Guatemala.. definitely one of those trips that I will remember for a long time. I travelled by myself so I had a lot of time to think, eventhough I was working as usually (just with a crazy time difference of 8 hours) – so everything felt very busy and I was not sleeping much. I am writing this post much later after the trip and so many things happened in between.. so it’s just a small reflextion and not taken into much depth my words – still anyway felt that it’s good to post 🙂 This is part ONE. Second one will come later when I feel like writing it. 

ANTIGUA

First place I visited and stayed for 10 full days was the famouse colonial city Antigua. I stayed in Flore – so called boutique hostel. It was after a really long time my first hostel so when I was booking it, I didn’t really notice that i tis good to have a kitchen in the hostel which was lacking here. So someone like me who is really obsessed with warm beverages was suffering – and paying a lot for everything. There was a café but an expensive one. The place had a very nice terrace tho and I met there people who I would meet than later during my travels – such as Ani, the Dutch girl, Jasper etc.). It also was a place where I could just do my stuff and have comfy bed – beds there were super comfy and big and with a lot of private space. So for the start of the trip i really loved it there.

MACADAMIA FARM 

First time in chicken bus. I went with Igor since he wanted to buy a looot of macadamia but it turned out to be just a touristic kind of thing. But i loved to just spend the day with him, listen to his stuff and have macadamia pancakes. We haven’t seen each other since then.

ACATENANGO

A must-go, I think, for everyone who comes to Guatemala — at least, that’s what people say. This volcano is one of the most famous in the country, standing at about 3,976 meters (13,044 feet). It’s a hotspot for hikers and adventurers and an important source of income for many Guatemalan families who work as guides, porters, or sell food and supplies along the trail. It was also the busiest mountain I have ever been to — and the highest!

I just booked the cheapest tour and went for it. It was terribly organized: we only started climbing after noon and reached the summit around 6 p.m., just before sunset. It was a bit disappointing because I didn’t have time to climb the nearby Fuego volcano, but I decided to accept it. Later, I found out it was the last day before Fuego’s eruption, which lasted for two months — so I felt really lucky to have been there on that specific day! It was freezing cold; I wore every piece of clothing I had and even borrowed snowboard trousers from a friend in Miami.

For some reason, this tour — and the mix of people I met — will stay in my memories and heart:

• The Miami group from Russia — a poker player and his girls in leggings who hired young boys to carry their bags. He never took the same picture twice — everything was just one shot. I loved scrolling through his camera roll on his phone.
• Igor — wow, what a story. A bodybuilder who can never enter Europe again because he’s wanted for crimes and huge marijuana fields. We talked a lot and later went together to a macadamia nut farm.
• Dominik — we only talked during the hike and never met afterward, but it was such a sweet connection! He reminded me of myself — a wandering mind, quiet and adventurous. He was a flight attendant, and Guatemala was just a stop before his “real travel” to Peru and Chile. In the evening, we kind of escaped the group; people thought we were going somewhere for privacy, but really, we were just sitting quietly above the camp, chilling and enjoying the peace away from the big crowd. The next day, we climbed Acatenango together on our own, because I didn’t have the energy anymore to wait for the group every five minutes.

At the top of Acatenango, we arrived early, before sunrise. It was freezing cold. We sat by the campfire with some local Guatemalans — such a humble but beautiful moment. They kindly offered me a space by their fire, and I had a little chat with them. For the sunrise, we danced at the summit, sharing the moment with many Guatemalan families. It felt really special and connecting to be there with so many locals. I’m glad I did it on a Saturday. The way down was super crowded, and my muscles were very sore the next day.

My First Hike: Pacaya Volcano

My very first hike was an organized trip to Pacaya Volcano. Honestly, it wasn’t anything particularly wild or exhilarating — but it was the first time I truly saw those breathtaking views. The kind that make you pause. I remember feeling a deep sense of gratitude, like I was finally living a dream I had carried quietly for years.

And yet, as always, I couldn’t fully feel it. It’s strange — internally, I was happy, even moved. But it’s like my emotions are wrapped in cotton, dulled. I can’t quite access them. I don’t express things the way others do. There’s a kind of emotional numbness I carry with me — protective, maybe. Like a shield that kept me safe for too long and now doesn’t know how to come down.

