martes, 29 de junio de 2010

Tajamulco

I was lucky enough to have the opportunity of a 2nd shot at climbing Tajamulco, having passed up the trip the previous weekend. However, the rain returned and in the hope it wasn't another tropical storm, I set off with an American couple and our guide, Saul who had walked with me to the top of Santa Maria.

Unfortunately when we arrived at the start of the walk, this was the sight that greeted us; drifting fog and cloud, and a tropical storm was esconced over the Yucatan trailing this clag for hundreds of miles. Anyway, we were now committed and we just prayed that there would be a break in the weather for us. It had been 2 chicken bus rides and a 3 hour trip time to get this far and the lack of visibility was made up for the by the electric performance of a patent medicine vendor. In the more affluent world, we are continually bombarded by advertising on television and on billboards, but here the advertising is done in person, whether by people proclaiming their wares from the marketstalls or to captive audiences on the bus. The strategy is to terrify the audience and then offer salvation in a bottle. This particular gentleman started his patter by extolling the virtues of the oesophagus, and pointing to members of the hapless audience, quiz those of us who hadn't managed to evade his beady eye on various dubious healthcare points. "What is the oesophagus for? "
"It connects the mouth to the ....?"" Stomach! Very bright, belleza!!"
" What happens if you don't care for the oesophagus, sores on the mouth and....?" ( at this point a laminate folder of terrible mouth and throat sores is produced and the various ailments are described in suitably reverent and hushed tones..."Ulcers!! Belleza muy listo es!!"
" And if you don't treat these ulcers what happens?" " You don't know?!!!!" " What!!?" "You get cancer, that's what!!!!"
" But if you take a teaspoonful of these salts in half a glass of water every morning with your breakfast your oesophagal tract will be cleaned and you won't get ulcers and you won't get cancer, and if you have it already, this will clear it up."

Bottles of this stuff are then handed out to everybody to inspect and hold this magic medicine in their own hands.
"Normally this costs 100 Quetzales, but for you and today only as an introduction I'm prepared to accept not 50, not 20 but 10 Quetzales, and look it's made in Guatemala City where all the big businesses are, so that shows that the manufacturers are serious!"
On inspection, there was not a single ingredient listed on the label, but a Guatemala city address, a fancy name and the directions for use which I've already described. But the charisma and the attire (Cowboy hat and boots and a cellphone brandished like a six shooter of yore) and the swagger of this man were totally engaging and watchable. When the show was over, he collected money from those who believed and the bottles back from those that didn't, waited for his spot and got off, waiting to board some bus to terrify another hapless group on the return journey.

The depressing weather that greeted us at the foot of Tajamulco

An indignant turkey marking his territory at the last line of dwellings

A nascent magic mushroom on the day of the start

The next day.... my how you've grown!

Mike and Elana during a rest stop.

The weather deteriorated as we started our ascent and Mike and Elana were struggling with altitude sickness, so the race was on to pitch our base camp before the storm hit, as we needed to make frequent stops for them to recover. (Mind you, I didn't complain) Thunderclaps were getting more frequent and ever closer. Saul our guide was patient and brilliant. When we got to our camp, the edge of the tree line at 4000mt he immediately strung a line between 2 pine trees, over which he threw a giant plastic tarpaulin which we secured to make a sloping roof. Being the tallest in the group it fell to me to secure the lines, and as the rain started to pelt down, Elana was brilliant at helping to pitch and organise the tents as she was a veteran of many a camping trip with her Dad when she was younger. (Apparently he had his kids pitch tents against the clock) Meanwhile I was given the machete to dig a ditch around our roof, so that the draining water didn't enter the tents. Totally the wrong tool, but I was proud of my effort at altiude, striking sparks against buried stones, cutting through roots; I'm just gutted that I didn't think of taking a photo of it, quite a feat of civil engineering in adverse conditions. If you want to read Mike and Elana's version of the adventure, you can read it on their blog here: http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog/mikeandelana/1/tpod.html
Both of them were suffering from headaches and nausea by the end of it, so it was left to just Saul and me to admire the view of the afterglow of the sunset. The west was completely overcast, but the view to the east was magical, with the illuminated clouds contrasting with the volcanoes of Xela.

A stroke of good luck, the cloud cleared to the east at sunset giving this superb view of Santiaguito erupting (yet again!) at the foot of Santa Maria

Saul the guide with the peak of Tajamulco in the background, It was absolutely freezing cold by this time, and I was wearing 2 t-shirts a sweatshirt, a fleece and an overcoat!

Dawn breaking at the summit 4220mt, the following morning at about 0500, the tripod frame to the left of the photo was the remnants of a radio relay antenna used by the guerillas during the civil war which ended only in 1996 which cost some 200 000 lives in 34 years.

Daybreak.

The peak of Tacana in the mystical morning light

Tacana still wearing her veil as we start the descent.

A clear window showing the volcanoes of Antigua on the left of the horizon Agua, then the double peaked Acatenangoand then Fuego, on the right the volcano of Xela, Santa Maria, the cone.

The cloud beginning to spill pver the ridge on the way down.

Looking back at the summit.

The locals take horses up the mountain to log firewood, with the tragic result that without the tree roots to bind the soil to the mountainside, it gets washed away causing the erosion of these deep gullies in the side of the mountain.

Saul at the head of a gully

The unusual luxury of having a seat all to myself in a chicken bus, Normally we were crammed 3 to each seat, sometimes more.

A flock of chicken buses

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