Fire in My Hands by Lesley Ann Eden

Author:Lesley Ann Eden
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Publish on Demand Global LLC

13

Flores: Bending Time

The drive back to the pensione was just as uncomfortable as the ride to Santiago Zamora, but it didn’t seem to take so long. I kept my sadness at leaving Romana in my heart and smiled at the little man driving, making polite conversation, until we clanked and hobbled back to our guesthouse. The Chinese girls drifted away into the evening as Maria and I returned to our room. There, we packed our gear in readiness for the early-morning start to catch a small army aircraft to Flores, a tiny island by Lake Peten Itza.

Before our last evening meal in Antigua, Terrino called a meeting in the library to discuss the plans for the next day. We all needed to pay him for the flight. As I handed over my money, I glanced briefly at Gordon and smiled a secret thanks. There was paperwork to organise and permits for travelling, permits for crossing over borders, and permits to leave the country. It took a while for everyone to produce passports, health documents, and special grants to visit countries from various embassies, before Terrino could inform us about the next part of the journey. We would have to leave the pensione at three in the morning.

Punctuality was vital. The army aircraft would not wait for any late arrivals. We were travelling north, past Rio Dulce and Poptun to Flores, an idyllic tiny island set next to a tropical lake. Formerly, Flores was the city of Tayasal, founded by the Spanish in 1700. It had been an island until recent years, when a causeway was built to connect it to the mainland; until then it had grown most of its own crops and sold chicle farmed from trees to be used in the manufacture of gum.

Terrino explained that many of the local people on the island still used their own unique style of canoe, a cayuco, which is a small, dug-out boat hewn from one long piece of wood. He said that the island was very small and that one could walk around its front street and back street within a short time. The streets were ancient cobbles with uneven surfaces, so we would have to be careful. The houses, unique to the area with brightly painted facades and thatched roofs, added to the charm of the island. We were to spend two nights there, so we would have ample time to explore the place, buy local handicrafts, enjoy the hotel set by the lake edge, and even swim in the lake, or go fishing, canoeing, bird watching, or visit the tiny nature reserve or the small zoo.

The Complainers were friendly and relaxed after spending a day by themselves sightseeing and were looking forward to the next stage of the journey. Everyone decided to eat together, and I suggested an extraordinary bijou place I had found that was owned by a gay French artist. The café/restaurant was furnished like a sitting room but with everything outside, in a luscious jungle

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