Naked in Monterrico

No, we didn´t travel to a beach in France and I did remember to pack my bathing suit. Yet the waves at the beach in Monterrico, at the southern coast of Guatemala, were the absolute biggest I have ever seen in my entire life. And yes, they declothe everyone that attempts to enter the water.

Last weekend we decided to travel out of town to spend a relaxing weekend at the beach. We took a 2.5 hour private shuttle from Antigua to the small beach town of Monterrico. After boarding the shuttle at 8 a.m., driving around Antigua for thirty minutes to pick up other passengers, switching shuttles completely to another driver and van, and getting gas, we were on our way. Guatemalan time is not quite the same as the rest of the world, it´s slightly...slower. Our ears popped as we dropped from 1500m in elevation to sea level. The countryside was littered with small pockets of communities, made visible to the searching eye by the black smoke floating up from the wood burning stoves. The relatively elegant houses of Antigua transitioned to those made of cinderblocks and sheets of metal. Closer to the beach, the corrogated metal roofs switched to roofs of straw and bundles of mongrove wood.

Once the shuttled pulled over in Monterrico, we had scarcely set our feet on the pavement before we were greated (or rather ambushed) by five different hotel owners louding selling their accomodations. The other five volunteers and I set off to select one of the many beachfront resorts, followed by all five men who were pleasantly surprised that we understood his Spanish. Against the guidance of four of the hotel promoters, we decided to stay in Hotel de Delfin, a very nice `resort` for $6 a night.

The sand was jet black, broken down from volcanic rock, and was hotter than Hades. No, seriously. There was no shade to be found and Steph and I quickly over heated and headed towards the water. The picture does no justice to the size of the waves and the undertow was ridiculous. It was literally impossible to run out of the water against the pull of the tide. When standing 7 feet into the ocean, I was seriously scared when looking at the approaching wall of water. If Steph and I delayed too long in running back to shore, and neglected to dive under the water in time, we were quickly taken for a torpedo ride all the way to shore, where we would then stand up with our bathing suit tops around one arm and our bottoms barely on.

And I was convinced I was in the water during high tide. I was wrong.

We ate dinner and watched the sunset for a while, and while falling asleep at the table I announced I was going to bed. That was until my friends informed me that it was 7:15 p.m. Realizing that it was wrong to go to bed so early when on a foreign beach that is known for it`s nightlife, I agreed to stay awake.

We all had our lights out by 8:30 p.m. Oops.

Yet, we woke up at 5 a.m. to go on a boat ride through the estuary to watch the sunrise. We boarded a gondola-like boat that our Guatemalan tour guide pushed through the calm water with a long mongrove pole. While I normally get sick to my stomach at the mere thought of waking up early, the ride was peaceful and the sunrise simply outstanding. We saw four-eyed fish (two eyes underwater and two above) that skim the surface like water snakes until they sporadically dart across the surface like a skipped river rock. I´ve never seen so many herons and cranes in one place and the bird calls echoed eerily in the still morning.

All in all, it was a good weekend of firsts: saw a shooting star before falling asleep on the beach, actually enjoyed a sunrise, and was indeed naked in Monterrico.