On that hike, I met a mother and her son from the U.S. They told me they were in Guatemala for just a week, which felt so short — but then again, that’s all the time off they get back home. I also met some Israelis who, within minutes, started asking me what I think about Israel. I instantly felt how little I wanted to talk about that — how complex, overwhelming, and heavy it is.

Chichicastenango (busy market in the mountains)

The journey to this famous market was exhausting. I joined yet another semi-organized tour. The market itself was overwhelming — full of color, noise, people, movement. But all I remember, more than anything else, was how tired I felt the entire time. Deeply tired. Not just physically, but in that quiet, soul-heavy way that makes everything blur a little.

But something remarkable happened there, too.
For the first time, I witnessed real Maya rituals. People gathered around massive fires, offering prayers, honoring the flames and the spirit in everything around them. At the time, I didn’t know much about the Maya — I had barely scratched the surface.

Over the next few weeks, I found myself completely absorbed. I couldn’t stop reading, researching, feeling. It was as if something ancient had reached out and pulled me in. The magic of this people, their connection to nature and time — it took hold of me in a way I couldn’t explain. And I haven’t let go since (always love to wear my Nahual Ix necklace

 

One thing that i noticed and it asured me that I want to do it too was, that I want to experience some long travel without certain end and without needing to work on a daily basis. I remember the bus ride when I went from Antigua to Xela and was working so much on my laptop and felt literally depressed and exhausted from it and also couldn’t manage to do the task and was just filling myself with nuts and when the bus broke (for the second time), I ate some pupusas – but a Swiss version with chorizo and cheese and felt really horrible after that. Also, my accomodation was in danger because they told me that the won’t wait for me and I was freaking out.. and at that time, when it was not clear anymore, if we are gonna arrive on time, one girl from Israel started to vomit and we had to stop. I booked an Uber and cancelled again and arrived to the hotel completely stressed and with a big hate to myself – for the binge eating pattern when stressed (which came from the work while travelling) and also just frustrated that I am in Guatemala but don’t even have time to explore the area properly and do all the amazing hikes that are there to be discovered.

XELA

My time in Xela was a lot about just wandering alone and being by myself. I think I was a lot in my head there and felt sometimes bit confused about the local people – in terms of me being scared of them or me loving them for being so kind. Like I was not anymore shocked of the kindness of the people – poorer people tend to be in general much kinder than the richer in Europe & the US, but I was just not sure if when I am walking alone, if i tis actually dangerous or not. I think that during the whole trip i just didn’t come up with any answer.

Cerro Quemado

One of the sacred places for the Mayan people, this volcanic structure was a short trip I made on my own. I started around noon and hiked all the way up from Xela. I remember being so hungry again (as I was pretty much every day – probably from eating only beans and tortillas) and kept looking for food along the way. Not very successfully, though.

The path up followed a highway, but I chose not to take any alternative route because I was afraid someone might rob me if I ended up completely alone on some side trail.

As I was walking up the mountain, I passed by many families, and the weather started to turn windy — the whole energy of the place felt a bit heavy. But I think it was just the energy of the site itself. It was clearly a sacred space, and I couldn’t help but feel it.

At the top, people were talking to their gods. What shocked me a bit was the presence of an Israeli flag. Later, I learned about the involvement of Israeli forces not only in the genocide of Palestinians but also in the oppression of the Mayan indigenous people. That realization was pretty intense — it helped me connect some dots and put things into context.

On the way back, I was alone in a small village — no other foreigners, no other visitors — and I started to feel a bit uneasy. Locals gave me wrong directions, charged me double for simple things, and were generally unfriendly when I asked about buses or shuttles back to Xela. Fortunately, I found a kind man who gave me a ride for just 5 quetzales.

Laguna Chicabal

This trip was one of the most special ones for me — it was the only time I went somewhere overnight completely independently during my stay in Guatemala. Getting there was quite an adventure, and I was really glad I went with some locals. Without them, I probably wouldn’t have been able to camp there at all.

Camping itself came with its challenges. We forgot to bring matches, so we couldn’t make a fire and it got really cold at night. I lost my AirPods, and we didn’t have any sleeping mats — just some blankets that didn’t insulate much at all. It was uncomfortable and a bit stressful.

But in the end, it was all completely worth it.

