Antigua

Antigua is a world away from Guatemala City, although only a short distance from the capital.

Its unassuming pretty pastel coloured buildings hide gracious dwellings and tranquil, flower-filled courtyards.

My little posada is a gem, and my room, which opens out into a pretty courtyard is comfortable and peaceful. 

I spend a few hours exploring the cobblestone streets around the parque central and have dinner in a cosy taverna, with good food and good wine.

Antigua is a tourist town and it is not hard to see why. It is full of art galleries and jade shops, small boutiques and cafes and on every street a Spanish school, offering voluntary work opportunities, excursions and salsa dancing. In spite of the tourists and modern day feel, it retains its character and charm and is a place I could easily spend time in and around.

I am looking for an opportunity to practice my dancing and have been told about a place called Sala, which has a live salsa band, so after checking with the staff at the posada that it is safe to walk around on my own at night in the area I am going (there have been some attacks on tourists in Guatemala and Antigua lately) I head out for dinner and hopefully a dance.

I find a cosy taverna with good food and wine and then at about 10 I head off to Sala.

Although I don’t find it easy going into a bar or club at night on my own (am I wrong in thinking it is easier for men?) I order a drink and imagine I am just waiting for a friend. Perhaps it is my second drink, perhaps this time I am more determined –on a couple of other occasions in Hong Kong and England I have left after one drink-perhaps it is the sound of the music that starts and fills me up, but this time I stay. Soon the dance floor is filled and everyone is moving in time to the music. I find myself moving too, Elizabetta’s voice echoing in my brain, my hips, shoulders and “torax” remembering. A guy asks me to dance and without thinking, I do, the energy of the crowd and the music envelops me and it is fun. The guy tries to talk to me, but I can’t hear him above the music, so I just smile and keep dancing. After a couple of songs I have had enough, so I thank him and leave. I am still dancing as I walk out the door.

Hasta luego

Mon x