Cobán, the bitter chill

Even the good things can at times turn into less good if you get too much of them. Sometimes you need to get a break from things, even nice things like traveling, find a home base somewhere in the world and refocus on regular stuff regular people do at home like laundry or watch tv, or just do nothing, or write a blog post. All that sweet nothing (and more) I was planning to do in Cobán, a perfect town for that sort of nothingness right in the middle of nowhere AND  not only conveniently on route to Belize but also a good few hours East of Antigua thus (surely) also a good few degrees warmer. I booked a room on the rooftop with an attached deck and a desk where I would sit for the next three days (and nights?) and write.

It took 5 hours to get there, partly on a two-lane (one in each direction), partly on one-lane (ongoing construction) serpentine-like road zigzagging through rocky and very dusty highlands.

Cobán itself is (supposed to be) the most uninteresting place, which is interesting in itself, as you get to see a typical Guatemalan town with hardly any tourists to influence the environment. Whoever comes to Cobán doesn’t come to visit Cobán but to visit the neighboring Mayan villages. Cobán is just a starting point for other destinations. For all, but me. I came to Cobán for Cobán – to do nothing and to write. 

As soon as I entered my room, I knew things weren’t quite right. It wasn’t a nice cozy room, it wasn’t my office away from the office with a lovely deck. It was a… freezer. Raw, humid and bitter cold with the max temperature of  5 degrees Centigrade (41F). OMG. What have I done to deserve this? I abandoned hiking up the Aqua Volcano as well as visiting Lake Atitlan (supposedly the most beautiful lake in the world) for some warmth and I ended up here? A place much colder than the one I left it for? 

The instincts told me to run for my life even though I had already paid for three nights. But my stubbornness, on the other hand, was deviously whispering into my ear: You came here to write THAT post (I think) so DO IT. You cannot give up. You’ll manage. So I stayed, and ‘faced the music’. 

I asked to change the room for less drafty one inside the building and spend the next three days in bed trying to keep my body temperature at survivable level. Drank as much hot tea as I only managed during the 30 seconds I had before it became freezing cold. Put on whatever clothes I could and didn’t take them off during my entire stay, got under five blankets leaving only fingers out so that I could type while counting seconds to my departure. But even that didn’t help much. Sheets, pillows, blankets could not keep me warm(er) as they were icy cold and damp due to the bitter rawness and humidity in the room. The towel I never used was soaking wet. Not that I needed it as there was no way I could shower, there was no way I could take off one single bit of clothing. There was no escape. I was about to give up. Many times. 

Got none sympathy from my friends either. They checked AccuWeather online and teased me: “Five degrees? Not a biggy. It is colder where we are”. What they didn’t understand was that while it was cold outside in their countries it was nice and warm in their homes. I  didn’t have that comfort. The temperature inside my home was the same as the temperature outside. In fact, due to the chill factor, it felt much colder. Subtract the dampness and rawness that have been sitting deep in the walls ever since the house was built from 5 degrees and you may get an idea. For me, there was no escape from the bitter chill. Outdoors, indoors didn’t make any difference. The only people who understood the situation were my fellow travelers out of Cobán. They also spend their entire stay in bed trying to preserve whatever heat they could.

(And, btw, it never even crossed my mind Central America could be so freezing cold. My suitcase is full of bathing suits and summer dresses that I have yet to wear but lacks sweaters, jackets, hats, and gloves or anything else that protects from cold).

So, how was Cobán?

Hmm, I don’t really know. Freezing cold?

I don’t think I spend more than an hour sightseeing the town and took only 29 pictures. Still, the little bit I glimpsed at felt rather local and provincial. High narrow curbs, quite a bit of traffic, fruit/vegetable stalls everywhere. And of course, as anywhere else in Central America, The Central Park. This one was, however, somewhat different – there were few large tents right in the center selling books. I don’t want to sound judgemental but it is very unusual seen in small towns of Central Ameria.

Cold or warm, there is nothing to see/do here anyhow. The one thing of interest (?) was the locals’ obsession with shoe shining. Everyone,  in town: men. women, kids, cued to have their shoes shined. 

…and the best for last?

But the strangest thing of all was … surprise, surprise… fine dining. Yes, who’d know there is fine dining in Cobán – La Abadia. The city also has a few first-class restaurants (Kardamomuss, Casa D’Acuna). Unfortunately, I never made to any of them. I needed no fine dining in my despair, all I wanted was comfort food. So I dined at the best (and cleanest) Chinese restaurant in town – Restaurante Cantonés.

p.s. I don’t need to tell you but the happiest day for the longest time was the morning I left Cobán.

Cobán in Pictures?

Well, there are no pictures. What You See (above) Is What You Get. I took only 29, some of them are doubles, some of them are of shoe shiners. The rest of my shooting time I spend in bed trying not to freeze to death 😉