Around 5 a.m., Maya people started arriving to perform their morning rituals by the lake. Watching them honor the sacred space, in silence and with such intention, was something I’ll never forget. There was a quiet magic in the air — and I felt honoured to witness it.

Before heading to Lago Atitlán, I took another shuttle (my last one during this trip), and — once again — it was late. More than an hour late. That made me a bit frustrated and I decided then and there that I wouldn’t travel with shuttles again.

The good part of that journey was that I rode part of the way alone with a very nice guy who even took me to a supermarket, which was great since I wasn’t sure what to expect in San Marcos and wanted to stock up on a few things.

Lago Atitlán

San Marcos

The whole experience of being at the lake was a journey in itself. When I arrived, I had no idea what was waiting for me — neither the place where I was staying (Casa Ahau), nor the people I would meet there. I also didn’t realize how isolated the house would be.

I remember that when I arrived in San Marcos, I was so exhausted I could barely climb up the hill to get to Casa Ahau. I’ll never forget how Moi opened the door and showed me around. It felt like a little paradise.

I ran into a French guy I had climbed a volcano with a few days earlier — he was just about to leave. At that moment, I didn’t know that Moi had just gone through his first kambo ceremony the day before, or that it was his first week working there alone. I didn’t yet know Eric’s story, or all the details of Casa Ahau that would slowly reveal themselves.

I had no idea how it would all unfold — how I would sleep under the stars, get very little rest and still manage to function, how I would dance in the kitchen and work long hours while completely forgetting that there was a world outside.

How I would spend every day near Mikey but never get his contact. How I would lose my bed and somehow get it back again. How Eric would get upset with me and say the flattest goodbye I’ve ever experienced — even though he had seemed to like me and once needed a hug from me.

I met an amazing couple — a Polish guy and a Portuguese woman — who were grounded, kind, and also just really cool, doing their creative projects. I admired their daily routines and it was clear they had been nomading for quite some time.

I also met with Jasper a few times – it felt really beautiful to connect with someone so much older than me and just observe how he expresses himself. We went out for Japanese lunch and later to a fancy hotel. He talked a lot about himself, his journey, his experiences with San Marcos, and so on. Later, he told me that I was present in his ayahuasca ceremony journey — that he was showing me all his treasures, the ones he had been keeping for “one day to show” someone.

In some way, Jasper seemed very lonely, as if he was carrying a deep pain or void inside himself. He never worked, didn’t have a partner or kids, but he had all the money he needed (which was a lot) and owned a wonderful flat in Copenhagen.

Somehow, though, we lost contact. Now I often think about writing to him, but it feels so difficult because I want to share so much, yet never really find the strength to do it. But I think it’s necessary if one wants to keep friendships alive. Maybe it’s especially hard for me because I’m constantly on the move? It’s just difficult to chat with people when I’m always somewhere else than they are — it feels lighter when I’m in one place, where there’s potential time and space to meet. But when that’s missing?

This is definitely one lesson I learned during my journey to Guatemala — to fully live in the moment where I am and to appreciate the people I meet to the fullest. Because often, there are no tomorrows. People just come, you share a nice evening, afternoon, dance, chat, smile, exchange… and then they leave. Back to their lives, partners, families, jobs, new friends, new experiences, journeys, countries. And that’s okay. The experience you shared stays forever between the two of you — unchanged, untouched, no one can take it away. And there doesn’t have to be any “next time” because everything was exactly as it should be.

Another thing that really stuck with me — something I went deep inside myself to understand — was when Moi shared that he started to love himself when he accepted his shadows. So simple and obvious, yet it always resonates with me.

The roof above, the stars, the warmth, yet the special volcanic air, and those long conversations in Spanish that I only partially understood — but I caught the important things that truly mattered.

Inside the volcano crater

I loved swimming in the nature reserve in San Marcos — the water felt so clean and fresh, and the light playing on the water was so beautiful. I remember sitting with Massimo, watching the light and the boat, while he told me about the death of his friend and his work as a cook. It reminded me again how everyone has so many different stories, and you never really know the story behind each person. I also thought about the beauty of traveling — how it connects you with people you’d normally never have the chance to meet.

On the last day, when Moi and I went swimming, the moment felt a bit distant — like I was quietly reflecting on how different his life is from mine. I would be leaving soon, while he would stay there, meeting new visitors and living a completely different life. It made me realize how many realities exist at the same time, how many different consciousnesses are thinking and experiencing their lives. I felt overwhelmed by these thoughts — about universal consciousness, all the creatures living around us that we can’t see, and the incredible richness of it all together.

