Coffee, disembarkation, bus. Five minutes later the faint outline of a volcano appears through the dust in the air.

An hour after leaving the port we’re still driving towards it. There are several volcanoes visible, out of 38 in Guatemala, four of which are active.

This is one of them. Last year it destroyed a small town (3rd June, apparently). We drove through it.

20 minutes later, it erupted. Sadly I saw a plume of ash from the corner of the bus window then we turned, headed away from it. By the time we could get off the bus there were buildings in the way, blocking the view. Walking to find clear sight I found the clouds had formed below the peak, hiding any prettiness for the rest of the day.

Don’t care. Volcano. Eruption. Awesomeness 🙂

The bus was meant to be a 90 minute drive to the town of Antigua (‘tigg-wua’ not ‘tee-gah’) but volcano related bridgeworks closed the road for 15 minutes. No stops so no chance for proper volcano photographs. Once there a lady told us to sit down for five minutes, so I asked her why. Her response to ask which part of the UK I’m from; she’s from Bradford in Yorkshire. She was only going to give a guide to getting around the town so I assured her I could get happily lost with no help and headed out.

The town is 16th century Spanish colonial, a Unesco world heritage site. It’s about the same size as Melton Mowbray, nowhere near as old and lack pork pies so I think Unesco need to get their act together.

On the plus side the centre of Antigua hasn’t really changed in the last three centuries, just got older. The cobbled streets and narrow pavements have no greenery but every house is built around an internal courtyard, every doorway hinting at greenery, flowers and fountains. I walk around, but the shops are mainly tourist centric (and tourist prices) and it takes just an hour to see most of the town.

The guide on the bus to town had told us that the bars on the windows were a relic from the colonial era, decoration not protection. He hadn’t mentioned that there’d be armed police on every corner, in every bank, more security guards at various shops. Not just the police were armed, the photocopy centre had its own guard stood outside.

Half the people walking around Antigua were tourists but everybody in a restaurant or cafe was. I walked until I found a dingy opening, two women in the doorway making tacos on an open fire. In behind I could see table, none of the refinement of a tourist restaurant, just locals filling their faces.

I went in, sat near the cook.

A man with a Scottish accent came in, asked if I had a pen he could borrow. He paid me back by helping translate the waitress as she told me that they don’t have coffee. I wish I’d known, we drove past a few coffee plantations on the way in.

I ordered random chicken. It came with potatoes.

It was.. ok.

Connection to my photo site has died. I’ll post this, head back to the bus.