they sold quite a lot to us. The shops are so colourful and the prices are very reasonable, considering how long it takes to make them.

It was now time to stroll along the shops, making our way back to the boat, escorted by the ever present Pedro. Once on the boat we were boarded by him and his friends as they vied for our Quetzales and dollars. There was almost an audible sigh of relief from all of us as we pulled away from the jetty. 

We are due to leave Lake Atitlan tomorrow as we head for Antigua Guatemala, the second largest town in Guatemala and I think it was the former capital of the country. 

As the ziplining was done this morning instead of this afternoon, due to possible rain, we arrived back later on in the afternoon than was originally planned.

Sharon and I had bought a couple of bottles of wine on our first night, from the local shop, so we found ourselves one of the hotel's secluded little spots and had a glass of wine as the sun went down.

We had already decided to go down to the lake for our dinner. Night falls quickly in the Tropics, so it was pretty dark when we got down there. We found the Sunset Cafe, which had been recommended and sat down by the lake.

Small problem insofar as we had one tiny candle to read the menu by. The ever helpful waiter gave us another one, which really wasn't a lot better. He scurried off to get us our drinks and we decided that Sharon was having soup, I was having some chips/fries and then we were both going to be absolute pigs and have a huge chunk of chocolate cake.

The drinks came out quite quickly, hotly pursued by an embarrassingly large chunk of choccy cake each.

We must have looked a little nonplussed, even in the dim candlelight, as he set the plates down.  He looked at us questioningly?? Que???

Er, the soup and the chips love, where are they??

Oh so these strange people want their soup and chips first.... OK whatever, I'll fetch them then, and off he went.

We got a fit of the giggles at that point and were still grinning when the hot stuff arrived.

It was an odd meal but strangely satisfying.

Tomorrow we leave this pretty lake and travel to Antigua, said as An-tee-gwa not An-tee-ga which is the Caribbean island.

No tuktuk required this evening as my insides appear to be behaving themselves, until that is, they meet my huge chunk of chocolate cake!!

Night Night x