Tzununa

This little village is often overlooked in travel guides about the lake, but it holds many hidden gems for those seeking spiritual experiences. It’s where the famous Ecstatic Dance at Gaia takes place, and also where there’s a shroom farm where a Czech girl I met at Casa Ahau was working.

It was also the gateway to some beautiful waterfalls that I was lucky to visit. Before we entered the forest, Moi would always pray to the land and ask the rocks and trees for permission. I remember that time at the waterfalls feeling like time had stopped. Maybe it was the weed we smoked, or the set we were listening to — but it felt both eternal and fleeting at once.

I also spent an evening with my friend Maisha and her partner — we sang, drank cacao, and sat in their private sauna. Even though Tzununa isn’t far from San Marcos, I always took a tuk-tuk back in the evening. People kept saying it wasn’t safe to walk, and honestly, I just didn’t feel comfortable walking alone at night in Guatemala.

But the tuk-tuk rides were great — another unexpected window into connecting more closely with people.

San Juan

I loved the village, which is just on the edge of the “party town” San Pedro. (I mean, finally, all these places are just villages, so none of them is really a crazy party place, but San Pedro tends to be full of party people, mostly from Israel and other places.) I stayed in a very cute hostel run by a family, and Ani came for a visit. We climbed the San Pedro volcano together.

I also shared a room with a young English girl who I found very cool. She had hiked so many trails, much more than I had, and was just very much into herself. She carried some special workout tool (to practice her grip) with her, and it felt so dedicated — that she was carrying a piece of wood through Central America just to not lose her progress. I feel like I’m never really dedicated to anything that much.

On the San Pedro volcano hike, we had company — a very little skinny dog. I don’t remember how we called her, but she walked all the way up with us. She was very brave.

Also, one evening when I was once more really drained, I met a girl I had met before at Casa Ahau. I told her I had a headache and would like to have some wine. She didn’t get it and asked why I would want wine for a headache, and then I understood that once again I fell a bit into the pattern of evening drinking — or just having wine for fun. Finally, we ended up having masala chai and just talking. She told me she had been traveling for a while and spent some months at a yoga and breathwork retreat in Mexico. I thought again, why am I never just letting go? Why don’t I just go somewhere for some time to “live” and “be”? As simple as that. I think I still need a bit more time and a real push.

I remember one day I went for a run in the morning. It was so warm, and also, since in Guatemala you never know about security, I was inside and out so scared. I kept thinking that every little man with a huge machete in his hand might potentially want to kill me. Luckily, it didn’t happen. I also remember that I gained a bit of power to answer people’s messages — namely Maria and Manuel — and it felt good to have this mental space for it.

I left Atitlán with a bit of relief. It was a lot, a good place to stop for a while, but I felt ready for something else. I was so excited to visit Tikal and the area there. I read a lot about the Mayans, connected to their culture, and was ready to see my first pyramids alive in my life.

 

On the way from Atitlán to Guatemala City

I took a chicken bus (collectivo) straight from San Juan to Guatemala City. The ride itself was long, loud, and exhausting — it must have taken at least seven hours. By the time we reached the capital, it was already dark, and I started to feel genuinely scared. The bus was packed, and I kept hearing how this exact situation — arriving in Guatemala City just after sunset — is the perfect setup for getting robbed.

Luckily, nothing happened on the bus, but they dropped me off right in the middle of a really sketchy area. Suddenly, I was completely alone. The only place that had any light was some kind of delivery service, and when I walked up, they literally closed the gate in front of me. Someone inside just told me very clearly: “This is a very dangerous area. You should leave as soon as possible.” They didn’t say how.

It became very clear that no one in that area was going to help me — and that I could be robbed in a second and no one would even notice. Somehow, I made it through. I managed to call an Uber, which ended up being pretty expensive, but at least it got me out of there.

Later, as I walked through the capital, everything felt dark and harsh — such a contrast to the peaceful vibe of Lake Atitlán. I think that was the moment I decided I wouldn’t be coming back to Guatemala City. For my last few days in the country, I’d return to Antigua instead — a place that felt much safer and more grounded.